Claimed by a Demon King, Book 2

The moment the demon King Thorne of the Third Realm set eyes on the mortal huntress Sable, he knew she was his fated one. The fiery, dangerous female awakened hungers he had never experienced before, a dark craving and passion that has consumed him in their time apart. As the lunar cycle wanes, she enters his world again and nothing will stand in the way of him claiming his forever with her—not the relentless assault from the Fifth Realm or the dark elf male determined to seduce her out of his grasp.

Intent on achieving the coveted position of commander at Archangel, Sable leads her small team into the dark underworld and the Third Realm, to a war where her allies are the very creatures she normally hunts—vampires, werewolves, and demons. Her eagerness to lead the deadly mission has everything to do with winning her promotion, and nothing to do with the kingdom’s brash, lethally seductive demon king—a king who stirred fierce desire and wildfire heat in her with just a look and an innocent touch when they first met, and has been in her wicked dreams ever since.

As the gathering storm between rivals unleashes irresistible passion that flares white-hot and the heat of the battle brings life-shattering realisations, can Sable place her duty before her heart? Or will she surrender to her deepest desires and be claimed by a demon king?

Sable paced, hoping to work off at least a little of her tension before Loren arrived with his elves. She really didn’t need him noticing that she was wound tighter than he had ever been during his courtship of her best friend, Olivia.

She could do this. Mark had told her as much before she had left his office barely an hour ago. He wanted to give her the title of commander and this was her test. She wouldn’t fail him and she wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of her achieving that rank.

She had busted her arse over the past month, working twice as hard as normal in order to convince Mark and the senior staff that she was the perfect candidate for the role of commander on this mission.

It had absolutely nothing to do with getting a pass into Hell and seeing Thorne again.

Not at all.

She was going because she wanted the position of commander.

A familiar female voice cut off a deep male one and Sable smiled as she turned to glance across the courtyard.

Their transport was arriving. Scores of elves dressed in their tight black scale-like armour appeared before her eyes, the air shimmering around them. Prince Loren led them across the courtyard towards her, his long strides eating up the distance and his left hand resting on the hilt of the black sword sheathed at his waist. His black eyebrows knit into scowl and his purple eyes darkened.

The slight brunette beside him shook her head, causing her long chestnut hair to sway against the shoulders of her dark t-shirt, and waved him away. “I’ve told you a million times, Loren… I am going on this mission.”

Loren’s lips compressed into a thin line. Olivia was trying her mate’s patience again. He looked ready to grab her and teleport her back to the realm of the elves and leave her there.

Olivia had a mean stubborn streak though and that was another reason why Sable had been eager to win this mission. Olivia was her best friend at Archangel and she didn’t want her friend in the firing line during a war, but having her there was necessary. They needed a doctor on hand to take care of any injured. That and Sable needed the moral support of her friend on this mission. She would go crazy without her.

“Olivia,” Loren started and then seemed to think the better of whatever he had intended to say and scrubbed a hand over his face instead. He threw Sable a pleading glance.

Sable shrugged. Helping him was above her pay grade. She couldn’t overturn a decision made by Mark and the board of senior staff. Loren scowled again and turned back to his mate, speaking in a low voice now.

Sable glanced at Bleu as he strode to his prince’s right, meeting his green gaze. It was strange seeing him in better control of his emotions than Loren was, able to retain a more mortal appearance, concealing his normal purple irises and pointed ears.

She smiled at Bleu as Olivia began to rant.

Bleu raked long fingers through his wild black-blue hair and gave her a warm smile in return.

“I am going whether you like it or not,” Olivia snapped at Loren and then softened. “I know you’re worried but I’ll have you there with me, and Sable too. Archangel assigned me to this mission as the medic and to research any new species we encounter… and you know both of those things are very important to me. So I’m going and that’s final.”

Loren looked as if he had just lost a war. His shoulders slumped and he let out a long, weary breath. “Very well, Ki’ara.”

Bleu shook his head. “Olivia, you sound more like my sister every day.”

Olivia didn’t look sure whether that was a compliment or not. Sable had seen Bleu often over the past few weeks. He had visited Archangel whenever Loren had and Loren was rarely away from Olivia when she was working.

The dark elf commander was a great sparring partner and had helped Sable step up her game during their training matches. She was glad he didn’t hold back when he was fighting her.

Well, he didn’t hold back much. She knew he wasn’t going all out on her and in a way, she was glad. She had seen him fight and part of her knew she wouldn’t stand a chance against him, even if her pride wouldn’t allow her to admit it.

The only time Bleu hadn’t been with Loren was when his sister had returned to his family home for a rare visit. Bleu had disappeared like a shot. Sable had asked about this elusive sister and Loren had informed her that Bleu had only one sibling, a younger sister, and that he was forever getting her out of scrapes, but that only seemed to make him love her more dearly.

