Chapter Two

Davian stormed into the castle, having left his Arabian with stable attendants. He took the steps of the sweeping marble staircase two at a time, reaching the sixth floor. He strode agitatedly along the east wing and into his study. Stripping off his riding gloves, he tossed them on the desk.

“My Lord, is there a problem?” Sheena asked as she joined him.

She’d likely been curled up in her chair in front of the fireplace in the adjacent sitting room, awaiting his return, as she was prone to do. She moved gracefully toward him, a stealthy vampire with flowing dark-auburn hair and penetrating green eyes. A striking woman, yes, yet she held no allure for him. The object of his never-ending obsession had grabbed his attention eight years ago and had not let go of it since.

“May I pour you a drink?” Sheena offered in her cultured English accent.

“A large one,” he said, his voice as tight as his bunched muscles and coiled gut.

Davian’s highly competent and overly astute assistant handed him a snifter of brandy after he’d shed his full-length cloak. He took several big gulps and she waited patiently for his next command.

When it was not forthcoming, she surmised, “Something went awry with the human?”

At that very moment, the general of his army sauntered in. “Well, she’s certainly onto us now!”

Davian glowered at the leader of his militia—and his longtime friend. “I don’t need commentary from you, Morgan. I’m perfectly aware I fucked the whole thing up.”

Instantly backtracking, the general said in a placating tone, “It was merely a reconnaissance mission, your Highness. No harm, no foul.”

“Wrong,” Davian all but growled before he drained his glass. With a slight wince from the burning sensation in his throat, he added, “At this point, Jade knows we’re watching her and that violates the law I laid down.”

“I suspect she knew someone tailed her before this evening, when I was the only one following her,” he admitted. “She’s always looking over her shoulder, stopping from time to time to listen for footsteps.”

“She wouldn’t hear any, nor would she see you. You’re a wraith. You can take male form,” as he did now, “or you can simply disappear. Become an apparition that vanishes into thin air.”

“I still could have been the one to tip her off,” Morgan further contended.

Davian shook his head. Fury tore through him that he’d been the one to bungle such an easy quest.

Then again, no. It hadn’t been easy at all. Nothing ever was when it came to the bewitching Jade Deville.

Davian had come across her years ago, heart-stricken and tearful, and he’d been instantly entranced by her. Though he’d maintained his distance, he’d watched her carefully that evening. Had then studied up on the people she was close to and had learned as much as he could about her.

He knew she’d once had a relationship with Michael Hadley that had gone sour. So tonight, when Michael had moved in for a kiss… Davian had flinched and his horse, Thunder, had been inclined to let him know he was making an ass of himself by reacting to another man kissing a woman Davian had no business lusting after in the first place.

One, she was mortal. That alone erected a steel cage around him that was not to be breached no matter how arousing he found her.

Two, he had no idea what sort of power she possessed or how she’d obtained it, but something mystical built within her. He had the keen ability to sense it, though he had no idea what the budding strength was or from where it stemmed.

She didn’t practice Wicca, Morgan had already confirmed that. But Davian had discovered one of Jade’s acquaintances worshiped ancient pagan gods and their rituals. Yet Lisette Bordeaux had been bound by edict not to practice any sort of witchcraft. This had been Davian’s ruling, when he’d instituted the regulation no demon could harm a human.

In his mind, if he kept to the law of averages, making it illegal for demons to cause further trouble for the humans and making it impossible for Wiccans such as Lisette to use vanquishing spells against the immortals, peace might prevail.

The war had caused too much destruction and had altered not only the face of the planet, but also civilization as everyone—human and demon alike—had known it at the beginning of this century.

In many ways, time had stood still after the last sweep of near human eradication. The intent of the war had been to reduce the numbers significantly, in favor of Davian’s kind. Not completely wipe out the mortal population. The humans still had their uses; though modern advancement in the post-apocalyptic world was not something he supported, leaving this new society with baser provisions that were essentially throwbacks to the 1800s, a simpler time he preferred.

