Immortals After Dark 07 - Kiss of a Demon King

capitulate everything. Yes, it was the best one he'd ever received, but still...
    He shook his head. It wasn't just what she'd done to him, but how. She'd been everything he'd ever dreamed of. And when the room had gone ablaze, letting him see the intensity of what she was feeling ... ?
    What male wouldn't be tempted to do anything to
    have her?
    So close . . . He'd almost broken down. If Rydstrom surrendered his will in this, he could impregnate her. And then, what if he couldn't escape before she killed him?
    His child would be raised by her and by Omort, used as a pawn. They wouldn't understand a demon child's needs. As if they'd care. He would never subject a child of his to the hell on earth they promised.
    She wanted a vow Rydstrom would not give.
    For a rage demon king to marry, he would make a claim and a vow of self: "I claim the honor of protecting and keeping you. You are mine - my consort to touch, to guard, to cherish. You will rule beside me and create our dynasty. Accept my claim, and it will be so, now and ever after."
    If his female accepted him, then they would be wed forever. But Rydstrom couldn't pledge his life to another under this kind of coercion. He would do it when he was ready.
    And when she was worthy.
    He heard footsteps, not hers. The attendants had already been here, leaving him free, clothed-A guard of five vampires materialized in his cell. One was Lothaire, the Enemy of Old. He'd been a Horde general, but Rydstrom had never engaged his troops.
    Rydstrom snarled, "What do you want-"
    They attacked as one. No matter how hard he fought, he couldn't repel them with only his horns and fangs, couldn't keep them from shackling his wrists and ankles together.
    When they traced him, he found himself in the court at Tornin. What Rydstrom saw there made his stomach clench.
    The well, that purest power, was strewn with grisly body parts. The most evil beings in the Lore were gathered around it, dozens of breeds-the Neoptera, winged insectlike humanoids, the Alchemists, eternally old men with long, straggly green beards, the Cerunnos, ram-headed snakes....
    In my home.
    Omort sat upon a gold throne, smirking. When Ryd-strom lunged forward, fangs bared, the vampires held him fast. Can't break free . . .
    "Welcome to my court, demon. The mighty Ryd-strom doesn't look so legendary now."
    "Fight me, you fucking coward!"
    Omort strode for Rydstrom, but then he stopped, turning his attention to the center of the court, as if helpless not to.

    Rydstrom s breath left him in a rush. Sabine! She was surrounded by females, bleeding from her mouth. Every protective instinct within him flared.
    When he grappled against the vampires, Lothaire gave him a sharp kidney punch. "Easy, demon," he muttered, his accent thick.
    One of the lackeys with Lothaire said, "Hettiah will just erase Sabine's illusions. I'll bet twenty sovereigns
    on her."
    "A fool and his money," Lothaire sighed. "Sabine will thrash her. That one burns rage like kerosene."
    Sabine's eyes did look glazed with a mindless fury. "What is this?" Rydstrom demanded.
    "A mere feminine row. Hettiah-the one who vaguely resembles Sabine-and her friends intend to murder your female. They see her failure with you as a weakness. They'll keep attacking her."
    Under his breath, Lothaire added, "Demon, you're killing her."
    "Release me so I can guard her!"
    "Keep watching."
    There were too many of them. She couldn't hold
    off a dozen. One snuck behind her with a dagger. "Sabine!"
    Like a shot, she dropped down, dodging the blade, sweeping her leg around to take out the female's feet. Once the woman fell to the ground, Sabine snatched the knife, then raised her booted foot to crush her enemy's face with the heel.
    She quickly turned to Rydstrom-looking shocked that he was there-before she made her face a mask. Their eyes met. Hers held a silent warning. He could do nothing to help her.
    In an instant, she made her body appear to dissipate into hundreds of flying bats as she cloaked herself in invisibility. Hettiah raised her hands, seeming to wipe out Sabine's illusion.
    But it was too late; when Sabine was visible once more, she already had her claws dug into Hettiah's scalp.
    Holding her in place, Sabine drew back her other gauntlet, made a metal fist, and punched Hettiah's nose. Bone crunched and blood sprayed with Hettiah's screams.
    Sabine kept her hold, twisting her slim body as she dodged Hettiah's blows. With her other hand, she aimed her palm at the