The indulgent and amused twinkle in his eyes at times made Sable feel that he was beginning to view Olivia with similar brotherly affection. It would be nice for Olivia to have family again after everything she had been through.

Sable idly rubbed her right wrist, her thumb caressing the stylised black cross on the inside of it, and tamped down the dark thoughts that threatened to rise and ruin her mood.

“Is everyone ready?” She checked her assembled team and then the elves. Loren had finally given up trying to convince Olivia not to come on the mission and was speaking with Bleu and several of his men. He motioned towards the crates and baggage, and a group of elves broke away, heading towards them.

The rest of the elves made their way over to her team, one for each member. A few low giggles broke the silence as the female hunters in her unit met the tall, darkly beautiful male who would be teleporting them.

Sable sighed this time. “Rein it in. This is a mission, not a Club 18-30 holiday. Remember that.”

Her hunters jolted to attention and nodded as one.

Sable just hoped that she could remember it. Whenever she thought about seeing Thorne again, she got the jitters. Stupid of her considering she had only met him once and for little more than a handful of hours. It hadn’t stopped her from desperately trying not to hang on every word whenever Loren had spoken of the demon king. It wasn’t like her, but she couldn’t help herself. Something fundamental inside her had changed the moment Thorne had barged into her life.

Thorne met often with Loren to discuss their arrival and arrangements, and to keep him abreast of the situation in the Third Realm.

Loren relayed everything to her.

It hadn’t satisfied her in the slightest. Loren never said how Thorne was coping with everything or how he seemed to him.

She wanted to know how he was doing and wanted to see that he was still well, and still the same brash male she had met a month ago. Of course, she refused to admit that to Olivia whenever her friend pressed her about Thorne, and her friend had pressed a lot over the long four weeks.

Sable had denied everything, refusing to admit that she couldn’t stop thinking about the demon king.

She couldn’t get that moment in the cafeteria out of her head. Thorne had teleported them back to Archangel after they had defeated Kordula, freeing Loren’s brother Vail from the bitch-witch’s spell. Thorne had stood with his hand on Sable’s arm, as if he couldn’t bring himself to let her go, and had stared at her for so long that she had ended up lost in his crimson gaze. He had opened his mouth to speak, had turned frustrated about something, and had teleported out of her life as quickly as he had come into it, leaving her confused and curious.

What had Thorne wanted to say to her?

Whatever had been balanced on those firm sensual lips, she wished he had just come out and said it because it had been driving her completely crazy. She had found herself pondering it at the strangest times. Dangerous times. A hunt was no place to lose track of your surroundings. That moment kept invading her head though, replaying in infinite detail, every shift in his body language and expression captured perfectly. With each replay, she found herself wanting to know more than ever what he had meant to say.

The first chance she had, she was asking him about it.

Sable grimaced and reminded herself again that she was going to Hell on a mission, not just to see Thorne. This was about the mission. This was about her future with Archangel. This wasn’t about the big, rough, demon male.

She jolted when someone took hold of her arm and looked up into Bleu’s eyes. Flecks of purple broke through the green, slowly taking over until not a trace of emerald remained. His violet gaze narrowed on her and he moved closer, towering over her, a vision of dark beauty and lethal grace. His lips parted, flashing white daggers at her. His fangs were down. The tips of his ears turned pointed. He had shaken off his mortal guise, revealing his true nature.

“Ready?” he murmured, his fingers lightly flexing around her arm and his gaze locked intently on her.

Sable blinked herself back the courtyard and nodded.

Her world disappeared in a swirl of cold black shadows. She closed her eyes against it. The heat of the sun on her skin gave way to the icy chill and then became a blast of moist warm air. The shrouding silence of the portal shattered under the explosion of grunts and roars and the metallic clang of weapons clashing.

The scent of morning became the odour of blood.

Sable snapped her eyes open and her heart leaped and pounded, quickening her blood and preparing her body.

The first thing she saw was Thorne shirtless and swinging his enormous broadsword at an equally massive bare-chested warrior. His opponent blocked with his own blade and growled, flashing huge fangs as he swung a meaty fist. The blow connected with Thorne’s right cheek and he stumbled, grunting as he struggled to regain his footing and ready his blade to defend himself.

Sable’s hand instantly went to the folded crossbow at her side and she flicked it open, pushing away from Bleu at the same time. Another immense demon attacked Thorne before he managed to right himself and the dagger sliced across the Third King’s thickly muscled right shoulder.

Thorne roared and finally launched himself at the males, taking them both on at once. They weren’t alone. The wide oval courtyard of the dark stone fortress was in pandemonium. Sable counted at least two dozen demons, all focused on him with their weapons drawn and at the ready. No other fought on his side.