Davian, who’d turned two hundred years old back in 2019 when the war erupted, did not miss the spoils of a high-tech world. He was old-fashioned that way.

“Something—or someone—threatens my reign,” he said to Morgan, elevating his need to determine what was transpiring with Jade Deville. It was too damn bad his libido kept getting in the way.

For fuck’s sake, if he didn’t stop feeling so territorial toward the human, he might end up losing his kingdom!

After taking another sip of the drink Sheena had efficiently refreshed, Davian said to Morgan, “I’m immortal by lineage, but I don’t possess the ability to vaporize. You’re going to have to continue your surveillance on Jade.” It was more than that. He simply couldn’t be objective when it came to this woman.

Morgan said, “Of course, I’ll do whatever necessary. And I will be much more careful in the future, your Majesty.”

It was not necessary for Davian’s best friend to address him so formally in private, but he always did when it came to military matters.

Gripping Morgan’s shoulder with his free hand, Davian said, “I made the mistake tonight, not you.” He gave further thought to the situation and added, “It’s been several days since Jade has visited Lisette and chances are good she’ll be dropping by soon. I need to know what they discuss. If it’s magic I’m sensing, then we have to stop the power from burgeoning. One witch in the village is risk enough. Two, who might be able to combine their talents into a single significant strength, could prove detrimental when it comes to keeping the peace. They impair even one demon and there will be hell to pay. I won’t be able to stop it.”

With a curt nod, the general said, “I understand.”

“There will never be harmony between us and them, but we don’t need another massacre. I am adamant about never again unleashing the demon population on mortals, but my hand might be forced if Lisette—or Jade—breaks my rule and those in my alliance demand retribution. Or seek it on their own.”

“I assure you, whatever they’re up to, I’ll find out about it and report immediately to you.”

A subtle shift in Davian’s demeanor and the tense atmosphere caused Sheena to bustle about, feigning indifference over his new quiet contemplation.

“Is there something more, Davian?” This from his friend, not the general of his immense army.

Conflicting emotions warred within Davian. He was the Demon King. Powerful and revered. Never challenged by others. Never doubted.

Yet he doubted himself these days, an internal plague that could undermine his authority.

Actually, he’d felt the push and pull within him for several years now. Since that night he’d come across Jade and had gazed at her over the river separating them.

She’d sat along the shoreline, tears wetting her cheeks. The moonlight had cast a shimmery glow around her, lending an angelic appearance. Not at all the way she seemed in reality. No, he’d witnessed from afar the raven-haired, blue-eyed spitfire in action when she was riled and he’d been as captivated with her fiery spirit as her emotionally damaged soul.

He couldn’t explain why. It went well beyond her stealing his breath with a sculpted face, high cheekbones and full, luscious red lips. She was also tall and curvy, enticing in a way that made his cock throb at the mere thought of her. But Jade Deville was a peril best avoided because she not only stirred his senses, she also brought out a protective side of him that contradicted his entire existence.

She was human and a commoner living outside his walls. He was immortal and king of the land he’d conquered.

And yet, there was something about that very sentiment that held him hostage. He’d never wanted to be king. He’d never wanted the almost impossible to stop annihilation of humans. He’d been a puppet. A very effective one, because he clearly had the ability to command an innumerable force. But his hands had been tied. He’d done as was expected of him by his dominant, influential family.

And perhaps therein lay the crux of his problem. Maybe his punishment for being cajoled into taking on a task he’d not agreed with from an ethical or a political standpoint, but which had been thrust upon him, was to suffer through an unrequited infatuation that could not possibly, in any capacity, be fulfilled.

Or…maybe being locked in a hopeless situation was the key to his redemption. For Davian’s military undertaking had gotten completely out of hand because he’d made too good a ruler in the demonic world. And was now strapped with the moral consequences for the rest of his eternity.

Was his torment meant to be the catalyst for some sort of restitution and restoration that encompassed more than simply keeping the peace?

