The Demon King Davian

Unadulterated lust flooded her veins. Jade gaped. Davian swore under his breath. He did an about-face and stalked over to Lisette’s desk.

Sinfully delicious flames flickered along Jade’s clit, and there was nothing she could do to stop the wave of heat rolling over her skin. She’d told him that very thing in her dream—that she needed him. He’d responded fervidly, having made his own confession.

I’ve wanted you for so long.

That unexpected and prevailing statement would never leave her mind. But what did he want from her, really?

The firestorm he ignited from just his words and smoldering gazes—the man hadn’t even touched her, for God’s sake!—made Jade shed his cloak and hang it over the back of a chair before she spontaneously combusted.

Meanwhile, the knuckles of Davian’s fist rapped the top of the desk in angst or frustration or both.

She ventured, “What do you mean when you say you need me? For what…purpose?”

Turning back to her, he speared her with an electrifying look that caused her to go weak in the knees. Like she needed more physical responses evoked by him. “What I meant to say,” he told her, “is that I need to know more about who you are and what powers you possess.”

“Powers?”

“Don’t play coy with me. You’ve already proven it’s not in your nature.”

Jade sighed. Without doubt, she wouldn’t win a battle of wills with this man. Demon. Man. Whatever.

Yet she explained, “I don’t have powers. I have abilities that aren’t exactly the norm, but nothing mystical or magical. Well, not totally…” Another wisp of air blew through her parted lips. This was about to get even more complicated than the sexy fantasy she’d participated in. And perhaps as hazardous to her health as Jinx’s precarious experiment.

Awaiting her reply, Davian slung a thick, black leather-clad thigh over the corner of the desk, halfway sitting on the edge of the sturdy piece of furniture. He folded his arms over his massive chest and said, “Do tell.”

Jade anxiously paced before him, suddenly feeling as though she were on trial for her life. In the meeting hall, she’d been fueled by her personal qualms and aggravations, but also by Jinx’s death. Maybe she had gone too far with the Demon King, but she wouldn’t stand idly by as the villagers were picked off one by one.

Which made her wonder, if she told him of her gifts, would he do as she’d feared earlier—toss her in a cell and throw away the key because she was an anomaly he felt might be a threat to him and his kingdom?

“Jade.”

He said her name with such familiarity and intimacy, it brought her to an abrupt halt.

She knew she walked a fine line, but had to ask, “Were you outside my house last night?”

Now his jaw worked rigorously. His casual disposition, which she realized had been his way of trying to put her at ease, turned unyielding.

Jade gazed brazenly at him. “Do you possess special powers?”

He didn’t say anything for a long spell, which increased her apprehension. Now she was stepping all over protocol. Stomping on it, actually. But she needed a bottom line here. Couldn’t live another day without it, so what the hell?

She threw caution to the wind and closed the gap between her and the king. “Please,” she said in as much of a non-assuming voice as she could muster. “I’m not being impertinent. I saw hoof prints on the opposite bank of the river where my cottage sits. I heard a horse when I came out of the tavern. I know something…or someone…follows me. Is it you?”

Davian slipped from his perch on the desk and stood, towering over her. Making her breath catch; eventually, she had the good sense to recognize it ought to be panic skating down her spine—not arousal.

Somehow maintaining her composure, she dared to say, “By your own command, I have the right to know if and why I’m being tracked.”

He glared at her, but she didn’t wither under duress.

A stare-down ensued. Until a disconcerting thought slammed into Jade. She gasped. “Oh, my God! Can you read minds?”

“On occasion,” he told her, unapologetic.

She gaped. That was the last thing she needed to hear.

Holy. Hell.

“What sort of occasions?”