Page 78 of Princess Claimed

I lose all sense of who’s doing what. All I know is that my body is theirs, I belong to these men and could survive on nothing but this intense pleasure for the rest of my very long life.

Chapter

Thirty

Flame

I’m bored out of my fucking mind. Hours and hours and hours have passed since we came into this library. At least that’s how long it feels.

Jane left us a few hours ago—taking away my only chance at conversation—first making me swear on a wooden stake that I wouldn’t light any more matches. Meanwhile, Blade’s nose has been buried non-stop in books, as he leafs through dozens upon dozens of old, leather-bound volumes. He’s scanning them so quickly it’s a wonder he retains a word.

I do admire Blade’s ability to speed read, not to mention in multiple languages, but right now I’m simply impatient for him to be done. Sunset’s arriving in less than an hour, and there’s no chance I’m spending another night away from Ana. If he wants to stay until sunrise, I might kill him.

I’ll ditch Blade here if I have to. Fuck Crusher’s rules.

I pick up a book from one of the stacks Jane brought him. I’m pretty sure this is the pile she said might contain information about the dagger, and I’m shocked that Blade hasn’t tackled this stack yet. His interest in all things sharp and pointy is barely surpassed by his interest in books, but clearly finding the right kind of demon is his main focus at the moment.

I flip through the book on the top. So boring.

I open the second. This one at least has pictures—well, sketches—but they hold my interest better than words.

Page after page, I leaf through the book. A few illustrations include color ink, showing the placement of gems on the handles, or hints of blood on the blades, which is cool, so I linger longer on those, admiring the work of the artists who drew them.

Fanning the entire book’s pages at once, one weapon catches my eye.

My heart stops, and I flip through the pages more slowly, trying to find it again.

When I do, I almost grab Blade’s attention, but I don’t want to delay our departure for a single second. I am capable of reading, even if it’s boring.

I study the diagram more closely, comparing it to the photo of the dagger that’s on my phone. The details are insanely similar: the horned demon face at the hilt, its eyes filled with tiny rubies; the incomprehensible lettering on the blade itself.

Blade said he has no idea what language is inscribed on the dagger, never mind what it says, but all of it matches perfectly to this one in the book.

I’m no speed reader, but I skim the description as quickly as I can.

“Holy fuck!”

Blade turns toward me, eyes bleary from too much reading. “What is it?” He blinks to refocus on me.

I point to the page. “This dagger. I think it’s the one. The book says certain demons have the ability to use it to mark their victims, then track the ones they stabbed, as long as the tip penetrated their liver.” My body freezes. “Where was Phil wounded?”

Blade grabs the book and studies it himself. “Fuck.” He pushes back his chair. “I think I’ve learned all I can here. Let’s get back to the others ASAP.”

Chapter

Thirty-One

Ana

Every day with these men has brought more joy than my last. Every hour has. Every minute.

Each time I’m certain I’ve reached my capacity for pleasure, for joy, one of them proves me wrong, lifting me higher.

After that intense sex with Crusher, we left the club to return to their living quarters here in New York, and now I’m lying on my back, Crusher stretched out on one side of me, Phil on the other. Deep in a sex fog, I have no idea what time it is, or how many hours have passed since we left their aptly named club called Delirium.

The only thing I do know about time, is that whenever we’ve been awake, one of these men has been inside me near constantly, and in the afterglow of this current break, my body is thrumming in utterly satisfied delight.

Next to me, Crusher’s lying on his belly, and without lifting his head, his hand slides onto my thigh, stroking me, gently, without any overt demands implied in his touch. Another rush of happiness floods through me.

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