She shifted with a pleased sigh, then realized the heavy weight which rested halfway on top of her firmly enough that she couldn't move, yet lightly enough to not crush her, was the reason she felt so warm.
Startled, she forced her eyelids open.
Bulky muscles covered in olive skin caged her from all sides. When she yelped, it constricted around her already pinned torso, gathering her closer to a massive male chest.
At the same time as his oddly familiar musk registered in her mind, memories from the night before flooded back—Memories of the female demons who had tortured and humiliated her, of the gut-wrenching need they’d forced on her, and of him: Lord Protector Kain, the demon who’d saved her.
He had taken her to his home, and… Truth be told, she wasn't entirely sure what he’d done, because while he’d sated her desperate need and taken his own pleasure from her, his approach had been far different than Marathin’s. In fact, he had seemed pretty unwilling to bed her…
Selma frowned into the mattress when she recalled what he’d said—that his magic would kill her.
The demon who’d captured her had told her about the demon Lords and their magic—of how it killed any but a few humans who were inexplicably immune to taking their dark energies inside. The so-called Pure Breeders.
Of which she was one.
But Kain… Kain didn’t know. And so long as she kept it that way, he might not try to lay claim to her like Marathin had.
She breathed deeply in an attempt at letting his soothing scent placate her waking brain. She was nowhere near as terrified as she should have been, waking up naked in the clutches of an enemy, most likely because his heady scent had been playing tricks with her mind while she slept.
She bit her lip, trying to shake her thoughts free of the drugged feelings of safety and complacency. He might seem kind and caring, but he was still one of them, and she would never again forget what they truly were: monsters only capable of kindness as an act of deceit.
She would have to bide her time and attempt to play him like she had the demon who had captured her. She’d escaped once before—she could do it again.
As if her whirling thoughts had pulled him from his sleep, Kain groaned into her hair a few moments later. Then one of his oversized hands slid up her bare stomach to round over a breast.
Selma flinched despite the lazy simmer of lust low in her belly, her thigh bumping into something hard that scraped tantalizingly against her skin.
His spiked dick.
Oh, God.
She may have already been up close and personal with the large male fondling her in his sleep, but she'd been lost in the ring’s curse. Feeling him shift against her, touching her so intimately, reminded her that he was truly a stranger… and that she was at his mercy.
His groan turned to a rumble that vibrated through his chest. He kissed the top of her head as if he sensed her panic even in his sleep and tried to soothe her, but after a few seconds, he stopped. He was awake.
Withdrawing his hands from her body, he rolled off her. “Are you okay?” His voice was gruff, and not entirely from sleep.
Selma dared a look up, truly taking the Lord in for the first time. His features were all angles and sharp masculinity, too strong to be called beautiful, though they were softened by his full lips. She could still sense the otherness vibrating from him like she had in the bar, his power almost too much for her brand to blind her to his true form.
He was an attractive man, even if she knew what he was. Rough and big, with stubble on his chin, hair the color of rich mahogany, and eyes so dark they looked pitch-black even in the dim morning light. Three deep scratches marred his right cheek, and dried blood crusted on the shirt he’d kept on while they slept.
“I am.” It came out as little more than a whisper. “Thank you for… saving me.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks as he briefly let his eyes slide over her naked body. Now that she was no longer wrapped up in his warm embrace, she felt cold and exposed lying uncovered next to this stranger, and she couldn't stop her arms from moving to hide her breasts and sex.
Kain heaved a deep sigh before he rolled over with his back to her and sat up. “Go take a shower, little one. The bathroom is past the door by the mirror. When you’re done, we’ll talk.”
Talk. Selma watched him rise and walk out the door opposite the end of the bed—the end, where one of the intricately carved bedposts had been broken off—and frowned. No doubt he would either force her to the auction she’d run from, or…
Or he would realize what she was and would try to claim her for himself.
Either way, as much as he had saved her last night, she knew the only things she could expect from him now were chains and an eternity of servitude.
Selma bit back the onset of hopelessness and pushed out of the bed. She had survived so far—she had to remember that. She’d been captured, blinded, raped, and tortured, and yet she’d survived.
Whatever she had to do to escape this time, she would. Which meant that she’d need her wits and strength about her, or she might as well give up and accept a future as a broodmare for these monsters.
The bedroom was framed by a black carpet and white walls, one of them completely covered by floor-to-ceiling windows sporting an unsurpassed view of the city. The large bed and a dresser in matching wood were the only pieces of furniture in the room, but when she craned her neck she could see that the third door, opposite the one by the mirror Kain had pointed out as the bathroom door, opened up into a luxuriously large closet.