His hand dropped from Morgan’s shoulder. He moved away, turning his back on his friend. Perhaps what had been set into motion had a specific purpose in this new world.

Davian said, “It’s possible the die has already been cast. Leave Jade be for now.”

* * *

Jade was not followed home that night. And while it came as a relief, it also struck her as odd. She’d grown accustomed to the mysterious stalker. It had never been a comforting presence, yet there had been something alluring about not being all alone in the woods of Ryleigh, given she’d felt alone the majority of her life. A point Michael had successfully made this evening.

As she entered the cottage and slid the wide, heavy-metal latch into place on the door, she wondered who’d been outside the tavern, watching her. And why. While she fanned the flames of the low-burning fire in her living room, she considered the possibilities. Was she being stalked for the inevitable purpose of being preyed upon? Or had the Demon King sent one of his wraiths to spy on her?

She would concede she had abilities that might draw speculation and concern from the king. But Jade had never used any of her natural powers in front of another and had told no one of what she was capable. Not even Lisette.

From the time Jade was a little girl, she could skillfully move objects with her mind. Her psychokinesis had alarmed her at first—what normal person could do such a thing?

But then she’d witnessed her father, Liam, moving his pipe from the mantle to his hand without ever getting out of his chair. The “gift” they both possessed had been their shared secret. Never to be revealed to anyone else. Never to be used in front of another, including Jade’s mother.

There was a second gift Jade had discovered when she’d fallen from a horse and had broken several bones. Those bones had healed at such an accelerated rate, her father had insisted he be the only one to tend to her. With instruction from the local physician to straighten her limbs so they set correctly, Jade’s father stayed by her side while her body repaired itself.

He’d had to backtrack and announce he’d been overly dramatic in his assessment of her injuries—so overcome with fear and grief, he’d assumed the worst—when, instead, she’d merely had the wind knocked out of her and that had made it impossible for her to move, causing Michael, who’d been riding with her, to seek help from Liam. Given her father’s principal position within the village, and Jade’s expeditious recovery, the lie had not been questioned.

Recently, Jade had added a third specialty to her obscure talents. The ability to sense an evil entity when it skulked along the periphery.

Convinced she still wasn’t under observation at the moment, she ducked into her bathroom and splashed water on her face from the glass basin sitting on the vanity, then dabbed at her wet skin with a towel. The plumbing was akin to that in a rural cabin with a septic tank buried in the side yard.

She changed into a pewter-colored flannel nightgown and built a small fire in the hearth in her bedroom before slipping under the covers. It had been a busy night at the tavern. That, combined with her tribulations, left her exhausted. She was asleep within minutes.

But her overactive mind did not rest. Jade dreamed of Michael. A mental vision she hadn’t conjured in a year or two. Her subconscious homed in on his earlier lean-in and what might have happened had the demon on the horse not interrupted them.

In Jade’s reverie, Michael’s lips brushed hers. A tentative kiss full of uncertainty, yet laced with desire. The street corner melted away and the images playing in Jade’s head were of her and Michael lying naked in her bed, his body covering hers. Her hands roamed his back and she writhed beneath him.

It had been eight long years since Jade had been with this man—the only man she’d ever been with—and her base need for intimacy was more acute than ever, given her close encounter with him this evening.

She yearned for a deep, sizzling kiss. To feel him inside her.

She whispered, “Make love to me.”

“Yes,” he murmured.

Though it wasn’t Michael’s voice she heard.

The dream took a wayward turn as a thick shaft slowly penetrated her aching pussy. Jade’s body moved with the stranger’s as he filled and stretched her. His features morphed from Michael’s athletic physique to an even more muscular one. Wider shoulders, larger biceps, stronger back.

He was a mammoth of a man, in every way. Jade’s inner walls clenched his hard cock as their hips undulated in a languid, sexy rhythm. Her palms moved over his sinewy backside and cupped his ass, as much as her hands could manage, because he was huge from head to toe.

