Wicked Abyss Read online

  A dense wave of fire vines did in fact crisscross the tower's exterior. She'd have no chance of avoiding them if she climbed down.

  Even if she could reach the ground, the "legions" below would seize her. There must be thousands of demons gathered. If she somehow outran them, she'd be hemmed in by that lava river. The heat didn't seem to bother all those shirtless warriors, but she would be burned alive.

  Lava rapids? She truly was in hell.

  Nix, you bitch. Why would she have betrayed Lila? Only Saetth had incentive.

  Lila was the next in line for the throne, and her parents hadn't been the only ones grumbling about his inability to protect the royal house from the Morior. Lila's cousins might mount a coup, especially now that he'd lost the sword.

  But she couldn't believe he'd send her to hell just to be rid of her. If he'd felt threatened, he would simply keep her exiled or kill her.

  The Valkyrie must have duped him as well.

  Lila shivered in her damp underwear. Night grew chilly in hell? Her captor hadn't provided blankets or dry clothes. No food. Only orders.

  For all her bluster, Lila was about to have . . . doubts.

  What "wrongs" did the demon think she'd committed? If Abyssian came in the night as her reaper, would he behead her the way Saetth had her parents? One clean swipe? Maybe she'd go to sleep and never wake up.

  Lila would fight to get free, but right now she needed to focus on her immediate task. She did fear spiders--didn't most people?--but more than that she feared a challenge stumping her. It'd be a first.

  Her life motto was FITFO. Because as far as a problem went, she always figured it the fuck out.

  She gazed up at the sky, trying to determine how long till sunrise. The lengths of days and nights varied from world to world, and she'd read that hell's stretched longer than most. But if dawn arrived sooner than she expected--

  A gust of ash-laden wind rushed over her. As she hurried inside, she went into another coughing fit, brushing against a fire vine. Damn it!

  Eyes watering, she crossed to the wheel that he'd conjured with a wave of his hand. Having been away from the Lore for so long, she wasn't used to real displays of magic.

  Was spinning a cobweb even possible? It sounded so fairy tale-esque. But then, she was a fairy princess.

  She sat and replayed the earlier demonstration. Tamping the floor pedal would make the wheel spin. A measure of thread had already been started. Apparently, she was to attach sections of thick cobweb to the end of that length, pulling it straight as the wheel dragged it in.

  She hesitated to touch the pile of cobwebs. But she had to, else meet the web's spinners.

  When she reached for the webbing, it stuck to her fingers. "Ugh!" With clumsy movements, she began to work, coughing all the while.

  A couple of false starts slowed her down, but she learned from her mistakes and found a rhythm. The tensile thread was surprisingly strong.

  Her monotonous task gave her too much time to think. Sooner or later the demon would discover her real identity, and without warm and fuzzy feelings toward his mate, he'd turn her over to the Morior archer for assassination--if Abyssian didn't do it himself.

  Rumor held that Rune Darklight, A.K.A. Rune the Baneblood, had once been a slave in the broiling fens of Sylvan, horribly abused by the ruler during his time: Queen Magh, who was both Saetth's mother and an ancestress of Lila.

  Rune had sworn to stamp out Magh's entire line. Which meant Lila as well. If she didn't escape this place before she was found out . . .

  I now have a deadline, emphasis on dead.

  She recalled the grueling tension at court whenever the archer assassinated another royal. With each execution, the noose tightened, the odds of survival growing slimmer. For months after, everyone would appear haunted and hollow-eyed.

  She'd been too young to grasp all the ramifications, but she'd known one thing for certain: The bogeyman is real. . . .

  In her lifetime, Rune had murdered four of her cousins, all of them caught outside the fortified safety of Sylvan Castle, all of them despicable.

  But I'm not.

  The tips of her pointed ears began to twitch. Foot paused on the pedal, she rubbed the back of her neck and gazed around the dim area.

  She heard the scurrying of . . . things in every dark place, but she never caught sight of them. Probably for the best.

  Yet she was certain she was being watched.

