Page 39 of Cursed Shadows

“If we can’t get close enough to Variant to kill him, all our carefully-constructed plans and strategies will be for nothing. You know that.”

“We don’t need them,” he repeats.

“I believe we do.”

Leaving Cambion to his irritation, I return to the tent just as the others are leaving. Lamia shifts, pressing her ample breasts together, which causes my mouth to salivate as though I’m tempted by the promise of sweet confections.

“I can get you close to him,” she reminds me as she follows me back inside the tent. “Only you can defeat him, Shadow King.” I throw myself into my chair and watch her as she speaks. It’s now just the two of us. “Long before Variant rose to power, it wasyouwho struck fear into the hearts of my people,” she whispers, and she looks up at me in awe.

I roll my shoulders, my chest puffing out with pride. She’s correct, of course. Prior to Variant’s treachery, I was the most powerful of the four kings.

As her lips curl into an appreciative smile, Lamia’s eyes slither from my head to my feet, watching as my muscles flex and strain against the fabric of my shirt.

“And what would you like in return?” I demand as I stand and make my way to her, crowding her space until the aroma of her arousal thickens the air.

“Revenge,” she whispers. “Revenge for my people, for my daughters. Revenge for myself.”

I breathe her in like a rare fragrance, practically tasting her. Even so, as I lean forward to chase her teasing tongue, she presses her palm flat to my chest to hold me at bay. I cover her hand with my own and she slides her long, elegant fingers from beneath mine, tucking a folded piece of paper into my hand.

“Read it once I leave,” she says.

“What is it?” I demand, irritated that she’s delayed my gratification.

“It’s the location where I propose we meet to end this war before the battle begins,” she whispers. “I ask that you meet me there in one hour’s time so we may speak… uninterrupted,” she finishes with a small smile. I understand what she’s offering—herself. “With Variant’s fall, you shall rise again.”

I close my eyes to savor the feel of her warmth seeping into my body. She runs her delicate fingers down the side of my face and when I open my eyes, I find her retreating. A few secondslater, I’m alone. I walk to the entry of the tent and step outside, but there’s nothing and no one to see.

I glance down at the paper in my hand. Unfolding it, I see a crudely drawn map. The directions are easy enough to follow. I retrieve my armor with haste and escape the flickering light within my tent.

Summon Mist, I command.

Roiling fog hovers above my boots before shrouding me in a darkness that rivals even that of the grim night. Soundlessly, I venture closer to the location where Lamia awaits my arrival.

I will be the one to end Variant.

Hope flares in my heart, but it’s faint in comparison to the lust that coils in my veins.

The glory of battle shall be mine to claim... and the Queen of the Succubae with it.

***

Gnarled, twisting trees obscure Lamia from sight, but it’s her scent that leads me to her. She blinks her large eyes at me as I approach, and I note the path of her fingers as they trace the seam of her gown. Those tantalizing fingers pull one strap at a time off her shoulders until her milky white breasts are exposed to my hungry gaze.

The fabric falls from her body to pool at her feet. The view of her is enough to make a lesser man drop to his knees, but I’m no weakling. I let my helmet fall to the sodden earth as my eyes drink their fill of her lush curves.

She will come to me. Not the other way around.

After she walks the few steps that separate us, she assists me in peeling away my gear. I suck in a breath at the touch of her hand against my bare skin. Never before has a woman beguiled me so.

I step out of my boots and follow her descending form to the ground, cushioned by the pile of cloth we’ve discarded. The tight buds of her nipples beg for my mouth and I’m helpless to deny them.

Lamia’s back arches beneath me, hips bucking to rub her silken core against my abdomen. She sighs into the night and it sends tingles down my spine. I cover her abdomen with wet, open-mouthed kisses, trailing down her stomach. My tongue traces her navel before continuing down to the place where her nectar flows.

I spread her tender folds with skilled fingers as I blow cool air on her weeping flesh. Lamia runs her fingers through my hair, tugging slightly.

“Tell me what you want,” I instruct.

Her back bows and she attempts to grind her mound against my chin, but I force her hips to the ground. “Tell me what you want, or you get nothing,” I growl low in my chest.

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