He is massive. More muscle even than Lucian, his presence oppressive—almost suffocating. His skin is deep crimson, molten heat rippling under the surface like banked coals. Horns sweep back from his skull, their polished obsidian gleam catching the light. His eyes are pits of living lava, glowing with heat and hunger. The golden throne cradles him like a lover, flames licking its sides in eternal worship.
When he sees me, the huge demon leans forward on his throne.
“And what have you brought me today?” He asks the guard, his deep voice rumbling through the room.
“My Lord—I found her wandering through the bazaar,” the guard says, dragging me forward. “It is a Curvy Queen.”
He rips away my hood and cloak, revealing me completely. The slinky black dress clings to me, emphasizing every curve. I hate that I’m not wearing any underwear under it, but I didn’t see any bras or panties in the closet when I went looking for something to wear. My arms fly up to cover myself, but Kael’s eyes rake over me hungrily and I have the sinking feeling he can see everything, no matter how I try to hide my body.
“Well, well.” His voice is deep and rough with a growl that slides along my skin. “A Curvy Queen, here in my hall. What a gift.”
I swallow, hard and shake my head.
“I don’t understand. Why does everyone here act like…like plus-sized women are some kind of holy grail? Back home, I’m invisible.”
Kael leans forward, his sensual mouth twisting into a cruel grin.
“In the Human Realm, perhaps. But here in the Shadow Realm you are prized above rubies. Abundant flesh means abundant magic. And you…” His eyes narrow, burning hotter. “…you are radiant, my Queen. Your aura bleeds crimson—it is brilliant…alive. Lust magic coils in you like a serpent waiting to strike.”
Heat creeps up my throat. First Lucian claims I have the Sanguis Vita in my blood and now this guy is saying I have lust magic—all because I’m curvy.
Well, I don’t believe it.
“You’re lying,” I say flatly.
Kael Varaxis chuckles, the sound deep and dangerous, rumbling like an earthquake under molten stone. He lounges back on his golden throne, draping one massive arm across the armrest as his eyes burn into me.
“Lying, am I?” His grin flashes sharp teeth, white against red skin. “No, little Queen. I see your aura—bright, blazing red—hotter than any flame in this chamber. It sings of lust…of hunger waiting to be unlocked. That is no lie. That is the truth written in your very blood.”
“I don’t buy it,” I snap, though my voice wavers. “This obsession—this whole Curvy Queen thing—it’s insane. You’re making it up.”
“No.” He leans forward, his lava eyes glinting. “Your kind are rare in our land—dangerously rare. That is why the Magistrate outlaws you. Do you not know our history? Wars have been fought over women like you. Whole Syndicates burned to ashes because rival Dons coveted an Abundant Queen’s blood and body and magic. Even now, each Syndicate craves you for their own ends.”
He begins to count them off on his clawed fingers, his voice smooth and merciless.
“The Thirstborn of the Crimson Syndicate—Lucian’s brood—seek your blood. With it, their cursed Thirst ripens, sweetens, and grows potent enough to heal, to bind, and to break ancient afflictions.”
He lifts another finger.
“The Flesh Peddlers of the Carnal Bazaar—my people—desire your lust magic. You ignite desire with every breath, every glance. Harnessed, you are a fountain of pleasure…and profit.”
Another finger.
“The Ossuary Circle—necromancers cloaked in death—covet your lifeblood, thick with power. With a Curvy Queen to drain, their spirits walk stronger, and their wraiths bite deeper.”
He leans back, savoring my wide-eyed horror.
“Shall I go on? The Savage Den, with their beasts and their shifting skins—they hunger for your heat. Your magic makes their transformations easier, less costly. You would stoke their feral rages.”
Another finger lifts, slow and deliberate.
“The Gilded Warrens of the Dragon Clan desire your fertility which translates to the ability to multiply gold and increase treasure. Curvy Queens birth strong half-blood heirs, children fat with magic who keep their decadent courts alive and the wealth flowing in.”
A last finger curls upward. (Yes he has more than five fingers on his hand.)
“As for the Briar Court—those Fae bastards want your endurance. A Curvy Queen can withstand more pain, more pleasure, more of their twisted rituals than any fragile slip of a girl. And of course, your magic will augment and increase their own. No glamour backed by the magic of an Abundant Queen can be pierced by mortal eyes.”
He lowers his hand, eyes gleaming.