  TEN

  Reclining on the bed in his lavish chambers, Sian held a looking-glass--not to see his own reflection, never his own--but to spy on Kari. In hell, he could use mirrors to view any scene in the present.

  He'd observed her as she'd first investigated her surroundings. She'd appeared to be freezing in her flimsy lingerie.

  And Sian cared not at all.

  She'd crossed to the balcony and surveyed his lands, her eyes growing stark at the sight.

  He didn't care.

  Ashy wind had gusted into the tower; as she coughed, she'd brushed up against another fire vine.

  But he could not care less.

  When she'd sat at the wheel, she'd looked shell-shocked. Good.

  Though his instincts screamed at him to protect her, warm her, clothe and feed her, he refused. He'd once followed his instincts with her, and look where that had left him.

  With the help of his hell-change aggression, he buried those impulses deep, deeper--until a filter seemed to cover his gaze, red from his hatred.

  Crimson haze in place, he didn't even see her as his mate. She was simply a desirable prisoner.

  Once she'd spun all of the webbing he'd provided, she rose and warily approached another large cobweb. Dark gods, that body. Her curves were graceful, her form proportionately flawless.

  Her long, light-brown hair had dried into loose, shining curls. The dainty points of her ears poked out through the heavy fall of those tresses.

  He still couldn't believe Kari was here in his keeping. Under his control. He wondered yet again if he was dreaming.

  Considering Nix's involvement, he'd likely pay for this pleasure.

  His prisoner reached for the webbing. When it stuck to her hands and wrapped around her arms, she gave a cry, and the tips of her ears flattened against her head.

  He'd once been fascinated by her ears, had never seen anything like them. The tips had twitched whenever she'd been unsettled and had flattened on the few occasions she'd been anxious--such as when he'd been about to kiss her for the first and only time.

  That kiss. Her sweet lips had slain him, and he was still trying to recover.

  Kari returned to her wheel and resumed spinning, her movements hypnotic. As he stared, his thoughts spun as well, tumbling back millennia. . . .

  Sian swept Kari around the ballroom during yet another tedious function. He had to fight not to clasp her close to his body.

  Could her hands be any softer? Her scent any more alluring?

  He might have questioned why a large hell demon like himself would be paired with such an airily delicate mate--if her body didn't heat his blood like nothing else.

  Since he'd laid eyes on Kari, his adolescent desires had only ratcheted up. He'd experienced the most powerful culmination of his life--with her stolen silk shift around his member.

  Yet he craved her not only for physical reasons. His female's mind was a mystery greater than any of the ones in the magical realm of hell.

  If only he could read her thoughts! Right now, her mind seemed a million leagues away. She danced with him, but she wasn't looking at him.

  "What are you contemplating, Kari?" he asked, knowing she'd never tell him. He hated it when her gaze grew distant. Though every one of his thoughts revolved around her, she lived in a world kept separate from him.

  "This and that," she murmured.

  She was leading him to insanity! At times she encouraged him to woo her, only to turn around and snicker at him behind her fan with her toadying friends.

  But whenever he d
oubted her feelings, she would tease him or allow him some new liberty, such as pressing a kiss to her wrist or holding her closer while dancing.

  "Will you confide your musings to me, princess?"

  Finally she gazed up at him. "You're soon to leave us."

  Not without you. If he could teleport in this realm, he would be tempted to steal her. "Does the idea of us parting aggrieve you whatsoever?"

  She shrugged.

  Shrugged! He inhaled for calm. Sian had only so long before he was dispatched back to hell--and before she was wed. The king of the Draiksulian elves pursued her hand ardently.

  Sian scowled in the male's direction. The king was tall and fair-haired, an ideal elven specimen. Sometimes Kari gazed at him as if she were infatuated.

  Sian scarcely prevented himself from baring his fangs at the male. But Kari grew appalled at his every loss of control, deeming these displays "savagery." She'd once told him, "You're as unthinking as a red-eyed vampire."

  "Demon, your grip."

  His hands had tightened on her. Easy, Sian. She was a fragile elf, and still vulnerable to harm. "Pardon me."

