Demon Slave (22 page)

Confusion was etched in the creases of his
wild eyes, mixed with another familiar expression. Desire. Eyes
darting, his mind working, he reached for the girl. But when she
whimpered in fright, he gave a harsh sound of frustration and
backed away.

Suddenly, as if everything were made of some
fragile material, the vision faltered. The familiar sound of wind
rushed past her ears. In jagged bursts, the arena dropped away,
replaced by a harrowing war zone.

Wind whipping through her hair, Nadua stood
at the edge of a cliff, one that she recalled from a distant
memory. By the vibrant green landscape, blue sky, and two distinct
suns, she knew it to be Evlon, her home planet.

The air was choked with flying contraptions,
reigning destruction on the land. Below was a frenzy of bodies,
tearing viciously at each other.

There were others with her on the cliff. One
person she recognized as Marik stood at her back, fending off ugly
creatures aside several other towering males.

Most of what she was seeing was blurred as
though she were seeing it through solidified fog. Some actions were
moving out of sync with others. This was the kind of vision Nadua
was used to. A vision of the future. Or rather, as her father would
say, “A possibility among possibilities.”

Nothing in the future was a certainty.
Everything was changeable, pliable. Like soft dough. If Nadua
decided not to continue on with Marik, this future would never
exist for her, but it might still transpire for him.

The vision transformed again.

She saw Marik, clawing and snarling, pushing
toward her. An army of Cyrellians holding him back. His face
twisted into a chasm of malefic intent as he held her gaze. He
looked even more enraged than in the arena

Overpowering the soldiers, he lunged.

The vision shattered on a gasp.

Both demons glanced over at her with
concern. She reassured them with a wave. Marik looked away
first.

Three separate visions at once were rare.
And the last two were a conundrum. Was she being shown two possible
futures? Either Marik fights with her, or against her, in lieu of
some event that has yet to take place? Or, was it a warning of some
sort, that she be wary of Marik? Or of doing something that would
cause him to seek her life? What could she have done to anger him
so?

Since deciphering the visions was nothing
more than a guessing game at this point, she might have no choice
but to find out.

* * *

From the corner of his eye, Marik watched
Nadua’s sleeping form. The gravity of the situation caused his
insides to twist painfully. She was his.

His mate.

Now that his mark was on her, there was no
denying it. But there was also no taking it back. Since he claimed
her during one of his blackouts, he was sure she hadn’t had a
choice in the matter.

More twisting.

Of course she’d had no choice; she didn’t
even know what it meant.

Marik never fathomed that he could
unknowingly do such a thing. How was it even possible? The fact
that she was his mate shouldn’t have come as such a shock.

Again he peeked at Nadua, unsure how he
could conceivably make this right with her.

Just after she had fallen asleep, Rex put
distance between them, out of respect for Marik’s claim on her.

Good man.

His confusion as to why she wasn’t bunking
with Marik was evident, as was Marik’s need to bring her to his bed
and hold her within the protection of his body. To have her scent
clinging to him all night.

But he resisted that urge.

Nadua was angry over the admission that he
didn’t remember making love to her. If she were more familiar with
his culture, she would be even more livid. Claiming a female
against her will was considered an extremely disgraceful and
depraved act.

How much more dishonor can I bring upon
myself?

Rex seemed to have known Nadua was his from
the start, and Marik wanted to know why that was. In Demonish,
Marik asked, “How could I not have known she was mine?”

Until it was too
late
.

Rex raised his head slightly, responding in
kind. “Sounds nice to hear my language spoken again.” He paused,
brandishing a sad smile before continuing. “It’s different when a
mate is not of our kind. Not as obvious, or easy to accept.”

Marik recalled Sebastian’s turmoil over
Anya. “How is it you knew Nadua was mine, when I did not?”

Rex chuckled softly. “Your initial reaction
to me, for one. You were on the Edge before you even realized you
were awake. Then, afterward, your body language made it clear. You
often herd her away from me if she gets too close.”

Marik hadn’t realized, but thinking back, he
knew Rex was right.

“
Also, I’ve been witness to
a mating such as yours before.”

Interest piqued, Marik motioned for him to
continue.

“
When the Kayadon attacked
our home planet, I was captured and taken aboard a slave ship,
along with several others. While docked at a station, a group of us
escaped the slavers and hijacked a nearby ship. The crew was of
mixed lineage and we had intended to remove them from the ship at
our earliest convenience. But since we were unfamiliar with space
at the time, our leader, Orson, struck a truce with their
captain.”

Rex picked at the last of his carcass and
Marik waited for him to go on.

“
It was uneasy at first,
but over time, we grew to depend on each other. All this time my
friend, Grayton, acted strangely toward one particular female named
Elyra. A dragonshifter. Do you know of their kind?”

Marik nodded.

“
Well, Grayton grew more
and more obsessed with Elyra. He tried everything to keep his mind
from her, but he could not. None of us thought it was possible to
find a mate outside our race, and many believed Grayton was nearing
madness. It wasn’t until Elyra made her feeling for him known that
Grayton became himself again.” Rex shrugged. “A few weeks later, we
were celebrating their matehood.”

Marik digested this. It wasn’t far off from
Sebastian’s story. But deep down Sebastian had known, hadn’t
he?

I should have
known
.

If Marik had had the slightest inkling about
Nadua, he would’ve taken better care around her. He wouldn’t have
allowed himself to imagine her naked body writhing under his, her
screams echoing in his ear. He wouldn’t have been tempted to lose
control with her.

He had told Nadua that he didn’t remember
what happened between them, and that wasn’t entirely true. He
remembered her barely stifled moans, her scent, like a drug, and,
ah, gods, her taste. He recalled her soft flesh giving way under
his. Being with her had been the most amazing experience of his
life.

