Worry made him look toward her to see if she was in some sort of trouble, despite his need to focus on his attacker. The absolutely murderous intent in her eyes, fixed on Naharan, had him diving for the floor just as a wave of white energy crashed through the room.
Glass and wood shattered where it connected, catching two of the Prince’s accomplices in its wake, though Naharan himself managed to duck at the last moment.
That girl was going to be the death of him—literally, if she didn’t work on her aim.
Pushing aside his urge to rush to her and ensure she didn’t use any more of her life essence, he dove for the gobsmacked prince. At least his little mate had bought him a moment’s advantage, and a moment was all he needed.
Roaring with triumph, he clasped both hands around Naharan’s throat. When he saw his enemy’s eyes widen with terror and felt his spine finally snap, Kain pulled his lips back in a snarl.
Deep satisfaction throbbed through his veins and pounded in his temples as he tore the Prince’s throat from his body. Blood sprayed from the ghastly wound, and he opened his mouth to taste its metallic pulse, letting his senses fill with the sweet rush of victory.
No one would ever try to take his beloved from him again.
Kesh and Kirigan had gotten the upper hand on the remaining demons, and the dusty air filled with the scent of blood and guts as they systematically slaughtered their enemies.
Kain stared down at his fallen opponent—the male who’d thought he could claim his mate—and felt nothing but grim satisfaction at his ruined throat and glazed eyes. There was no turning back now; he’d killed the Prince of Demons, and from his demise he would grasp the political power needed to keep his family safe.
Selma. The need to hold her in his arms overwhelmed him now that the threat had been eliminated. He rose and looked for her.
She was still standing by the crates where she’d been when she let her power wash over the room, but instead of the deadly determination she’d exhibited before, her expression was now wary and a little frightened as she looked out over the destruction.
His little mate. He was so fiercely proud of how she rose to the occasion when she needed to be strong, but at her core, she was still a gentle soul.
She startled a bit when he rushed to her side, but her hesitant look seemed to be reserved for the blood spatter covering his face and body rather than his demonic form.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” He placed a hand upon her cheek and frowned at the lines around her eyes. He had mated her a few hours before they separated, but drawing on the white energy seemed to drain her fast. “You promised me you wouldn’t try to interfere.”
“Excuse me for saving the day,” she bristled, full lips drawing into a pout.
Their softness tempted him, and he swallowed a groan as his instincts demanded he mount his prize after defeating the challenger to her warm little cunt.
“He almost killed you—did you really expect me to just do nothing?” she continued, her tone more than a little indignant.
Kain found it hard to focus on her words, his eyes roaming her soft form hungrily. His battle rage had been momentarily displaced by his concern for her well-being, but now that he had ensured she was safe, the testosterone in his blood was roaring for a different kind of outlet.
With a low growl, he pulled her body flush with his and lifted her, reveling in the way her curves molded against his hard muscles. Everything about his little Breeder was inviting and soft, and he loved the way her flesh dipped under his strong fingers.
“Oof! Kain!” Selma protested as he crushed her against him. He quelled her objections by claiming her lips and demanding access to her mouth.
For a moment she relented, turning pliable as he kissed her deeply, and he’d already decided to have her then and there, sparing no thought to his father and brother or the mangled bodies.
But then she stiffened in his grasp. Before he had even tasted her, she pulled her head away and whacked his chest with her palm.
“Ew!” Her outburst was followed by wild spitting at the floor, and she squirmed violently in a clear effort to be put down. He didn’t oblige.
“You taste like blood! That’s so fucking gross! Don’t even think about doing that again before you’re clean!” The last bit she snapped at him when he leaned in to silence her protests once more.
Kain hesitated, the need in him to mount and claim her for just the briefest of moments making him consider shoving a hand down her pants to twist her ring so she’d be more agreeable. But her angry glare brought him back from the edge of his instinctual madness.
With a sigh he let her slide to the floor, though he kept both arms around her. Forcing his mate to couple in the middle of torn-off limbs and pools of blood was unlikely to earn him any favors, though he personally found the thought quite appealing.
Selma rubbed at her mouth with the back of her hand and shot him another dirty look, but at least she didn’t try to break away from his hold. “And that one? What do we do with her?”
He looked in the direction she nodded and saw Kesh holding the last surviving member of Naharan’s group by the neck with casual ease.
Kain’s lip curled with renewed anger—his instincts were snarling at him to kill every last one of the bastards who’d thought they could take his mate from him, but he knew he couldn’t give into the urge to rip out her guts. Not yet at least.
“We need a witness who can attest to our claims when we take over control of the continent. We need as many of the Lords on our side as possible, and the more proof we have, the better. You will tell everyone exactly what happened, won’t you?” Kain raised his voice slightly toward the end, giving their captive a pointed stare.
