“The day I choose you to carry my child, the implanted barbs will release my seed.” Leaning back, he forces a finger into my tightly squeezed entrance.
“Your efforts to keep me out are futile.” His finger presses deeper. “Tightening your cunt will only causeyoumore pain, andmefar more pleasure.”
His fingers exit both my mouth and my cunny, and he leaps to his feet.
“My husband will kill you!” I glare at him. “If you do this, he will burn you alive!”
Gabreal laughs. “Your faith in your dragon shifter is sweet, my dearest, but sorely misplaced.” His smirk returns, his face now devoid of any trace of its earlier charm. “Your husband and I struck a deal. He offered you as a sacrifice to appease me.”
I shake my head. Zogar would never do that.
Dread mushrooms inside me. Is it possible what Gabreal is saying is true? In our marriage vows, Zogar and I pledged to make sacrifices for each other. But he’s also vowed to do whatever it takes to bring balance back to the Darkness.
Am I the price he paid to succeed?
No. I refuse to believe it. I don’twantto believe it. Zogar is searching for this demon and… A new fear takes hold. What if Zogar is hurt? What if this demon, or his followers captured my husband—or worse?
Gabreal kneels again, this time between my widely spread legs. The women around us join hands, moving closer, chanting and singing with high pitched sounds that hurt my ears and amplify my fear.
Gabreal’s fingers test my entrance again. “Still squeezed so tight.” He shakes his head. “Foolish girl.”
One of the women steps forward, close enough that I can see her face under her hood.
I suck in a breath. It’s Eleanor. She was at the council meeting.
“Relax,” she says. “You have no idea what an honor it is to be chosen by our Lord.” She cups my cheek, and her hand is even colder than the expression in her eyes. “Don’t make this worse. Yield to our Lord and Master. If you display gratitude for his gift, he may grant you some pleasure along with the pain.” She leans closer. “And he might finish more quickly.”
For a brief second, I detect what almost looks like a hint of empathy in her eyes.
“Over time, you’ll get used to the pain from the barbs,” she says. “And we—his entire legion of wives—we will care for you as you heal. Being bound to Gabreal brings great privilege and standing in this city. You’ll never want for a thing, and someday, when you are chosen, you will bear him a child, exchanging your life for another far more powerful and worthy than you.”
Looking at her, I shake my head, trying to use my eyes to implore mercy.
The mage strokes my face again. “To be clear, when Gabreal’s child enters the world, those barbs will tear you apart. But it’s a small sacrifice to make for Gabreal.”
The demon’s fingers leave my sex, and I shudder as the hard end of his member replaces them, pressing against me. His head tips back, and he chants again in some strange tongue. Two tails appear behind him, barbed and flicking from side to side. Shifting forward, the tails wrap around my bound knees to spread me even wider.
I scream, hoping someone, anyone, will hear. Surely one of these mages will take pity.
Eleanor turns my face toward her. “Your screams are but fuel for our Lord. They’ll prolong his pleasure and your agony. And should he tire of hearing them, his tails will fill your throat and steal your voice forever.”
The long tails leave my legs and flick forward.
I close my eyes, squeezing every part of my body and bracing for pain.
The air rushes around us. A strong wind stirs the dust and gravel on the bare rooftop. This must be part of his magic.
The rushing wind continues to pulse, and I squint open my eyes.
Zogar. He’s come.
Zogar’s talons scrape the graveled rooftop, and the mages scatter. A long stream of fire heats the wind, and I shut my eyes against the intense brightness.
“You think you can stop me, dragon?” Gabreal says. “You’re too late. The incantations are complete. Your small human is mine now.”
I force my eyes open. Gabreal’s standing between my legs, facing away from me, and his tails flick side to side. On some passes, their sharp, barbed ends slice shallow cuts in my flesh. I try to flatten myself to escape, but it’s futile.
Zogar roars. Another stream of fire erupts, this time just to the right of the table, and the marble beneath me heats.
