Page 30 of Pain

“Right.” She glanced at Maxar and Drak. “They’ve told me that.”

“It would help, but it’s not necessary.” Mr. Jol’s expressions were mostlyunreadable. So far, he’d been kind, but aloof, with us. It was impossible for me not to have my suspicions about him, despite what my father said.

“So you’ll help us?” I asked, shifting her in my lap a little so she wasn’t squishing my cock and balls.

Mr. Jol’s face remained steeled. He focused on Omaera. “I’m very sorry about your father. I can’t say that I agreed with all of his policies, but … there was peace under his reign. He was a good king.” His expression turned stormy. “And Lerris … well, that diseased pup should have been put down centuries ago. We all feared what the Realm would be like if ever Donovar died and Lerris took his place. And the uncertaintysincehis death has left us all in various states of panic. Many have fled Earth and taken up residence in Hell, worried there could be another war between the species.” He narrowed his gaze slightly. “I take it most of our realm does not know of your existence?”

“That’s what we assume,” Drak said coldly. “King Howar, Queen Anysa, and King Ryden know, but we’ve kept Omaera’s existence and her ascension to the throne quiet out of fear of the overall reaction. Lerris knows, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Mr. Jol echoed. His head tilted a little, reminding me of a curious old dog. Not that the man really looked like an old man since we all stopped aging when we hit about forty, but the gray in his hair, the lines on his face, and the exhaustion in his eyes gave him a more weathered and aged appearance.

“M-my father’s powers transferred to me. So Lerris can’t claim it,” Omaera said. “At least not legitimately.” She met my eyes, then glanced over at Drak and Maxar. “Not sure why he’s not doing it anyway, just to set the foundation in everyone’s mind. Rally more to his cause.”

“Because there are a lot like myself who hate him, and he fears the response if he doesn’t have the magic—and the power of the sword—behind him to rule with force,” Mr. Jol said nodding his head at Moloch’s Sacrifice.

Omaera nodded. “That makes sense.”

The old demon still hadn’t answered my question. Was he going to help us?

“You remind me a lot of your father,” Mr. Jol said, not smiling with his mouth, but allowing his eyes to crease and crinkle slightly to display somewarmth. “He was calm and kind, and I can see that in you as well.”

“Thank you,” Omaera whispered. “I wish I had the chance to meet him. To meet of both my parents. If I have to be Queen … I want to be a queen he would be proud of. That the whole demon kingdom, that the whole realm, is proud of.”

Mr. Jol sucked in a deep breath through his nose. “You’ve got a tough road ahead of you there, Your Majesty. Demons—well, all the species—may not take too kindly to a half-human ruler.”

“We’re aware of that,” Maxar said. “But they’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Expect to be challenged for the throne,” Mr. Jol said.

Omaera glanced quickly at all of us again, but then settled her gaze on me. “That can happen?”

I nodded. “Rarely. But it does. Typically, the path of the monarchy follows down the bloodline, but the reason for that is because that bloodline is strong. With strong heirs. However, at any point in time, someone else can put forth an official challenge. A polar bear challenged my father about a century ago and was defeated. Nobody has stepped forward since.”

“And demons have remained in power because we are the strongest,” Mr. Jol said, which prompted the vampire, mage, and myself to stir and make some grumbles. All the old demon did was lift his brow at each of us just enough to shut us up. “Lerris could challenge you. Hell, a dragon-shifter, or vampire, could challenge you. So you need to be prepared.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” Omaera said. “I need to learn how to control my powers, but so far, we haven’t met a demon we could trust.” She blinked her bright-green eyes at him. “I’m hoping our search has ended?”

Mr. Jol shifted on his barstool, swirled his drink around in his glass, then took a sip. We all waited with bated breath. “Never seen a demon conjure a ball of energy like that. You sure you didn’t mate the mage?” He shook his head. “I mean, I know you haven’t. I’d smell it. But that’s not demon magic. That’s something else.”

“I … I didn’t know that,” Omaera said, glancing over at Maxar. “It just … it came to me instinctively. I created it in my mind like Raewyn told me to, and before I knew it, I was pushing that ball into my hands. It was the first time it’s happened though. The last two times there was a thunderclap, there was no energy ball—not a tangible one anyway. And I wasn’t able to target it like I did in the tavern. My energy was more like a sonic boom and hit everyone around me.”

Mr. Jol’s dark brow lifted slightly. “Your powers are evolving quickly.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not necessarily. But it does mean we can’t predict for certain just how strong and powerful they will be when they reach their maximum potential after you’ve bonded with all your mates.” The warmth was back in his gaze. “You may just be the most powerful demon—the most powerfulbeing—alive, Omaera Playfair. Are you prepared for that?”

She swallowed. “Do I have a choice?”

That made Mr. Jol smirk. “No. I suppose not.”

“So you’ll help us? You’ll help me?” she asked.

He grunted, swirled the last dregs of the liquor around in his glass again, then tipped it back and drained it. “Fine. But you’ll do exactly as I say. You’ll train hard.” He met my gaze. Then the mage’s, and finally, the vampire’s. “I expect your mates to cooperate and not get in the way. Even if they think I’m working you too hard.Iknow how hard you can push a demon.”

Drak’s nostrils flared, but he gave a curt nod. Maxar nodded as well, and I pressed a kiss to Omaera’s shoulder before meeting the demon’s gaze and nodding.

“Fine,” Mr. Jol said again, standing up from the barstool. “It’s late, and we have an early start to the morning. There are guest rooms across the courtyard, bathrooms and such. Help yourself to the kitchen. You’ll stay here and not tell a soul who you are. Got it?”

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