Bride of the Demon King Read online

  Harrow looked down at the small bottle in his hand, and he uncorked it. A slight sniff told him it was an exceptionally strong truth potion. His queen was a healing mage.

  He must have been lost in contemplation for a few minutes, because when he was next disturbed, Reemor was bringing two guardsmen with him who appeared to have dressed in a hurry.

  “Lord Harrow, this is Private Jamis and Private Ledon. They were at the Neemin gate last night. Here is their manifest.”

  Harrow took the document, and he grinned at the first entry. It was crossed out with black in a frenzy of ink. There was no mention of the potion on the list, so the potion had to belong to the first entry.

  “Who was the first person to come through the gate?”

  Jamis straightened and brushed back his blonde hair. “It was a farmer named Corskall heading for the southern territories. He left a cask of wine.”

  Harrow held up the small flask. “Where did this come from?”

  The men looked at each other, and their brows furrowed. Ledon cleared his throat. “That didn’t come through our gate.”

  Harrow was nearly dancing in his delight. He focused on Ledon and pressed his mind. There was a ruby-red bubble over a memory that would not be moved. Harrow prodded at the rock-hard magic, and his senses began to hum to life.

  He withdrew from Ledon’s mind, and he inclined his head. “Reemor, I need horses and a dozen men. The day is wearing on, and my bride is waiting. I don’t want her slipping through my grasp. I may be irritated when I do catch up to her otherwise.”

  “Yes, my lord. Congratulations on the location.”

  Reemor left, and Harrow turned to the two nervous men. “Now, how many roads lead in and out of Neemin?”

  Ledon lifted his chin. “There is one road out of the village that runs through the southern woods. Outside the woods, it branches into three roads that lead south, east, and west. If you begin at the border of the city lands, you will have the best chance of tracking your prey.”

  Harrow rose to his full height and opened his wings. “She isn’t my prey, she is my bride, and soon, she will be my queen.”

  * * * *

  The light crept over her eyelids, and Emrie bolted to her feet, swaying slightly. “Damn it! I am late.”

  She set breakfast to warming while she worked packing everything she owned into crates that fit on a cart that Mithas could pull.

  She took her hair down, brushed it out, and pinned it up again, setting her veil in place. She quickly had tea and the toasted bread with jam before she heard the hoof beats approaching her cottage.

  “Damn it.” She got up, straightened her shoulders, and pulled down her veil, setting her arms in her robe and getting ready to face whatever villager in need was approaching. The fact that there were over a dozen horses out there didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to answer the door like a professional.

  She stepped a few feet back and waited for the knock.

  Emrie felt him on the other side of the door. She had only been this close to him once before, and it had been his distraction at being wounded that had let her get away. Concealing her scent from him had been the hardest part.

  Despite her preparation, she jumped when the knock sounded. Who knew that fate would make actual noise?

  Chapter Three

  Emrie opened the door and looked up and up at the demon lord on her doorstep. “Hello, is there something you need?”

  He was every bit as intimidating as she had heard. He was over seven feet tall, had skin that was a strange combination of blood and bronze, his hair was a thick midnight blue, and his eyes were a bright, flaring gold that was fixed on her veil.

  “There is something here that is mine. I have been searching for it for the better part of a decade. Can you help me?”

  She could see through her veil very effectively, and she could see in his eyes that the experience was a shared one. “What are you looking for?”

  “My bride.”

  She lifted her veil and looked him in the eye. The men in the background gasped. “If you are the Demon Lord Harrow, then I am your bride.”

  His smile showed a great deal of fang. “I am Demon Lord Harrow.”

  She curtsied deeply. “Then, I am your bride.”

  He bowed and extended his hand to her. “May I know your name, for it is no longer Aliette?”

  “Healer Emrie is the name I wear, though I have worn a dozen in my life.” She slid her hand along his, and her skin turned from its pale beige into something softly gold. The ripple moved along her flesh until she felt like she was wearing power on her skin.

  “Demon Bride Emrie, it is an honour to bring you to your new home.”

  “Is that where we are going?”

  He lifted her into his arms. “It is. Men, get her things and bring them to the stronghold.”

  She grimaced. “I am already packed; my horse can pull a cart that carries it all. Why are you bothering with my things?”

  “You are a healer, and healers need labs and workrooms.” He relayed her instructions to his men, and six of them moved to finish packing her up.

  She was being held against his chest, and she welcomed his scent. She had been looking for it all her life.

  The massive horse in her front yard could only be his, and as he walked to it, the beast held still for him to mount up.

  At no time in the process did Harrow come close to letting her go.

  The ride to the city took about an hour, and from there, it was another twenty minutes to the palace.

  A few minutes from her cottage he asked, “Why the truth potion?”

  “It was the most expensive thing I had with me. It was time for tribute, so that was my offering.”

  He chuckled and shifted her, so she was sitting upright with her back against his chest. “I deeply appreciate the gift. Without it, I would not have found you.”

  She sighed. “I had been attending patients in Neemin. They needed some counselling, so I stayed too long. The gate appeared in front of me.”