But then, she had asked him to be still, and
he feared he’d hurt her. Flashes of the arena assaulted him...and
the rest dimmed to black. When he came to, he was spent and her
neck held his mark. Shame had never been so consuming.

Rex interrupted his thoughts. “So, what’s
your story? What happened to you after the war?”

Marik lowered his gaze. “I didn’t
escape.”

* * *

Ava gave Wren a withered look as he took her
hand and gave it a light kiss. Normally she would have done
something silly like giggle or blush.

Not today.

“
You look lovely,” he said.
He was dressed neatly in his best uniform. His decorative sword
tucked by his side.

She didn’t feel lovely. She felt like going
back to bed for the next two years. But her aunts and Wren and even
Terina, who had held her through the worst of it, were imploring
her to make an appearance.

Sr. Baret, with his oh-so-important lineage,
had requested the use of the throne room to throw a ball for his
daughter’s day of birth. It was a wonder his daughter, Jestina,
hadn’t acquired the same sense of entitlement as her father. She
was a good friend, and Ava wished she could feel some happiness for
her today.

But how could she possibly go down there and
see all those people, dancing and being merry, while she had just
barely stopped crying over Nadua.

Both of Ava’s aunts stood by the door,
impatiently waiting. Idesse, in her tight purple bodice and flowing
skirts, and Odette, in her black ensemble with a matching hat woven
into her shimmering white locks.

Ava had chosen a simple pale gown.

Odette stepped forward and placed a hand
over Ava’s shoulder, giving her an encouraging smile—which ended up
looking rather painful. “Avaline, dear, if there is any hope of you
keeping your crown, you must retain the support of the Nobles. And
that means going to this little party and showing off that pretty
face of yours.”

Odette was usually, what Nadua called, a
hardcore bitch. And Ava knew she was struggling to show some
compassion at the moment.

“
Unless you don’t care that
your father wished for you to be queen.”

Ah, there she
is
.

With the news of Nadua’s death spreading,
the future of the kingdom was quickly becoming uncertain. Peace was
tenuous, and nobles were positioning themselves to take her place
as proxy. They all expected Ava to announce her recommendation
tonight. Then later, she, her nominee, and the highest nobles would
meet, and discuss the future of the kingdom.

The last time a decision like this was made
was when Nadua took the throne, and she had needed to utilize the
army to keep it. Throughout her life, Ava had been in awe of
Nadua’s diligence and strength.

Ava had asked her one day how she’d managed
it. Nadua’s reply had been, “Whoever controls the army, rules the
land.”

It made sense because no one could stand
against Nadua. She’d been fierce and confident, but at the same
time benevolent. Could anyone rule as well as she had?

Reading her thoughts, Idesse asked, “Who
will you choose?”

“
I’ve not yet
decided.”

“
You must decide quickly.
This decision could affect all of us. This is not a game,
child.”

“
I’m well aware, Aunt
Idesse, how important this is. If I am to claim my title when I
come of age, I must choose someone who will not try to overthrow my
rule when it comes time for them to step down.”

But I don’t know who to
trust
.

Both her aunts had offered themselves, of
course, along with half the kingdom. If only she were a few years
older. All of this would be irrelevant.

“
Come, Idesse.” Odette
motioned for her sister to leave with her. “Our Avaline will make
the right decision.”

When they were gone, Wren held out his arm.
“Are you ready?”

“
Give me a minute.” Ava
straightened her dress and took a few deep breaths. Then her
shoulders slumped. “What should I do, Wren?”

With the crook of his finger, he lifted her
chin. “Whatever you do, don’t let them see your fear. A leader must
be a source of strength and courage.”

“
But I am neither of those
things.”

“
Aren’t you? You have a
spunk that cannot be tempered. You’re tenacious when you want to
be. Self-possessed and poised when you need to be. And your heart
is as true as your father’s.” Taking her arm, they made their way
through the hall. “You will make a fine queen one day.”

In the throne room, soft music played while
couples danced. Ava sought out Jestina right away. Like always,
Wren stayed close.

“
It’s good to see you,” Ava
greeted.

“
You, as well,” Jestina
replied, then she placed her hand on Ava’s shoulder. “I haven’t had
a chance to see you since...well, I’m so sorry—”

“
This ball is lovely,” Ava
interrupted. The last thing she wanted was break down in fresh
tears. “Your father did a wonderful job putting this together for
you.”

Jestina smiled. “You know very well my
father had nothing to do with the décor, or the food. The servants
are to be credited. And the people? They’re all here for you, I’m
sure.”

“
Unfortunately, I think you
might be right.” The room was packed.

“
At least I can boast that
my ball was attended by all the great families. Look”—she
pointed—“even the Muray’s are here.”

“
Ah, Irina will be so
jealous.”

“
Not if she can procure a
husband from tonight. I saw her dragging Destin onto the dance
floor.” At Ava’s consoling look, Jestina shrugged. “She can have
him.”

Sr. Baret appeared beside his daughter. “How
wonderful to see you again, Princess Avaline. We are honored.”

“
Thank you. I’m glad to be
here.”

“
Have you decided who
you’ll be nominating? A few of us have a bet going and I would love
to know if I should bow out now.” He winked.

“
Father!” Jestina
chided.

Ava unclenched her teeth, and spoke as kind
as she could. “I’m delighted, Sir Baret, that you can find some
entertainment under the circumstances and I would hate to ruin your
fun.”

Sr. Baret paled. “Of course I meant no
disrespect, my dear. I offer my condolences for your loss.”

Wren spoke from behind. “Princess, would you
care to dance?”

She turned, thankful for the excuse to step
away. “Yes, please.”

Wren led her onto the floor and they started
moving to the elegant music.

“
You okay?”

Throat tight, Ava gave a nod.

Be strong, she told herself.