Page 59 of Demonchild

“Lie down,” he said. “I want to have you.”

Malissa went cold.

“There’s no need for that,” she said. “I’m already pregnant.”

Wulfgang grinned.

“Come now, is that any way for a wife to welcome her husband after his triumphant return? I’ve missed your company these past months, and the sight of your fertile body has me excited.”

“But—”

“I said,lie down!”

He shoved her hard, and she fell back onto the bed.

“Be careful!” she cried. “The baby!”

Wulfgang was already on top of her, trapping her beneath him. His body was light, but his muscles had a wiry strength.

“The baby is fine,” he said. “He’s strong, just like his father. Don’t worry, my lovely Elora. I will breed you gently. Now lie still.”

“What about your wound?” Malissa said. “I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Only a scratch, my dear. As you can see, it has done nothing to diminish my ardor for you.”

He settled himself between her thighs, and indeed, she could feel the stiffness of his arousal pressing against her bare sex. A sick feeling took hold of her stomach and twisted. He brought his face very close to hers, and she thought he was going to kiss her, but instead he whispered to her, assaulting her senses with his foul breath.

“Do you want to know a little secret?” he said, giggling. “There never was any wound. That was only a ruse. As soon as I saw the demon who serves the queen of Galadon, I knew our army would never stand a chance against that fell beast. But here within the walls of Drachenval, I will be safe… and so will my child.”

He’s not yours!Malissa wanted to scream.

But she held her tongue.

Wulfgang shifted his weight off of her and started to remove his clothes.

Now’s my chance, Malissa thought.

Her eyes went to the candelabra on the bedside table. It was made of pewter, heavy enough to serve as a bludgeon… and it was within reach.

But she hesitated.

What if it didn’t work? What if she failed to knock the king unconscious? Worse, what if she did? She wouldn’t be able to let him live after that. She would have to beat him to death, and she wasn’t sure she could do that. There were too many ways for it to go wrong. Too many ways her child might get hurt. Too many ways her escape could be foiled. She turned her face away from the candelabra and shut her eyes.

She would just have to endure it. She had done it before, she could do it again. She would do it for her child’s sake.

One last time, then she would be free forever.

There was a rustle of fabric as Wulfgang pulled down his breeches and hose, then a soft curse. Malissa assumed that, in his drunkenness, the man was having difficulty removing his clothes. Then he cursed a second time, and she looked.

The stiffness she had felt earlier had not been the king’s arousal. It had been his codpiece, which was now shoved down around his withered thighs, along with his silken breeches and colorful hosiery. His actual manhood, if one could even call it such, dangled between his legs, soft and limp as a dead worm. It was a repulsive sight, but it filled Malissa’s heart with joy.

“Too much damned wine,” the king grumbled.

He reached down and jiggled his flaccid member, but to no avail. It would not be waking up any time soon.

“Too much…”

He slumped facedown on the mattress next to Malissa and began to snore. She watched him for a moment, just to make sure he was really asleep, then she carefully rolled away from him and climbed down from the bed.

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