She couldn’t see his face, given that it was burrowed in the crook of her neck. His mouth was on her throat and he nipped at her flesh, then soothed the love bites with his teasing tongue and warm lips.

One hand caressed her breast, and her body responded ardently to the tender massaging and the sweeping of the pad of his thumb over her puckered nipple. Back and forth. Pebbling the sensitive bead tighter.

Jade moaned and it seemed to encourage him. He thrust into her more aggressively, driving deep, hitting all the right spots along the way.

Her spine arched in her need to get closer to him. She dragged a hand from his backside and wove her fingers through his lush, obsidian hair. The tension pulled taut within her and mixed with the searing desire flooding her veins.

“You feel so good,” she told him.

His low groan resonated in the quiet room—and straight to her core. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“I’ve needed you for so long,” she confessed.

Though she had no idea who he was. In her dream, it didn’t matter. He was supremely built and powerful and that heightened her arousal. He was also a masterful lover, with an uncanny familiarity of everything she burned for.

Her clit tingled and her heart hungered for a kiss she knew would be passionate and all-consuming.

As his full, forceful thrusts pushed her closer to the edge, she begged, “Kiss me.”

His mouth crashed over hers, claiming it. Claiming her. There was nothing tentative about his scorching lip-lock. No uncertainty. No restraint. As his tongue delved into her mouth while his cock continued to stroke fervently, Jade felt the erotic sensations inside her soar to all new levels.

She was desperate for the explosive release she knew he’d give her, but did not want to let go of the fiery bliss blazing through her. Nor did she want to relinquish her hold on him or end their impassioned kiss. Everything about her phantom lover sparked carnal cravings and she wanted to stop time and simply savor the most exciting and stirring moments of her life.

But he continued to plunge into her slick, wet depths. As his strokes became shorter and more frenetic—and his kiss turned hotter and more demanding—Jade lost herself in the magnificent sensations simmering within her until they reached the boiling point and erupted spectacularly.

She tore her mouth from his as a rasping cry wrenched from her lips and echoed in her ears. She held her lover to her as her body quaked and her pussy clutched him firmly.

Astonishingly, over the thundering of her heart and the pounding of her pulse, she was able to hear four words whispered in a strained tone.

“I truly want you.”

And then he came inside her, his hot seed filling her as his body convulsed.

Another earth-shattering orgasm rocked Jade so hard, she jerked awake. Her eyes popped open, bulging. The throbbing between her legs was wickedly vibrant from both the release and the need to feel in reality what she’d experienced in her dream. She stared at the ceiling, her breath coming in heavy pulls.

The climax slowly ebbed, but her breathing remained ragged. She sat up and glanced around the room, almost certain she’d find her ethereal lover lounging in the chair in the corner or stoking the fire in all his naked glory. As though he were real.

But, no. Jade was alone in her cottage in the north woods.

As always.

Or was she…?

A harsh grunt from an animal outside her walls drew her attention. Untangling herself from the covers that she’d mangled in her restless slumber, she shoved her feet into tattered slippers and raced to the double doors in her bedroom that led to a covered patio overlooking the river. She released the security latch and threw open one door, stepping out onto the cobblestones, sprinkled with snow that had blown in from the unshielded sides.

Jade’s arms wrapped partially around a wooden column. She shivered from not only her fantasy and the orgasm that had transcended it, but also because she knew someone had been near her house while she’d slept. Her gaze scoured the area with the help of the glittery rays from a crescent moon that hung in the now-cloudless sky. The snow had stopped falling, but the storm had left behind a good foot of powder, as she’d assumed it would.

There.

In a patch of downy white, across the river and to the west, she saw the indentation of horse hooves. The tracks led from the northern edge of the narrow river—the opposite bank from hers—into the expansive stretch of forest that lined the base of the ridge where the Demon King’s castle stood.

An icy breeze blew across the land, ruffling her hair and billowing the skirt of her nightgown.

And carried with it the pain-filled neigh of a horse.