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Authors: Felicity Heaton

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BOOK: Claimed by a Demon King
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Thorne quickly added, “Your friend mentioned that you would feel foolish.”

“A little.” Her expression softened and a blush coloured her cheeks, skin he had caressed more than once. She had let him run his claws over her soft cheeks and he knew that was a positive sign. She pushed Bleu away whenever he tried to touch her in a gentle or tender fashion, but she had accepted his caress. Sable’s colour deepened. “I didn’t do anything outlandish or flash my knickers, did I?”

Thorne shook his head. Were those things she had done while drunk before? The vision of her flashing her undergarments appealed to him and had him shifting on the bed, trying to ease the growing tightness of his trousers over his groin. He glanced back down at his knees and struggled to regain his focus so she wouldn’t notice the effect that she had on him.

“You didn’t have to do this.” She set her mug down and he lifted his head. She looked at him, right into his eyes, hers serious at last.

“I did,” he countered. “I was the one who allowed you to drink our mead and I gave no thought to the strength of it. I wanted to apologise.”

She smiled. “You’re getting good at this apologising lark. Apology accepted.”

She had taken the food as his apology. Fascinating little female.

He tried to smile but it wouldn’t come.

Hers faded and her black eyebrows pinched together. “You look troubled again.”

“Again?” he said, his own frown coming to the fore now.

She nodded. “You looked troubled when you were talking to Loren in the courtyard too. Is the war weighing on your mind?”

Observant little female. But it wasn’t only the war that constantly pressed down on his shoulders, clouding his mood. It was her too and his need to find a way to show her that he was the only male she ever needed.

Thorne sighed. “Among other things.”

Sable picked at her food, her amber gaze downcast, and silence fell over them both, heavy and thick with unspoken things. She knew what played on his mind and it played on hers too. She couldn’t deny it. He had made no attempt to hide that she was his mate, his fated female, and that he intended to claim what was rightfully his. She made no attempt to hide how that unnerved her. He could see it in her whenever they were in the same room.

Hidden in the beautiful depths of her eyes there was a sliver of vulnerability that only emerged whenever she looked at him.

The tower bells rung, the sound distant through the thick stone walls. His lips quirked as he thought of that quaint mortal phrase.

Saved by the bell.

He rose and she spoke before he could, her gaze darting up to his.

“You’re going somewhere?”

Did she want him to stay? He had taken her silence to mean that she wanted him to go and leave her in peace. Females were complicated little creatures, even more so than he had first imagined.

“I must attend the meeting.” Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. If she asked him to stay, he would. He would make no excuses to his waiting guests either.

“Meeting? Shit.” She threw the furs aside and Thorne froze.

His body instantly hardened back to the point of pain and he grimaced.

Sable leaped from the bed, dressed in only her small black top and a pair of tight black shorts, her long slender legs on display. A vision of her wrapping them around him as he pinned her to the wall and kissed her breathless filled his mind and his hard length ached with the need to make the dream into a reality. He palmed the bulge in his leathers and swallowed hard, his heart thundering against his ribs.

She grabbed her black combat trousers from the chair off to his left and bent to put her feet into the legs and he was done for.

The sight of her bending over before him shattered his restraint and he had taken two steps towards her before he realised what he was doing. The hunger to touch her, to fulfil his need to feel his female’s flesh beneath his fingers again, warm and soft, consumed him, driving him towards her and filling his mind with a vision of stepping up behind her, clutching her hips and drawing her back against his aching shaft.

She began to tug her trousers up and Thorne growled, the thought of her concealing her delicious body displeasing him and every instinct he possessed demanding he stop her.

Sable froze.

She slowly turned her head.

Thorne forced himself to move and turn away from her before she could catch a glimpse of him. If she did, she would see the hard-on he sported for her. If that happened and she showed a glimmer of interest, a spark of desire, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back.

He would kiss her again, and a lot more besides.