  He shivered against her back. “You have lived this close to me for how long?”

  She smiled. “Not this close. But at my cottage for three years. I moved there when I finished my training at the healers’ academy.”

  “The healer’s academy, in my city?”

  Emrie grinned. “My caretakers and I thought that you would not look under your own nose, as it were.”

  “It was a successful ploy. I do not normally enjoy the smell of medicines.”

  “I know, it was in your file.”

  He bent down and whispered in her ear. “I have a file?”

  “Several. I had to commit them to memory before it was destroyed.”

  His hands wrapped slowly around her torso. “What did you learn?”

  “Favourite foods, favourite colours, favourite battle tactics, and which of your harem you favour over the others.”

  He sat up straight. “Damn. I am going to have to dismiss them. I would have done so before I left, but I have chased your shadow before.”

  Emrie twisted and looked up at him. “Dismiss them? All demon lords have harems. Even the ones with queens.”

  “My father and mother inherited this land, and when they had me, they clung to each other through each trial of my development. At no time was I taught that it would be acceptable for me to keep other women once I wed. Both my father and mother were very clear on that. The demon lord was a title, but I am still Harrow of Rothfield in my soul.”

  “What about when you become demon king and your impulses fight to impose your will on the world?”

  His hands squeezed lightly. “I will have my queen to hold me in check.”

  She analyzed the feel of his hands on her and smiled as she looked out at the world between the horse’s ears. He was the first man to touch her with interest in his hands that hadn’t repulsed her. His instincts might have been set on seduction to ease the burning in his body, but right now, his hands had ten
der care and careful restraint in them. He was keeping her safe.

  Emrie thought about the men who had grabbed her when she tended women in the brothels and the poorer sectors of town. She had been seventeen when she had accompanied a healer on rounds, and a man in the brothel had ignored the signs of a healer, claiming that she was in costume. That was the event that manifested her knife, and his cut had bled until he had begged forgiveness. He had bled for four days until he had come to the healer’s school and knelt in front of witnesses, begging for forgiveness and healing. She gave him both.

  After that, there were a few attacks while she was working, but they all ended their cycle of violence on their knees and sobbing as they lost blood for weeks in some cases.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Men and what lengths you have to go to in order to educate them. I am sure you are going to be the exception to the rule.”

  He chuckled. “I am sure that I am not, but I am willing to learn what it takes to please you.”

  She was bemused by that but murmured, “I believe I am exceedingly high maintenance.”

  “I look forward to the challenge.” He pressed his chin to her head, and she could feel his chest expand as he breathed deeply.

  He brought his wings forward to shield her from the snap of the wind. He surrounded her, and she took her own turn to breathe his scent. This was the moment she had been waiting for. She didn’t understand when she was a child, but now that she was grown, she had a better idea of the need to pair with someone and what it meant. If it worked out, it would mean giving up a part of herself, but she would get so much more in return.

  Harrow’s benefit with her at his side would be power. Her benefit would be to offer her skills to their community, the people who had shaped her even when she fought them. She would bring all she had to her position and help Harrow to his full evolution. If happiness could be gained along the way, she would take it. Knowing that she was where she was supposed to be had already started her on her path.

  The horse walked through the city, and the people stopped and stared. Some giggled and some pointed, so Emrie sat up straight and unpinned her hair, letting it cascade over her shoulder to hang low. Her hair was her glory and her bane. She couldn’t cut it. It hung nearly to her ankles in surprisingly light waves, but it was impervious to damage. She pinned it on her head to keep it out from underfoot, but now, it was one of the signs of her position.

  She looked at each and every face with her ruby-red gaze. She knew her eyes were unsettling, but it also was not a look that anyone could copy without going blind. The sneering populace straightened in shock, and then, they bowed as she and their lord passed.

  “Subtle.” He shifted slightly. “I am a sincere admirer of your hair.”

  She blinked and smiled slightly. “So, I am not to lean back?”

  He exhaled sharply. “If you would, that would be wise. My self-control is a little thin today.”

  She fought her grin and kept her back straight and eyes on the growing crowds. Folk were running to alert their neighbours, and soon, lines of well-wishers flanked Harrow’s horse.

  It sounded like the whole city was cheering by the time they reached the stronghold. “That is encouraging.”

  “It is not every day that a queen comes home.”

  On the steps of the stronghold, the demon lord’s court was gathered. Emrie took in the sight of the concubines and had to admit that Harrow had varied taste. The women were also very cold if their nipples were any indication.

  Harrow dismounted and then turned to offer her his hands. She leaned into him, and his grip around her waist tightened. She was lifted off and set next to him. He offered her his hand, and she settled her fingers against his.

  He nodded to the man with the clipboard, and he said, “Reemor, pension and release the harem. Provide them with large dowries and allow them to leave to any destination they like, under escort.”

  The women gasped. A blonde rushed forward and threw herself at Harrow’s feet. She clung to the dark leather of his leggings and wept. “My lord, please. I don’t want to go. This new woman can be allowed into our company without loss of our status.”

