Page 77 of Prince of Demons
His jaw worked once. Twice. Something flared in his gaze, angry and raw, and for just a moment, she thought she saw just a sliver of regret. Her heart gave a spasm, somewhere past the rage, but then his expression smoothed into cold indifference and the fizzle of hope withered before it ever fully sprouted.
Silently, he let her slide to the concrete floor. Immediately, icy cold bit into the soles of her naked feet, and for a split second, she wished she was back in his arms. Then he turned his back on her, as if she didn’t exist, and stalked out of the empty space, leaving her behind with his family.
Yes. What she’d felt underneath him, in his arms… even when she’d held him while he cried over the loss of his mother—to her human heart, those had been moments of connection had been so profound, it felt like it’d changed something in the very makeup of her DNA. To a demon, however… To a demon, they’d meant nothing.
She meant nothing.
Kesh’s official premises—AKA the converted casino that housed his throne room—were in wild disarray all throughout the night.
From the room on the second floor where she’d been sequestered, Georgia watched men—she assumed demons, but thanks to her brand she couldn’t know for certain—drag chairs and tables and enormous flower decorations out of an unending caravan of trucks and into the throne room below. It seemed the ‘courting’ of a so-called Pure Breeder required more pomp and circumstance than the ones who couldn’t survive a demon lord’s penetration.
Sometime in the early morning hours, when the exhaustion finally won out over misery and she managed to doze off, a large but not ridiculous plate of breakfast and a beautiful red gown appeared in her room. She woke up to the scent of bacon, and the dress draped across the dressing room chair.
It looked as expensive as any of the beautiful dresses Kesh provided for her during her time under his care, but on closer inspection, the fabric was stiff and heavy, with thousands of shimmering diamonds covering the bodice and rippling down the full skirt. He hadn’t picked this one—his selections had always been silky and butter-soft, beautiful but made for a comfortable skin feel first and foremost.
Whoever had selected the red gown had considered how to make her appear striking and regal, but not how it would feel to wear such a dress.
Georgia slid her fingers over the stiff fabric. It was no doubt as expensive as the jewels covering it, but to hold up the heft of the gown it had to be rigid. She didn’t mind—once upon a time, as a little girl, she would have given her left arm to wear such an extravagant dress. With what lay ahead in her life, she really should try to find the silver linings where she could. What did it matter that her already broken heart twinged at the knowledge that Kesh hadn’t cared enough to choose the dress she would wear to her courting ceremony? He’d made it plenty clear it was an inconvenient event he needed over with as soon as possible, so he could return his focus to what mattered to him: his men, his territory, and his family.
Her morose thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. The queen entered, sans baby.
“Hey. I just wanted to check up on you. I know it’s all… a lot right now.”
Georgia shrugged, turning away from the dress. “It’s been a lot for a while now. This is just… an extra helping of the crap-cake.”
Selma sighed softly. “I’m… I’m truly sorry, Georgia. I keep trying to stop this… vile custom of using us as something to be owned, but as much power as I have now… I am not more powerful than the primordial need they have to possess.”
“It’s not your fault. I guess… it could be worse. Kesh said something about you changing the customs they used to have.”
Selma gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah… they used to auction us. We got dragged naked into an arena surrounded by demons who then bid on us. Whoever offered the most money, while also being able to win a fight against the other competitors, would get to fuck us right there, in front of everyone, then haul us off to birth children.
“Giving you some semblance of choice in who you mate… It’s not enough, but it’s… a starting point.”
Georgia shuddered at the far-too-vivid description. “It’s… It’s more than I thought I’d get. It will have to be enough.”
The queen’s chocolate eyes studied her for a long moment. “Do you love him?”
There was no point in asking who she meant. Georgia exhaled a slow, steadying breath and shook her head. “How could I? I’m just… I’m just an inconvenience to him. And he’s… cruel, and brutal… a cold-blooded killer. No, I don’t love him, I just…” She trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence. When she dared a glance at the queen, the other woman’s face was drawn in gentle empathy.
“There was a time I didn’t think I could ever love a demon. They are… all those things. Monsters. But they are more than that—so much more. And there is no shame in loving them.”
“It doesn’t really matter whether I do or not. He’s made his choice. At least I get to make mine today, too.” Georgia managed a half-smile. “No one marries a demon and expects happily ever after. But it’s comforting to know that it is at least… a possibility, of sorts.”
Selma bit her lip, nodding as she let her gaze slide over the red gown. “There was… something else I wanted to discuss with you. The goddess who came to Kesh’s penthouse, did she… give you anything? Before she activated your ring?”
Georgia frowned at the change of subject. “Give me something? No. Why, what would she have given me?”
Selma reached into her pocket and pulled out a palm-sized, smooth, and dully glowing stone. A shock of recognition ran up Georgia’s spine at the sight of it.
“Nothing like this?”
“W-what is that?” The memory of Suzanne in her child-disguise, pressing an identical stone into her hand, prickled unpleasantly at her brain.
“This is a Stone of Power. One of the three most powerful demonic artifacts ever created. The European royals gave one to the old queen—I won it from her when I defeated her. According to my mate’s father, the lords Kesh was fighting in Maine had another, but the goddess who visited you yesterday stole it.
“Kirigan is right, of course. The gods are devious, and whatever plans they have are rarely for the benefit of humans, and definitely not those of us mated to their arch enemies. But… I do find it curious that the thief of this second stone sought you out and attempted to force a mating between you and a member of the family that currently holds another such artifact.” There was no accusation in the queen’s eyes, just calm reassurance. She knew.
“She gave it to me in Maine, when she was pretending to be a child,” Georgia whispered, the implications still too enormous to process. “I thought… I thought it was just a pretty stone. But I… I don’t have it anymore. It was in my pocket when Kesh… He ripped my clothes. It’s probably still somewhere in the rubble of the penthouse if you want it.”
