Inside the queen’s chamber, he gazed down at her slumbering form with revulsion. His sweat mixed with demon blood and dripped from his forehead, splatting her face.
She woke, eyes widening as she drew a breath to scream.
He snatched her by the throat, throttling her. “The monster you made has returned to its creator.” He traced her to his dam’s grave, then released her.
She rubbed her neck. “H-how did you get free? Did you offer sexual favors to a traitor?”
“Guard your tongue, Magh. Or I’ll take it from you.”
Her gaze darted to the burial mound. “What do you want from me?”
“Payment.”
Expression calculating, she stepped closer to him. “I can give you a castle filled with gold.”
“Think it will be that easy? How much are you offering for my mother’s life? For the centuries you forced me to whore?” Every dawn, to be under that sword . . .
“And you obviously loved it!” she hissed. “Offered freedom, you still preferred to mate creatures for coin.”
“Loved? As you love to torture me? You’re maddened with desire for your whipping boy, and it guts you!”
The truth was there on her face.
“If you harm me, my offspring will avenge me,” she told him. “Saetthan will take your head with his ancestors’ sword. The last thing you’ll know is Titanian steel.”
“No. Because I’m going to hunt down your spawn and all of theirs. Saetthan will fall like the others.”
“That’s your plan? My heirs are guarded far better than I was. Most live in other dimensions. How will you find them?”
“One—at—a—time.”
She swallowed. “Will you murder me first? Burying me here?”
“Pollute my mother’s grave site with your foul body? Never.”
Confusion. “Then what?”
“I thought about taking a like retribution. Selling you into whoredom, and watching customers brutalize a former queen. They’d pay extra for you to wear your crown,” he said, relishing her look of horror. He’d always envisioned centuries of revenge on her. Yet that would take time and involve risk.
A stray thought arose: Orion awaits, promising triumph. “Instead, I’m going to give you what you’ve always needed and secretly wanted.”
“And what is that?”
“My kiss.”
True terror shone in her eyes. He yanked her closer. She tried to turn away, but he was far too strong.
His kiss was cold as ash. As deadly as flame. . . .
Jo woke in shock, gasping a breath. Rune had endured that torture? Surviving it?
For ages, Magh had claimed his last kiss. The lips that brought Jo pleasure brought others doom.
Good. She was glad he’d gotten his revenge on that bitch! Jo’s satisfaction faded when she recalled what she’d learned.
Earlier, Rune had confessed Magh had sold him, only to buy him back for torture. But he hadn’t only been a slave; that queen had forced him into sexual slavery.
Jo remembered him asking her in bed, “Were you a pleasure slave?” There’d been a hopeful note to his tone. When she’d told him she was a protector of prostitutes, he’d tensed.
She put her hands over her face. She’d called his home a whorehouse weekender.
Cheeks burning, she sat up and stared at him sleeping. Pre-dawn light filtered in through a window, lovingly painting her dark fey. His face was relaxed, calling to her. His head was turned, his hair fallen back to reveal the side of his shaved scalp and his ear. It twitched. Even in sleep, he’s listening for enemies.
Her heart ached at the thought. Had he never known peace? She hoped Orion had given him the triumphs he’d promised.
She would have to confess these memories to Rune soon. But he and Jo had come so far, even over the last day. How would he react knowing she’d discovered his innermost secrets?
She exhaled a long breath. Wanting only to comfort him, she gazed over his body. He was hard beneath the cover.
He needed; she wanted to give. She might not be able to deliver peace, but she could deliver pleasure.
Mission accomplished, Jo thought when she heard Rune whistling from the nearby washroom.
They’d just shared a brief, lukewarm shower after “breakfast.” As she waited for him to finish shaving, she dragged clothes from her bag.
She’d only intended to give him a blowjob, was kissing the tip when he’d awakened. “I was just dreaming of this very thing,” he’d said in a sleep-roughened voice. “Does my beautiful girl want her breakfast?”
He’d maneuvered her body until she straddled his mouth at the same time. Between kisses, he’d commanded her to feed.
After she’d come till her vision was blurry and he’d released so hard his heels had planted into the mattress, she’d tried to crawl off him, but he’d smacked her ass. In a surly tone, he’d growled, “Want my breakfast too,” then he’d lazily licked and nuzzled until her toes had curled. . . .
Despite her recent cataclysmic orgasms, lust kicked in yet again. How was she going to hold out from having sex with him?
When he’d worked his fingers inside her, telling her how badly he wanted his cock to replace them, she’d wanted it too.
After her dreams, she didn’t know if he would ever commit to her, mate or not, considering what he’d suffered in the past. But she did know she could never share him.
She’d just finished dressing when he returned with a towel around his waist and a wide grin. Could he be any finer? “Somebody’s in a good mood.”