Kiss of a Demon King (Immortals After Dark 7)

She gazed back over his arm, shuddering. Where was her sister? Sabine had to get back to her, had to escape Rydstrom.

When the gale ended, she attempted once more to tell him about Lanthe. But it was like talking to a wall. He wouldn't listen, not even when they returned to the

house, not even when he stripped her. Not even when he stalked outside and found chains to trap her body to his bed.

One way to deal with a woman like her.

Rydstrom heard little of what she was saying. He didn't need to hear any more of her lies. Just need to mark her.

She lay on the bed with her damp red hair in a fall all around her head, her pale body spread and trembling. He shoved his pants off, then climbed over her.

Her eyes went wide. "You've got to let me go!" she cried. "I have to get back."

Do nothing irrevocable. . . . But he had to, because she wouldn't stay anyway. Mark her.

He knelt between her legs. "I was going to take you slow." When he lay over her, he clasped the sides of her face. His c**k pulsed against her hot sex.

Get control. She makes me crazed! Got me so twisted inside. . . .

"Don't do this to me, demon!" She gazed up at him with beseeching eyes.

"You told me you would stay. I believed you."

"Rydstrom, I have to help Lanthe, my sister. If I don't get back, they'll kill her. Trust me to return to you, and I will."

"Did you think it would have ended between us when you went back to Omort? I'd come for you." As he ground his shaft against her, he said at her ear, "Cwena, if we are apart, it's only because I'm not done fighting my way to you."

"If we do this, will you let me go?" she asked desper­ately. "Then take me, claim me, do whatever you have to, but just release me."

"You must bear my bite."

"Then, yes! Do it!"

"You know what you have to say, sorceress."

"You want me to beg, demon? I will! I beg y-"

"No!" He shoved his hand over her mouth. He didn't want this. Didn't want her to break. When she grew quiet, he removed it.

"Th-that's what you wanted, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes . . .no!" He eased off her, sitting on the edge of the bed, pinching his forehead. Just think.

"Then what?" she cried, writhing in her chains.

He rose, pacing. Think . . .

"What do you want me to do, demon? What do you want?"

"I don't know'." he bellowed, putting his fist through the wall. "I want you to feel something. For me." And then he was above her again, clutching her nape. "Because you're clawing my bloody heart from my chest!"

"I do feel something for you, demon. Take me, mark me as your own. Forever. "

Words from a dream. He couldn't decipher the sub­texts, couldn't foresee what trickery this was. Her silken tongue was telling him exactly what he wanted to hear, the sorceress soothing the beast inside him.

"But then you have to let me go. I will return to you!"

Can't think . . . nothing irrevocable ... He rose once more, then staggered to the bathroom. Inside, he rested his forehead and palms against the wall, digging in his claws as he grappled for control-

He heard the unmistakable sound of Cadeon's old truck in the drive. With a curse, Rydstrom slung on some jeans, then went to head him off before his brother could use a key.

When Rydstrom cracked open the side door, his mind was seized on Sabine, but he vaguely noted Cadeon appeared ... tired.

"Rydstrom?" Cadeon bit out incredulously.

He could only imagine what he looked like. He wore no shirt or shoes and had been buttoning up his jeans. Cadeon's gaze flickered over his clenched jaw, his shoulders bunched with tension, and the thin lines of blood running down his chest and across his cheek.

"Are you going to make me stand out here? Open the door."

Rydstrom glanced back into the house. That dream. She'd been about to take it away from him. He could hate her for that.

"You're worrying me, man. Let me in, and tell me what happened. The last I heard was that you'd been captured by Sabine."

When Rydstrom didn't answer, Cadeon said, "You were taken to Tornin, weren't you? Did you fight Omort to escape?"

Rydstrom finally shook his head.

"Then how the hell did you get free? No one escapes Tornin."

"I had an ace in my pocket," he said, his voice rough. What will I have to do to make her want to stay?

"You don't sound good. Are you all right?"

"I will be." Rydstrom looked back over his shoulder again. "Soon."

"I got the sword." Cadeon offered it to him. "Killed Groot, too."

Rydstrom accepted the weapon, barely sparing it a glance. She'd been running from me. After making me believe she wanted to be with me.

Cadeon was baffled, saying slowly, "That's the sword that will defeat Omort"

"We go to war in the spring. Be ready."

"That's all you've got to say? So much for abject gratitude, or even a pat on the back." Cadeon's tone grew louder with each word. "If you knew what I went through to get to that goddamned thing, what I put my female through . . . Oh, and for the record, your Vey-ron's missing, and it's never f**king coming home-"

"/s someone out there?" Sabine cried. "Oh, gods, help me!" She rattled the chains. "I'm being held against my

will!"

"Is that Sabine?" Cadeon bit out. "Was she your ace?"

"Please help me!"

Rydstrom peered at him hard, daring Cadeon to do something.

Clearly striving for a casual tone, Cadeon said, "So, you've got an evil sorceress chained up in your bed, then?"

Rydstrom knew what his brother believed. "She's mine," he seethed. "I'll do whatever the f**k I want to her. And it's nothing that wasn't done to me," he snapped, recalling the humiliation she'd subjected him to. The memories burned worse, because he'd intended to be so good to her, had planned to completely forgive her for her treatment of him. His fists clenched.

"Hey, hey, no need to slug me, brother. To each his own, yeah?" But he was studying Rydstrom.

"Once I'm done with her, I'll contact you."

As he closed the door, he barely heard Cadeon mutter, "Fuckall, does this mean I'm no longer the bad brother . . . ?"

Before Rydstrom locked the sword in the armory, he took it to the bedroom to show Sabine his prize. "This is the sword that will kill Omort."

It glinted in the light, and her eyes followed its every movement as he checked the weapon's balance, swing­ing it in a circle by his side.