Page 68 of A Surrender Of Hope

“Is that a normal thing? Do Demons bite when mating? Do I need to bite you?” I ask, slightly confused. I lick my teeth, frowning when I feel how flat they are. If I had to bite him, it would probably hurt.

“No. Your magic does that. Versipellis Demons bite, and Dream Walkers tie their mates to them with their magic. Which is why you didn't need to bite Nox,” he says, and I nod.

“So… Nox bit me?” I ask, not sure why I feel slightly disappointed by missing that.

“Mhmm. Right here.” His big, warm fingers move my wet hair from the back of my neck, trailing down the sensitive skin there and causing an odd feeling of lust to ignite deep inside me when he presses against my skin.

“No shit!? Is there a mark there or something?”

“A scar,” Creed confirms, and I scowl, wishing I had a way to look at it.

“Why didn’t Nox tell me he had bitten me?” I wonder out loud, and Creed groans as he shifts us, moving to lay on his back and tugging me on top of him, my hips pressed to his to keep his cock and cum deep inside me.

“Probably because he didn't know how you would react. You didn't get a say in this, so he was trying to ease you into it. Though you two have been strangely nice to each other recently. So odds are he totally forgot to mention it with everything going on,” Creed muses, his hips thrusting up in slow, lazy circles, moving his length deep inside me, my eyes fluttering shut at the sensation.

“Hmm, that’s nice,” I admit, relaxing into his hold, letting him fuck me slowly while being held close.

“So nice,” he agrees, voice gravelly in my ear as his hands move all over my body, touching me everywhere he can reach. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

THIRTY-TWO

Razar

“That was not Archer!” Mom hisses at Father as he paces the dais in the throne room, his enormous black wings flexing behind him and his curled horns sparking with black magic. Nox leans on Father’s throne, watching Mom lose her mind over her encounter with our formerly “dead” brother. “Is he dead?” Nox asks, and Father shakes his head, sending a burst of pained relief through me, which only furthers my self-hatred. On the one hand, I want to kill Archer myself. He almost took my Pup from me, and he’s betraying our family and everything we stand for. But on the other… It's my brother, the boy I have had with me all my life. The one person who always loved me no matter what I said or did.

“And no one will do a thing to change that!” Mom snarls.

“Viv,” Father growls in warning, and she snarls at him, gold magic sparking in the air like tiny fireworks as she strides up to him, standing in the middle of his path and forcing him to stop moving.

“No! That was not my son! I saw his eyes. I felt that magic… the cold look on his face! That was not Archer!” she practicallyscreams, tears streaming down her cheeks, making me cringe and step back at the burst of emotions and stress that courses from her in waves. Shoving the pain I feel down, I swallow hard and try to tune out their words, my Beastia prowling inside me, wanting to be set free to take our own revenge and hunt my traitorous brother down.

Before Father can say anything else, the doors to the throne room burst open, causing him to release a threatening growl as he turns on whoever is stupid enough to appear before him without approval. A growl breaks between my lips as I watch several of my father's Lords stride into the throne room, all dressed in fine clothes and looking far too clean for men who were supposed to be out protecting our Kingdom.

“My King!” Lord Arawn shouts, his shiny black boots thumping on the ground as he strides toward us, a group of five other Lords at his back. “What is this rumor of your son? And the Wraiths breaking into the castle? My wives and children were here and could have been hurt!” he snarls, his tone demanding, eyes accusing as he comes to a stop a few feet away from my father's dais.

I can’t help but lean forward, excitement rushing through me when I see my father's eyes flash at the blatant disrespect shown to him in front of the other Lords. Nox chuckles, and his claws grow as Father gently tugs Mom to stand behind him. He then turns on the snobbish Demon Lord before him, wings slowly extending to their full size, making Nox’s look tiny in comparison as he slowly descends the stairs.

Magic curls around the room, growing until it stifles every corner, and even I have to step back in an attempt to not bow my head and submit. “Orcus,” I hear Mom warn, following closely behind him as he stalks toward the stupid man. Lord Arawn holds my father's gaze, his hands fisting at his sides, and I grin. I can't decide if his blatant idiocy is entertaining or pathetic. Noone, not even Nox, could go head-to-head with Father, not in his regular form and definitely not in his shifted one. Yet this pathetic sniveling Lord thinks he can talk to my Father like that in his own castle?

Nox stands to his full height, moving to the top of the steps. He keeps a protective eye on Mom as she stands at Father's side, glaring at the Lords standing before them. I watch as most of the Lords, who strode in here like they had the fucking right to an audience, cower before their King's dark magic, most of them lowering their heads, one even bowing and stepping away from Lord Arawn as if to show he doesn't support the man.

Sound comes from the doors left open at the Lords’ entrance, and I watch as Jesthren, covered in black blood, strides into the room, his brow furrowing when he senses Father's magic out in full force.

“Lord Arawn,” Mom snaps, crossing her arms over her chest and glowering at the man as Father's magic swirls around her, lifting a lock of her brown hair as it gently caresses her cheek. “Is there a reason for this sudden display of disrespect?”

“I…” Lord Arawn pauses, shifting his glare from Father to Mother, looking confused about whom he should be speaking to.

“Do. Not. Look. At. Her,” Father rasps, his deep voice almost unrecognizable, making Lord Arawn step back, his legs quivering at the amount of magic Father uses.

“And why not? My family was here! Your son—” A blade appears at Lord Arawn’s throat, his mouth falling open like a gaping fish as Jesthren sneers down at him. Fury alights in his dark eyes as he leans down, bringing his lips to the man's ear and whispering something I can't quite make out. But from the way the Lord's eyes practically bug out of his head, I know it must have been some kind of entertaining threat. I’ll have to ask him what he said after these simpering fools leave.

“Was never in the castle!” Father roars back, making Arawn stumble away from Jesthren, who glowers at him like the piece of shit he is. I scoff and lose interest in the man as he finally looks at his feet. Looking around the room, I grab my favorite blade, flipping it in my hand as I study the guards, wondering which one told the Lords about Archer's appearance. It isn't a surprise that our secret is now public knowledge; there is no way to silence all the guards who bore witness to Archer's surprise resurrection and betrayal, but I wasn’t expecting it to be this fast.

“But the Wraiths?” Lord Arawn rasps. Father steps even closer to the Lord and tears a terrified squeak from the man as he crumples to his knees and bows his head.

“Infiltrated the caverns and broke the spells placed there by the founding King. They gained access to the castle and immediately went to the roof, seeking out the Queen and Princess! Your family was and has always been safe, no thanks to you,” Father sneers, rolling his eyes at the cowering Lord before looking up at the men still standing there.

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