“If you are unwell, you should have your second in command take your place,” he said, trying to fill the room with noise so he couldn’t hear the soft rustle of her clothes as she dressed. He ran his hand over his mouth again, rubbing it hard, trying not to visualise her as she covered all that tight smooth pale skin. He wanted to strip the garments from her and lick every inch of her until she begged him to tongue her sweet spot.

He had dreamed of tasting her between her thighs, pressing his tongue in hard and stroking her until she cried his name in climax.

“No way,” she snapped, shattering the vision building in his mind. “He’ll report back that I was absent for the initial meeting and then that’s my promotion shot to hell.”

Thorne realised that he had made a grave mistake in suggesting someone take her place. She prided herself on her abilities as a hunter and Loren had mentioned that she viewed her mission here as important to something she called her ‘career trajectory’. She desired a promotion to a new rank.

He should have known better than to challenge her ability to lead her team, but his senses said that she was in no fit state to be out of bed and sitting through a long meeting with the other commanders and his instincts demanded he make her rest.

His darker side posed a question he couldn’t easily shake. If she desired this promotion in order to improve upon her rank and better herself, would she ever consent to being his? As his queen, she would be expected to live in his realm at his side. Could she do such a thing while remaining part of Archangel, hunting his kind in her world?

Would his people accept a queen who sought to kill them the moment they stepped out of line according to mortal rules?

Sable moved around him and he brought his gaze down to her, his thoughts troubling him. He ached to lift his hand and touch her cheek, to lay his palm against her soft warm skin and look deep into her beautiful golden-brown eyes to seek the answers to the questions that plagued him.

Could Sable lay down her weapons in order to become his queen?

His forever.

She stood before him dressed for combat, with weapons strapped over her black trousers and t-shirt, even though she was going into a meeting where only allies awaited.

It gave him his answer, and that answer made his chest ache.

Sable would never give up her life with Archangel in order to forge a new one with him.

Thorne wished that knowledge gave him the power to give up his chase but it only strengthened his need to claim her. The thought of her leaving compelled him to seize hold of her with both hands and never let her go.

“Thorne?” she whispered and he blinked and looked back at her, down into her eyes. “Is something wrong?”

The fated bond between them gave her insight into his feelings. She was probably unaware of it but he doubted it would take her long to comprehend the reason why she was so attuned to him, able to detect his shifting moods. It gave her power over him, making it impossible for him to hide his true feelings from her and making it easy for her to use his emotions against him. He hoped she never did.

“There will be another gathering tonight,” he said, the words distant to his ears, trying to fill the awkward silence again and avoiding answering her question.

She paled.

Thorne managed to smile at last. “I will… Olivia will keep you from the grog and I have asked the kitchen to prepare mortal food for you and your kin.”

Her eyebrows rose and warmth coloured her irises, surprise and gratitude burning in them. Whenever she looked at him like that, as if he was the only male in the world, he yearned to kiss her.

He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, gently clasping her left hand and raising it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and breathed her in at the same time, taking her soft scent deep into his lungs. Her gaze held his, captivating him together with the fact that she allowed him to do this, and his heart took it as a positive sign.

A sign of things to come if he could rein in his need and his instincts and find the key that would unlock his little hunter’s heart.

CHAPTER 6

S
able’s head was killing her but the ache in her chest eclipsed it whenever she thought about Thorne’s visit. She tried to concentrate on the meeting as the commanders and their selected subordinates were brought up to speed on the war between the kingdoms and discussed the plan of attack.

Thorne sat at the head of the long rectangular table in the middle of the expansive library, five places to her left. Two tall arched windows allowed dim light to filter in behind him and the lamps on the table provided a warm glow that cast the shadows back into the recesses between the bookcases lining the walls.

At the other end of the table, Loren sat with Olivia next to him. The vampires lined the side opposite her together with the elves. The werewolves had decided to sit on her side, muttering dark things about bloodsuckers in English. She supposed they meant both the elves and the vampires.