The sight of him standing alone against so many adversaries, bleeding from multiple wounds on his torso and arms, brought a red haze down over her vision.

Sable launched herself into the fray just as one of the males attacked. Her heart raced, pumping adrenaline that made her feel high as she reached beneath her left arm, slipped her fingers into the rings on two of her throwing knives, and hurled them with deadly accuracy at the warrior. They nailed him in the left of his broad chest and his shoulder, and she didn’t give him a chance to recover his focus. She loosed a barbed dart from her crossbow at him, reloaded in the space of a heartbeat, and shot the other male now attacking Thorne.

The barbed dart embedded into the demon’s left thigh and he grunted, his eyes glowing crimson as he turned his attention on her. Good. She had to give Thorne a moment to recover his wits and get back in the fight.

The warrior stomped towards her, blood pulsing down his leg with each step, turning his black leathers slick and shiny. He growled, his top lip peeling back off his fangs, and shook his head. His dusky horns curled further, forming a loop and flaring forwards into twin dangerous points near his cheekbones.

Sable made a mental note to avoid them and drew the short blade strapped to her other thigh, ready to fight him. He swung the moment he was within reach and she ducked beneath the long silver blade, rolled forwards and came to her feet behind him. She slashed up his back, her knife splitting tanned flesh and scraping over bone, and grinned as he arched forwards and roared.

The thrill chasing through her blood increased, consuming her, driving her to keep going and embrace wildness it unleashed within her. She had been born to fight monsters and she felt it now more than ever as she faced off against the enormous demon males, swiftly calculating their every move before they could make it, ready for anything.

Sable grabbed a bolt with a thick cylinder on the end from her quiver pouch. Explosive dart. God she loved these things. She loaded it onto the small crossbow and swung to her left, aiming at the group of males storming towards her.

She grinned and pulled the trigger.

A large bloodstained hand clamped down on the weapon, grasping it and holding the bolt in place.

Sable growled in frustration and released her crossbow, leaving it in the demon’s hand. She thrust hard with her blade, blindly stabbing at her new enemy.

The huge male grabbed her wrist before she could drive the cold steel into his flesh. The tip pressed into his muscular chest and she froze when she realised it was Thorne frowning down at her, his rough masculine features crinkled in confusion.

“You seek to harm me, Little Female? I thought we had discussed this before?”

His deep gravelly voice washed over her and his thumb caressed the inside of her wrist. Sable trembled. The hot shivery ache rolling through her increased in intensity as he tugged on her wrist, gently drawing her closer to him, his red gaze holding hers, commanding and powerful. She couldn’t break its hold on her. She tilted her head right back, lost in his eyes as he towered over her, making her feel small and weak, vulnerable to him.

Sable dropped her blade, the clang of it hitting the stone slabs beneath her feet jarring in the thick silence. She breathed hard, firmly under his spell and unable to form a response.

She had forgotten just how gorgeous he was and how his presence lit her up inside like fireworks on November fifth.

“Well?” Thorne cocked his head to one side and a hank of wild red-brown hair fell down onto his bloodstained brow.

Sable slowly shook her head and forced words up her dry throat and past her lips. “I was trying to help.”

A smile worked its way onto his firm lips and he flashed short fangs. “That is very kind of you… but I do not require your assistance to spar with my men.”

Spar?

Sable inched her gaze towards the demon males to her left. They had all stopped and were staring at her. She looked to her other side, at her team and the elves, and cringed. None of them had moved. She alone had leapt into the fray.

A blush burned up her cheeks before she could stop it. Thorne canted his head again, raised his free hand and lightly brushed the backs of his short claws across her left cheek. She shuddered under the gentle caress, her pulse quickening for a different reason as the heat burning inside her exploded into wildfire. She had to get a grip. This was a mission.

“Did you believe me to be under attack?” he husked in a low, quiet voice that sent a fierce shiver through her, cranking up her temperature another thousand degrees.

She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She nodded, and admitting it left her feeling like a fool.

“And you came to my aid?” Had he moved closer to her? His breath washed over her cheek, moist and hot, smelling faintly of something sweet and the coppery tang of blood.

Sable nodded again.

“You are but a little mortal female… yet you desired to fight all these demon males in order to protect me?”

When he put it like that, she couldn’t stop herself from blushing harder. She had reacted on instinct but the tone of his voice and the way he drew her closer still, until she could feel his heat rolling off him and over her, told her that he thought she did it because she felt something for him.

Desired him.

She cleared her throat, finally locked down her emotions and found her voice again, and even the courage to lift her gaze to his. “Not out of favouritism or anything. I’m here on a mission and that mission entails protecting you and your kingdom from demons. I saw you battling a score of demons and I did my duty.”

