With a snarl, he broke from her lips and set his teeth. Marking his queen, Shade bred a female who belonged to a prince who’d died to save him. A queen owned by the king who’d taken everything Shade might have loved.
A female who belonged to him now, too.
A new claim shoved aside the other two, and Renegade whined as she was marked. Exquisite anguish bled through him into her, a cooling wave that brought sanity and salvation, for in an instant that rippled through her soul, all her scattered pieces were knit back together. Made whole.
Teeth locked in place, he shuddered into his queen. Sending jet after jet of seed spilled too late to claim the life ripening in her womb, he pumped her full and sealed her tight.
She sobbed, for with a lovely coo, he took half her burden into his own heart. Tattooed fingers slipped up, over the nub of her budding tail. Tracing her spine, her shoulders, the back of her neck and into her hair, he guided her lips to the spot left clear of ink.
Where she’d always meant to put her mark.
“I claim you, Shade of the Feral Court,” she said, lips moving against the warmth of his skin. Drowsy and languid in the aftermath of so violent and tender a breeding. And then, simply, “Mine, bound until death.”
And then she gave him the night.
22
Clenching his fist just to feel his claws extend, Sin scowled. Furious and impressed all at once, for the clever, glorious little bitch was using the Sight against them.
They’d tracked her deep into the wood to a clearing darkened by a dense canopy high above. One with the grass cropped short by dozens of grazers, piles of dung… and a corpse that hadn’t been picked clean.
The meat, still mostly intact, was turning rancid in the muggy heat, despite the rain threatening to burst from dark clouds.
It wasn’t a good omen.
“No scavengers?” Sin murmured, his every available sense primed to defend or attack.
To this, Giaus’ only response was a brief flare of his mane. An acknowledgement that didn’t distract, for the king was fixated on the puzzle before him, still sifting through the scents littering the clearing.
And itwasa puzzle.
All through the clearing and the trees, Renegade had left spinning trails of gold that shimmered on the wind. Running circles, leaving golden finger prints of her delectable scent scattered through the wood, she’d all but obliterated their Sight. Overwhelming them with a trail they couldn’t help but follow—even if it led in hopeless circles.
Because she was toying with them. Playing games, when she should be back in their den. Hidden away from the truth Giaus had only just revealed.
Jaw flexing, Sin worked to contain his temper. Banished the Sight, and left the king to it. Knowing the other to be more experienced in enduring these wilds, that between them, Giaus was the better tracker.
Sin’s talents lay elsewhere. In strategic planning. For war—or the capture of one wayward, infuriating mate who didn’t know the truth.
She’d run an incredible distance from the Queen’s Landing, given her tiny stature and extra precious burden she carried. It spoke of just how significant her head start had been. Proportional to how much energy he and Giaus had spent to run her down, sprinting through what remained of the night and into the morning.
It was an advantage she’d taken full advantage of, despite the risk or the consequences. That she’d had some kind of interaction with Balkazar,survived, and then continued on her merry fucking way?
“I’m thinking chains,” Sin hissed, and kicked the corpse that still had give. Not yet in rigor mortis, the joints still mobile enough to flop when he nudged it with the edge of his boot. “Thick ones. Really,reallyheavy with a leash no longer than the length of the nest. See if she runs again.”
But then, the blame wasn’t entirely on her narrow shoulders, was it? She’d survived the wilds before. Evaded pack and horde and predators alike for longer than should have been possible for a mere harem slave.
No, the fault was shared with the king. Giaus, who’d known what horrors thrived in the wilds and had kept his secrets.
Mane bristling, Sin shivered and shot a vicious glare at the king. Irate, for Giaus had only revealed the bitter truth of their bloodline because Balkazar—of all the vile creatures—had forced it out of him.
Only then, did he name what lurked out in the wild.
A demon, apparently. One even the Nine had cause to fear.
ThePrimus.
What had once been some nameless Anhur from ancient times long past, now sat in the heart of the horde. It was the brain of the Legion. The bottomless stomach. Ageless, a colossus had grown impossibly large through countless seasons of vicious cannibalism.