  He'd been racking his mind for a way to win her affections. He'd never told her she was his mate--she'd taken his explanation of demon matehood . . . poorly--but perhaps 'twas time to confess all?

  Or mayhap he should try seduction? As a handsome prince of hell, he had scant experience coaxing a female to bed--he'd always been plagued with females pursuing him--but how difficult could it be?

  Kari would become fully immortal soon and must be needing a male's touch to see her through this time of transition. After he claimed her and they shared that pleasure, she would never doubt they were fated to be together.

  He told her, "I myself would be deeply aggrieved if we were parted. Which is why you're coming with me to Pandemonia."

  She sighed. "Oh, am I?"

  He drew her closer. "You will be mine, Kari. For all time. I will never be separated from you."

  She rolled her eyes. "You are infatuated with me, young demon. It will pass once you return home and surround yourself with fawning demonesses."

  "What I feel for you is no mere infatuation."

  With a challenge in her gaze, she demanded, "What aside from my looks draws you?"

  "You are the cleverest female--nay, the cleverest being I have ever known. You can't be bothered to read or study, but you make fools of all the elven courtiers who live by their considerable wits. You are merry whenever you allow yourself to let down your guard with me." She loved hearing about Pandemonian legends of old, would grow relaxed as he spun tales. "And you are fiercely protective of those you love." Her snobbish family. "If I could but earn that fierce love for myself."

  Casting him a soft look that made his heart punch his chest, she murmured, "You are the first male ever to answer that question adequately." Yet then she tensed once more, and her tone turned flippant. "Clearly we are meant to be together."

  Was she jesting? "Why do you play games with me, little female?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "You burn hot and cold."

  He thought he spied a flicker of something like . . . scheming in her dual-colored eyes. Gone so quickly. "I burn hot, my darling, then realize you do not return the tender regard I feel for you."

  "I am mad for you!"

  Her gaze darted at his outburst. Dancers nearby glared at him.

  He glanced over her shoulder. Her parents looked on with distaste, as usual.

  In a lower tone, he asked, "Can you truly not know of my feelings?" He hadn't bothered hiding them. He'd sneaked into her room to leave her gifts, and he'd danced with her at all of these ridiculous balls she adored. He'd even written bloody poems to her!

  "Then why do you not trust me?" She sounded sad. "You tell me tales of old about Pandemonia, but never anything about your kind. You want to take me to your dimension, but how can I go there to be with you when you refuse to reveal details about it?" She gazed away, tears welling.

  He had not thought of these things! Of course she would be nervous about living in a new world.

  Out of loyalty to his kind, he'd withheld information. But if he could win this female, she would become his kind.

  The dance ended. "I will tell you anything you want to know, Kari." He curled his finger under her chin, lifting her face. "Anything at all." Yes, Sian had been racking his mind for a way to win her affections; he decided on seduction. "For a kiss."

  Her eyes widened. "You are overbold, demon."

  "Steal away with me, and give me a single kiss."

  She worried her bottom lip, then whispered, "When the clock tower strikes three, meet me beside the lake."

  Anticipation made him nigh light-headed. Somehow he forced himself to release her. "With pleasure."

  Millennia later, Sian watched her spinning, seeming lost in thought herself.

  He conjured her silk shift, bringing it to his face. As he inhaled her scent, his member shot hard as stone.

  He considered calling for one of his royal concubines, but he couldn't drag his gaze from the mirror.

  Over all these long ages, he'd known countless females, purging himself of his need for his mate. But he had always wondered what his fated female would look like unclothed, trembling beneath him--

  She tugged up her bra again, which pulled the material taut over her pert breasts and stiffened nipples.

  He growled in response. How many times had he imagined what shade those peaks would be? And if she'd moan to have them sucked?

  How many times had he come, teeth gritted with frustration because he was squeezing his cock instead of kneading those mounds of creamy flesh?

  Frustration now; frustration then. Wondering if he'd ever be free of it, he recalled their meeting by the lake. . . .

