Page 73 of Immortal Throne

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Iran through the gate to the portal cliff and skidded to a halt. Chupey bumped into the back of my legs, and I took a few steps forward to avoid falling over like a dead tree. The sight of the same six portals greeted me, along with the Council of Six, Ryker, and his familiar. Other than that, the entire cliff was empty. The other competitors, their familiars, and the cheering squads were gone.

Ryker and Zi’rel turned at our entrance.

“Where’s everyone else?” I asked.

“They dropped out,” Ryker said. He wore dark, ripped jeans, with chains and a black T-shirt that emphasized his strong chest and wide shoulders.

Zi’rel sniffed in my direction before turning her nose up in the air.

“What? Why?” I started walking again, heading toward the fourth portal, Chupey trotting along beside me. The inside of this one swirled with a mixture of purple and pink.

“Are you upset to have less competition?” He raised a dark eyebrow.

“Of course not.” Though I certainly wished he’d dropped out, too. “But why?”

Ryker shrugged. “Who fucking knows. After seeing us with the Borca, they must’ve realized they didn’t stand a chance.”

“After seeingus?” I laughed. “That’s funny because I distinctly remember being the one to slice that monster up like it was a Thanksgiving turkey. You were nowhere to be found until the end.”

Now it was his turn to laugh.

Having the others quit brought good news and bad. Less competition, but now it really was just down to me and Ryker. And only one of us could win. “Maybe you should do the smart thing and drop out too. Save yourself the embarrassment.”

He smirked and shook his head.

“Mark my words, Ryker. The throne will be mine.”

We stopped a few feet from the portal. The Council of Six remained on their dais, motionless except for turning their heads to track our progress. I learned their names, but Zane was still filling me in on their backstories. I already knew Malachi, Ifrit, and S’gor from the first three trials. And S’gor had a lot to answer for. I wouldn’t forgive what that demon did to Chupey anytime soon. The other three council demons were Ba’al, Gwyn, and Moloch, but I wasn’t sure who was who. Zane had provided descriptions, of course, but with all the info-dumping, I couldn’t recall which bio belonged to which demon.

One of the demons, with glistening white hair cascading down his back, stepped from the line to stand beside the swirling fourth portal. His white horns sparkled under the glaring sun. He didn’t wear a shirt, choosing not to hide his bulging chest muscles, chiseled abs, and smooth, tanned skin. A furry loincloth with a studded leather belt hid the family giblets but left very little to the imagination. There was nothing little about him.

“Do you want a bib?” Ryker leaned in to ask.

“What?”

“You’re drooling.”

“I am not.”

“You kind of are,” Chupey added.

I glared down at my familiar. “Not helpful, Chupey.”

The council demon waited patiently while we discussed my drooling, his smirk growing.

I threw my hands up.

“My name is Ba’al,” the demon said, his voice a deep purr. “If you’re successful in your claim to the throne, I very much look forward to working with you.”

His smile was sinful. I swallowed a groan and stepped through the portal.

Ryker followed, but our familiars didn’t.

“Let me guess, that guy’s an incubus or some sort of sex demon?” What I really wanted to ask was why male demons seemed obsessed with wearing loincloths, but I wasn’t really ready for the answer, so I kept my mouth shut.

Ryker’s grin nearly split his face. “You did remarkably well at repelling his magic. I rocked a hard-on for three days when I first met him.”

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