  “Miska. That is not possible. I will not have my concubines and my queen under my roof. It is not respectful.”

  Emrie waited to see what happened next. If they followed protocol, they could stay but not touch the demon lord again, by his own decree. She would need attendants to help her with her daily tasks, and she would need her own secretary. She would prefer her secretary to be a female, but if they were going to insist on being difficult, she would skip the drama and see them gone.

  Miska’s hand crept up toward Harrow’s erection. Emrie moved so quickly that even Harrow didn’t react. She was behind Miska with a hand pulling the bejewelled locks back and her head with it. The queen’s blade was at the concubine’s throat.

  “Now, mistress, Harrow has made his will plain, and I will make it plainer. I will not have the likes of you creeping into his bed after making your home elsewhere. I will not risk disease to myself or my lord. You can take your grabby hands and leave this stronghold, or I will take you out one piece at a time, and no one will want you after I am done.”

  Emrie blinked at her own savagery. She was a healer by nature, but that woman’s hands on her mate blanked her mind and fired up her instincts. He was hers, the blonde had had him long enough.

  Miska whimpered and stretched a hand out to Harrow. “Please, my lord.”

  Harrow crouched and faced his ex-lover. “This is my queen, this is her home. I built it for her one stone at a time. You have known since the day you settled here that when she came, you would go. There was never any possibility of anything more. Your contract stipulated the details, and it was read to you before you signed it.”

  Emrie tilted her head toward the other girls. “Can any of you read?”

  A shy redhead raised her hand. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Harrow glanced over. “Tyda. New arrival. She was sold to another demon lord, but he didn’t like redheads, so he asked me, and I have taken her in. She is untouched as far as I am aware.”

  Emrie pulled her knife from Miska’s throat and yanked her away from Harrow. “Now, mistress, get your funds and leave, or you will be chatting to the knife again, and I can’t guarantee what I will do. Demon queens are very territorial.”

  Miska sobbed, and Emrie hissed. “Knock it off. If you acted this much in bed with Harrow, no wonder you want to keep such an easy job.”

  Her mate stood. “Hey.”

  She waved that off, and the woman scuttled away, hiding behind the secretary.

  Tyda looked at Emrie and stepped forward, her gauzy skirts rustling and her chalky skin slightly flushed. Tyda knelt at Emrie’s feet, and she bent her head. “I swear service to my queen and will follow her edicts in matter of morals and deportment.”

  Emrie touched her hair, and something happened. Tyda’s skin took on a milky-golden hue, and when she looked up, her blue eyes were amethyst. “I accept your fealty and request that you act as my personal secretary.”

  Tyda took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I will serve with honour.”

  “Rise, Tyda, demoness of the queen’s court.”

  Tyda stood. “Thank you, my Queen.”

  Emrie looked to Harrow, and he was shocked. “You can make a demon?”

  She quirked her lips at him. “You mean you can’t?”

  The world around them erupted with shouting, and Harrow escorted her inside while Reemor took care of the courtiers and the concubines.

  There were other things to be discussed.

  Chapter Four

  Harrow took her to his private study after ordering Reemor to prepare the queen’s quarters. Emrie was curious about Harrow, and she looked at the way he arranged his study to learn a bit about him while he left to attend to something.

  When he returned, she had noted that he alphabetized his books, had a collec
tion of histories of the demon queens, and a large assortment of magical tomes. She was flipping through a defensive spellbook when he brought a tray of food with a few carafes on it.

  “Here is something to eat while we talk. I know you had a bit of a meal this morning, but I never pass up the opportunity to have something tasty nearby.”

  She paused and then looked at the impish look in his eyes. “That is very funny, but I do wonder how this will work. I have never particularly enjoyed the sensation of touch.”

  He set the tray down on a side table and turned back to her. “I find that hard to believe. I could feel the start of your interest in the pulsing of your heart.”

  Harrow walked up to her, and she set the spellbook down. He wrapped one huge hand around her neck and smiled. “There it is again.”

  She opened her mouth to refute that assertion, and he kissed her.

  Emrie had been exposed to clumsy attempts through her veil, but this was not one of those. Harrow warmed her, surrounded her, and cherished her with each slow stroke of his lips across hers. When his tongue slid against hers, she blinked in surprise and clutched at his shoulders.

  Her pulse thundered in her veins, and she pushed in close to her demon lord while magic began to curl in her belly and whisper between her thighs. The positioning of the magic was peculiar, and she pulled back. For a moment, his hand tightened on her neck as if he wouldn’t release her, but then, his grip relaxed.

  He exhaled against her mouth, and his breath was sweet. “Too soon?”

  “Unfamiliar. I have only ever heard of sex from parties who needed help. No one has ever described anything like this.”

  She stroked his chest, neck, and the strong line of his jaw before she reached his horns. They were warm to her touch. He was staring at her as she explored him.

  “Why are they warm?”

  He chuckled. “I am guessing that the same magic that swirls within my horns is what is causing you distress. When the magic rises, it mimics the natural lusts of the body and then drives them higher.”