  Arriving an hour early, he'd paced the water's edge as he awaited her.

  The little witch had danced the rest of the ball with that king. As the pair had glided over the dancefloor, everyone murmured about how perfect they looked together. Kari had gazed up at the male with a besotted expression.

  Sian's fists had clenched until he'd realized her game. She was meeting him, which meant she wanted him, which meant she was only trying to make her demon jealous.

  It was working!

  He stilled when he scented her approaching down the woodland path to the water.

  She wore a dark cloak, drawing back the hood as she neared. "I cannot believe I agreed to meet you."

  Flashing a cocky grin, he wasted no time closing in on her. "Perhaps I am not the only one keen for a kiss."

  She took a step back. "I want you to tell me of your kind, and then I shall kiss you."

  He stalked closer, backing her up against a tree. "A kiss should always come first." His shaft was already hardening.

  She craned her head up. "What are you doing, Abyssian? Stop being silly." With her spellbinding eyes locked on his mouth, she wetted her full lips.

  Her gaze rose to his horns. Smooth and black, they curved back from his temples. He was proud of them. A demon's horns were used for fighting--but they also brought sexual pleasure. She would learn to love them, to caress the sensitive lengths for him.

  When they straightened even more as she stared, her ears flattened against her head. Anxious? Did she find his most demonic feature distasteful?

  No, she couldn't. Fate would never have paired them. He cupped her face. "Princess, you are my mate."

  Sian unlaced his pants and freed his cock. In his hell-change, the flesh had become pierced as if he were a demon of old--yet another part of himself rendered unfamiliar.

  He dismissed the idea of a concubine, wanting nothing to distract him from this memory, one he'd replayed infinite times. With his mate near, his recollection was even more vivid. . . .

  "Yours? You do not mean . . ."

  "You are the only one I will love, the only one who can rid me of my demon seal, so I can give you younglings." He grasp
ed her arms, drawing her closer. Her trembling body yielded to his so sweetly, her soft breasts pressing against him. "Kari," he rasped. "I plead: let me take your lips, as I've dreamed about."

  Those lips parted in surprise.

  Sian desired her no less now than he did then: desperately. He wrapped her shift around his member, and all of a sudden he was sixteen again, his body stricken with lust for her. Would this craving never end?

  His breaths were ragged. Moisture beaded the head of his cock, the closest he'd ever gotten to producing seed. Oh, yes, she is mine.

  Though he wasn't physiologically able to ejaculate, he knew he was about to orgasm harder than he had since his time in Sylvan, when he would come with her scent fresh in his mind. . . .

  Savoring the feel of her against him, he said, "Fate gave you to me." As he gazed down at her heartbreakingly lovely face, his chest tightened. He felt connected to her--as if he'd been awaiting her from his first breath. Nothing else mattered but her. "I know you want me too." He leaned down, and his mouth covered hers.

  She parted her lips for him! When their tongues touched, pinpoints of light exploded behind his lids. Her kiss was like a lightning strike combined with a wave crashing over him.

  Electrifying, sending him off balance.

  Or righting his balance for the very first time.

  He groaned with bliss. This is the way of it. Of matehood. He finally understood.

  Sian didn't cherish her because he desired her; he desired her because he cherished her.

  When he deepened their soul-shattering kiss, she gasped against his lips. Her innocent surprise would have stolen his heart had he not already given it to her.

  At the memory, Sian began to culminate. His heels dug into the mattress, his fist flying up and down his shaft. His wings contracted, then flared.

  His lungs emptied on a bellow, so loud his tower rocked. The mirror cracked. Volcanoes all over his lands erupted with each pulse of his cock as the pleasure went on and on. . . .

  With a last shudder of his wings, he sprawled across the bed, catching his breath. Tension melted from him. He felt like he floated, like he'd been drugged.

  He'd just come harder than he had as an adult male.

  Now that his lusts had been slaked, his hatred returned. Their one kiss had lasted only a brief time because she'd drawn back to tell him, "The Draiksulian king trusts me; perhaps I should save my kisses for him."