The Demon King Davian

“Why don’t you stay with Michael?” Toran suggested.

“No, I can’t risk it.”

Not just in the event the renegade demon returned and sought her out at Michael’s house, putting him in danger, but also because of her past romance with him—and that he’d nearly kissed her. If he truly wanted a reunion, she had to head that off at the pass, not give Michael any sort of encouragement now that she knew who commanded her passion and owned the most intimate part of her.

She and Michael could never be more than friends. Of course, what had transpired between Jade and the Demon King could also go no further. Even though she’d instantly felt a void straight to her core when she’d left his castle. And lonesomeness had immediately returned to her when she’d entered the cottage. But there was no denying she did not belong on the other side of the village border. She belonged in Ryleigh. And the two worlds that lay on opposite sides of t

he river should never collide again.

“I’ll stick close by,” Toran offered, breaking into her dismal thoughts.

She said, “Not in this weather. It’s treacherous. I’ll be fine. I’ll stay inside. Try not to worry about me, I won’t go anywhere,” she vowed. There was no need to return to the tavern at present. She doubted even the diehards would venture out in this wicked snowfall. “But do me a favor, please. Let Michael and Lisette know I’m okay and that you saw me safely home.”

“They’re not the only ones worried about you,” Walker told her. “The entire community has been on edge since the general reported you’d been taken to the castle.”

“For the record, the king’s staff took excellent care of me.”

“Still,” Toran said as he unfastened the low-slung belt holding his sword to his hips before handing it over. “Keep this. I know you’re trained to use it.”

She eyed the weapon. She hadn’t had one of this caliber in the house for fifteen years. Her father had taken both his and her sword with him when he and her mother had traveled to another village for a funeral on the day they’d died. Jade had been ordered to stay with Michael’s family, but she’d snuck away and had followed her parents. And had witnessed their gruesome murders.

She shuddered and pushed the memory to the shadowy corners of her mind, with all the other unpleasant recollections.

“Thank you,” she said to Toran. “Both of you. It’s true, this is a precarious time. I’m hoping it has come to an end as far as the fire wraith is concerned.”

“We’ll remain vigilant,” Walker assured her. “And the general and a small squad will patrol their perimeter.”

She knew the slayers had had to come for her when she’d been at the castle, to confirm for themselves she was all right and to appease the villagers. But she suspected they wouldn’t have demanded to bring her back if they thought the situation was still a dicey one.

“It wouldn’t make sense for the fire wraith to come after me again,” she said, “if the king is no longer watching me. He and his bandits will have to devise some other plan to bait Dav—” Her gaze dropped. “The Demon King. Or find a way to breach the castle walls.”

“Not at all a viable scenario while the king’s still alive,” Toran said.

That reversal of fate being one she couldn’t even begin to ponder now that she’d been the recipient of the king’s generosity—and sinful lovemaking.

With the blaze Walker built warming the small house, she repeated, “I’m all right here. But you both need to be cautious in this blizzard.”

Toran chuckled. “A little snow never hurt us.”

Her gaze lifted. “I know you’re modern-day superheroes. But it’s freezing out there, Toran. And the visibility is horrendous.”

“We’re not amateurs,” Walker said. He headed toward the door. “Just stay safe, Jade.”

Yes, her reputation preceded her. Her stubborn and independent streaks, to be exact. But on the heels of the horrifying encounter with the menacing fire wraith, she knew better than to do anything that might put her in jeopardy. Plus…she’d sworn an oath to Davian.

After the slayers left, she started another blaze in the bedroom hearth to ease the biting chill from that portion of the cottage. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do with herself until the storm broke, but sleep wasn’t possible—her mind raced with too many thoughts. As night fell, her gaze remained on the windows lining the back wall.

The image of the fire wraith was burned into her brain, and the fear it would return was not as easily dismissed as she’d implied with the slayers—or as she’d tried to convince herself. Losing her house was still a tormenting notion. And being alone at the cottage during a whiteout only added to her sense of isolation…and her loneliness.

Although she knew the slayers would keep an eye on her, and Morgan and his troops would be in the vicinity, she suffered a much deeper feeling of seclusion and separation following the degree of companionship she’d experienced within the castle walls. Morgan’s concern for her wellbeing. Sheena’s acceptance of her human state…and the vampire’s friendly gestures. Even Jocelyn had cleaned up after Jade with nary a blink of an eye.

And then there was Davian.

She tried her best not to think of their time together. What would be the point? It had been a bizarre twist of fate, but one without any potential for transcendence beyond those few days.

So Jade passed the time scrubbing the charred marks from the stone fireplace, mending clothes and tidying up the cottage. The snowfall slowed and the dense clouds eventually dissipated. Three days later, she was ready to get out and about when Toran made his scheduled visit.

“Any news?” she asked as she used a tree stump to help her climb onto the back of his horse.