Immortals After Dark 07 - Kiss of a Demon King

aspiring to nothing. I care about nothing very much . . . Now was the time to act, yet she couldn't. "I never thought he would resist me."
    She shivered to recall the way his green eyes flickered black when he'd looked at her with utter lust. And still he'd denied her. He'd resisted not only the call of a female to a male but the call of his mate.
    "What if I'm not his? What if the prophecy was wrong?" Oracles didn't usually make mistakes, but those
    interpreting their words did. "I don't get it. I'm sexually attractive to a remarkable degree-"
    "And humble."
    "It's not bragging if it's true. And I'm his -which means, this is in the bag. Or should be."
    Though most of his kind searched their entire lives for their other half, Rydstrom hadn't. Once he'd lost Tornin, he'd been obsessed in his quest to reclaim his crown.
    Now that the worst of her pique had passed, she reflected on all she'd learned. To please him as he truly needed, she would have to surrender the reins-or appear to.
    Sabine was so strong on the outside, always having to be on her game, never revealing any vulnerability. There'd been times that she'd actually wondered what it would be like to lie back and just surrender to a man.
    If she trusted him. I/he was worthy. The demon would never seek to steal my powers ....
    "I knew he was complicated." But she'd never guessed to what degree. "The levelheaded, upstanding king has a wicked side." And one he'd obviously long denied.
    Lanthe's eyes went wide. "Do tell!"
    "He craves total control, but he doesn't want me to give it to him. He wants to win it."
    "That sounds kind of exciting."
    It was. Gods, that demon's masculine heat was addictive ...
    "When you were with him, did you feel more drawn to him? " When Sabine frowned, Lanthe said, "Just tell me-if this was another place and time, and you were just two ordinary beings, would you see him again?"
    He wants to kiss my neck and tell me that I'm beautiful. .. . "Our kind considers demons hardly better than animals."
    "That's not what I asked."
    "I... maybe," she muttered.
    Lanthe's face brightened. "Oh, Sabine! This is wonderful. You could fall in love-"
    "Always with your talk of love! Do you know what I love? Life. And romantic love is a distraction that makes staying alive more difficult. Besides, we're not in another time or place."
    And still Sabine glanced over her shoulder toward the dungeon and felt a tinge of...
    something.
    When she turned back, she found Lanthe preoccupied, gazing up at the sky.
    "A karat for your thoughts," she said. "It's Thronos, isn't it?"
    "What?" Lanthe cried.
    "You're worried he will find a way to this plane. But, Lanthe, he can't. And even if he could, we're not the same scared girls we used to be. We'd hang him by his own entrails."
    "Yes, by his entrails," Lanthe repeated in a weird tone.
    "How about we go watch some of your DVDs?"
    Lanthe had quite the collection of films. Every month, she opened a portal from her room directly to a Best Buy, and then they ordered their Inferi to make like an ant line to the movie section. "We'll watch a horror movie and drink wine every time a blonde trips on her own feet."
    "Sounds good," she said without enthusiasm.
    "It'll he great. We'll get merry and raise hell."
    Suddenly Sabine felt the tiny hairs on her nape rise. Great, Lanthe had gotten her spooked.
    She glanced up, but found no Vrekener.
    Instead, she spied Lothaire atop the rampart, his trench blowing in the sea breeze, his thick white-blond hair stirring. The general of the Fallen Vampires within the Pravus army was watching them.
    Lothaire was one of the most complicated males Sabine had ever encountered. His eyes were pink-not clear of blood, but not red with it either. He was considered fallen, and yet he prevented himself from making those last few kills that would send him over the brink.
    Whenever Sabine made herself invisible and moved about the castle, she would catch Lothaire spying on others, an analytical, cunning look on his face.
    His interest in her and Lanthe boded ill.
    Without breaking his watchful gaze, Lothaire disap-peared.
    Thoughts growing darker. . . .
    Rydstrom twisted in the chains, chafing against the heavy metal collar around his neck.
    Darker with each
    hour.
    At the end of this night, he'd still resisted the sorceress, even with his fantasies projected in a vision. But the pain was becoming too much to withstand. His cock throbbed to be inside her, aching so much that Rydstrom was unable to