She twisted her hand free of his grip and hated the sharp disappointed edge his eyes gained. It made her feel like a bitch. She grabbed her blade from the dark stone pavement and jammed it into its sheath, and then snatched up her crossbow and checked it over, taking her time about it, stewing under the intense heat of his gaze.

Sable kept her head bent and holstered her crossbow and the unused explosive dart. Thorne continued to stare at her. So did everyone else. She was not going to blush. She racked her brain, trying to think of something to say to make everything go back to normal, and diligently kept her gaze away from Thorne.

She had also forgotten how impossibly tight his dark mahogany leather trousers were. They clung to his muscular thighs, stretched over them like a second skin, held closed by criss-crossed lacing over his crotch.

Not staring. Not staring.

Her eyes betrayed her, leaping to the impressive bulge in his trousers, and she forced it upwards before anyone noticed. Thorne’s gaze locked with hers again, holding her immobile.

“I’ll need my blades and bolts back now,” she muttered, not quite with the world or aware of what she was saying.

Thorne nodded. “Of course.”

He signalled his men and Sable realised just what she had asked, and felt dismal as the men immediately tore the barbed darts and throwing knives from their flesh without giving a single grunt or revealing a flicker of the pain they must have experienced.

They came forwards and placed the weapons into Thorne’s outstretched hand. He wiped the blood off them on his leather trousers and then held them out to her.

Sable swallowed her guilt and took them from him. She slipped the blades away beneath her arms and put the darts back in her quiver. The silence in the courtyard thickened again. She wasn’t sure what to do. She had made one hell of a first impression—on her team, on the elves, on the demons.

On Thorne.

She wanted to groan and bury her head in her hands.

She needed a do-over on everything after she had appeared in the Third Realm. It really hadn’t gone as planned.

Sable tossed Olivia a look and her friend wiped the smile off her face and nudged Loren. The tall, slender elf prince looked down at his mate, his black eyebrows pinned high on his forehead. Olivia gave a subtle jerk of her chin towards Sable. Loren looked her way and understanding dawned in his purple eyes.

“King Thorne.” Loren broke away from his legion and Olivia, and crossed the short distance to the demon male.

Thorne’s gaze finally left Sable. “Prince Loren.”

Sable seized her chance to slink back unnoticed to her team. Some of them gave her funny looks. She ignored them and Bleu’s inquisitive stare and checked her team over, making sure they had all arrived safely.

Thorne’s focus landed back on her. She could feel it whenever it happened. A shockwave of heat rippled through her, awareness so intense that she could almost pinpoint how far he was from her and could visualise the way he was looking at her. Whenever he looked away, returning his attention to Loren, cold stole through her, fierce and frigid.

She rubbed her wrist, her actions mimicking the light stroke of Thorne’s thumb over her tattoo. It ached and burned. Had she hurt it in training? Or was it a response to the way Thorne had caressed that patch of skin?

She gathered herself, squared her shoulders, turned on the spot and calmly strode back to Thorne and Loren.

The two tall men looked at her. Their height and fangs were the only things they had in common. Loren was unnaturally beautiful, lithe and held an air of darkness around him that stemmed from more than just his black hair and obsidian armour. Thorne was rugged, immense and had an aura of danger surrounding him that warned even her away.

His gaze held darkness as he finished discussing the war with Loren.

She had the answer to one of her questions at least. Thorne was troubled. The war was taking its toll on him, pushing him to his limit, wearing him down.

“King Thorne,” she said without a trace of tremble in her voice and bowed her head. “I would like to introduce my team.”

He ran an assessing gaze over them and then returned his attention to her. “Little Female. It is kind of Archangel to send a small contingent of your forces to assist in my demonomachy.”

Sable bit her tongue, stopping herself from pointing out that she had a name and that this was a large contingent of their forces and all they could spare. She supposed that in comparison to the thousand immortal warriors that Loren had brought with him, her fifty mortal hunters did look rather pathetic.

“Sable,” Loren started and frowned when Thorne bared his fangs on a growl. Thorne cast his gaze down at his boots and clenched his fists. Loren arched an eyebrow at him, sighed, and continued, “Your hunters must desire to settle themselves in their quarters.”

Thorne growled again and this time Sable had the impression it was because Loren was suggesting things that he should have thought of and suggested first.

“That would be good.” Sable kept her focus on Thorne, pretending he had suggested it, hoping to calm him.

“You men,” Thorne barked and a group of demons near the large arched doorway of the impressive dark grey fortress saluted, pressing their hands to their bare chests. “Show the mortals and elves to their quarters.”

He signalled another set of males and gestured to the elves standing guard next to the black crates and bags.

“Take their belongings and follow their instruction to ensure they all end up with their owners.” Thorne glanced at her. “Come.”