It had taken Thorne several minutes to get everyone settled and to subdue a few slanging matches between the various species present. Loren had helped settle the elves. The vampire commander had sat back with his hands clasped behind his head and let his men do as they please. The werewolf leader had at least attempted to calm his men. She said attempted because he had recited a few weak rounds of ‘calm down’ and ‘silence’ before he too had sat back and let the wolves have at the vampires across the table.

Sable had stared at Thorne the whole time. She hadn’t meant to but it had been impossible to convince her eyes to leave him while he had stood at the end of the table, demanding order as his horns slowly curled, his eyes gradually brightened and his ears grew pointier.

He had been such a contrast to the gentle, quiet man who had sat with her in her room after bringing her breakfast as way of an apology.

A man who had gazed upon her with barely leashed desire in his eyes that had slowly burned through her control and pushed her towards surrendering to the wicked urges that came upon her whenever they were close to each other.

How would he have reacted if she had kissed him?

He wanted to kiss her, and the erection he had tried to hide from her while he had blatantly stared at her breasts told her that if she had kissed him, it wouldn’t have ended there. He would have taken more from her this time, demanding she surrender completely to him.

That sent a thrill through her even when she knew it shouldn’t.

Evan already looked as if he was waging a constant battle against spouting the words clearly balanced on the tip of his tongue. He wouldn’t hesitate to remind her of what she had said back at Archangel about this not being a Club 18-30 holiday if she did give in to her desires.

Sable concentrated on the notes she had scribbled onto her pad. The plan was sound, if not a little dangerous. Luring the enemy to them meant placing many villages at the borders in danger and Thorne would be in danger too. He had made it clear that he and he alone would engage the Fifth King. Apparently, it was the done thing in demonomachies. Only kings fought kings.

She thought it was a stupid tradition and she had no qualms about agreeing to it here and now and breaking the rule later when they were on the battlefield. She was damned if she would let Thorne lose his head because he insisted on fighting solo. He was strong, powerful, and capable, but together they were stronger.

Sable pretended that thought stemmed from her mission and her duty as the commander of the Archangel team. Her heart whispered that it stemmed from her soul though and the feelings that came over her whenever she thought about Thorne fighting his enemy. She wanted to protect him. The incident in the courtyard had made it clear that he, and no doubt every other demon present, thought that a little mortal female throwing herself into battle at his side was quaint and sweet, and stupid, but it wasn’t going to deter her. Every instinct she had said to protect him and she had never denied her instincts. They had saved her too many times.

Her gaze drifted back to Thorne and heat travelled through her, burning up her blood, as their eyes locked. Perhaps there were some instincts better left denied.

Like the one telling her to get up on the table and crawl the length of it to him, and to take his strong square jaw in her palms, tip his head up and gently kiss him until his restraint shattered and hers broke with it.

Thorne growled low, flashing a hint of fang, and his eyes brightened, burning crimson and setting her aflame.

“Perhaps it is time we retire to attend to our men and other business ahead of this evening’s gathering?” the vampire commander said.

Her eyes darted to him, her heart skipping a beat as she realised he had been staring at her the whole time, studying her while she gazed at Thorne, and was now insinuating they needed to be left alone.

“Very well.” Thorne rose from his seat and, damn, his body shifted sensually beneath his white shirt and tight dark mahogany leathers, cranking up her temperature to boiling point. He bowed his head to the assembled and then did something unexpected. Rather than looking at her, he swiftly turned to his second in command, a demon called Fargus.

Sable closed her pad and stood. Evan got to his feet beside her.

“We should run through the drills and make sure everyone is prepared.” Sable turned to Evan and pretended she didn’t hear the barely audible growl coming from Thorne’s direction. She had to speak to her second in command and Thorne would just have to deal with it.

BOOK: Claimed by a Demon King
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