Kain had a long, shallow gash running the length of his abs, and Naharan was bleeding heavily from his chest and a split eyebrow.
Growling menacingly, completely lost in primal fighting instincts, they circled each other, ready to leap at the first sign of weakness.
This time, it was Kain who attacked first. The blood from the Prince’s split eyebrow dripped down, making him blink—and that was all the advantage Kain needed.
Moving so swiftly Selma’s human eyes couldn’t follow, he threw himself at his opponent. Naharan failed to evade, and Kain struck hard enough they both toppled to the ground, the Lord Protector on top.
While Naharan fought to throw him off, Kain snarled viciously and brought both fists down hard over the other male’s face.
A sickening crunch echoed across the arena, followed by absolute stillness.
For a moment Selma thought he’d killed the Prince, but then she saw him move weakly in the sawdust. Blood covered his entire face.
“Kain wins!” Maell’s voice boomed through the silence.
At that, the Lord Protector got up from the ground, leaving his opponent in the sawdust before turning toward the cage—toward her.
His black eyes locked with hers through the bars, and though the wildness in them was clear, her body only responded with throbbing lust. There was no fear, no terror of what he was underneath the facade of strong muscles and angular features—only pure and overwhelming need.
Kain turned his head back to the crowd, cutting their eye contact and leaving her with a pathetic sense of longing. She needed him, needed his closeness, his touch, his hard body against and inside of her own.
“This Breeder is mine!” Kain’s deep voice boomed across the circular room. “Any of you step foot in this arena, and I will make sure you regret it!”
Maell, who’d managed to get Naharan up, moved toward the center of the arena again. “You certainly have made your interest in claiming her known, brother, but the auction isn’t over yet.”
Kain’s head whipped around, his profile pulling up in an animalistic snarl as he growled at the other demon and his shoulders tensing with unbridled fury.
The obvious display of aggression made Maell pause, his eyebrows creeping up ever so slightly. Without taking his eyes off Kain he said, “Does anyone wish to make further bids on the Pure Breeder? I remind you, this is your only opportunity to claim her.”
Only silence met his statement—silence, and the unwavering growl from the ebony-eyed demon staking his claim.
“Very well. At the price of three hundred million dollars, the auction has ended! Lord Kain, you may claim your mate.”
Kain kept his eyes on the auctioneer for another moment. Then with a slow and deliberate scowl, he let his gaze slide over the spectators—his beaten opposition.
And then he came for her.
Selma scrambled to the cage door just as it swung open—undoubtedly at the behest of Maell’s magic—and stumbled out into the arena.
She’d barely taken more than a step before he was in front of her—so big she had to crane her neck back to see his still battle-fierce face, and so amped up on adrenaline and testosterone that he didn’t even seem to notice his bruised knuckles or bleeding stomach.
“Selma.”
Even his voice was rough and filled with the fire that had been drawn from him during the fight, but it was still not fear that made her shiver in his presence. Just the sound of him, of her name on his lips, made her feel… safe. Even naked and surrounded by demons.
Even knowing what had to happen next.
Arms corded with muscle so thick they were practically the width of her torso wrapped around her waist and pulled her the last bit of the way into his embrace. His body burned against hers, but it only made her melt against his powerful form as tension drained from her.
Safe.
She pressed her nose into his chest and greedily inhaled his intoxicating scent. It was so much stronger than she remembered, so much richer.
“You came for me,” she choked out over the appreciative noises her throat seemed to be producing without her consent. “You came.”
“I promised to protect you.” Strong fingers threaded through her hair, pulling her head back gently, but insistently.
Obediently she tipped her head to look up at him.
