The Demon King's Destiny Page 12

  Marrok was centuries old. She’d known he’d been with others. She might not have witnessed it, but her sixth sense told her Melena had become his lover at some point.

  Rolling to her side, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for Melena, to be treated as an object by someone so cruel. The she-demon was as much a victim as anyone who suffered under Brennen’s rule.

  Whatever happened after she’d been gifted, Melena didn’t appear to still be in a relationship with Marrok. Evelyn was confident he wouldn’t pursue the bond with her if he was still committed to another.

  Then again, she wasn’t in Sundari so she had no real way of knowing. Melena could currently be living under his roof, working as his Seer. It was possible Marrok hadn’t acted on his attraction and merely kept Melena in his employment.

  Tied up in knots, Evelyn tossed and turned the rest of the night while Marrok’s memories kept coming.

  Chapter 14

  Three weeks later …

  The first thing Marrok noticed when he opened his eyes was the incandescent glow of soft yellows and whites dancing under the canopy. Before him, where the wide path gave way to the meadow, was a table with a pewter candelabra standing in the center.

  He also saw a bottle of wine and two flutes, already filled. What he did not see was his mate. He concentrated, using his inner demon to sense if she was near. After the blood exchange, he should be able to detect her presence.

  Evelyn was right behind him.

  Grinning, he spun around and plucked her off her feet. He buried his face in her neck, hugging her harder than necessary. His demon purred. Meeting only once a month was taxing on his spirit.

  “Miss me?” she laughed.

  “Yes. I came close to dreamwalking a dozen times just to steal a kiss.”

  “You don’t have to steal when it is so willingly given.”

  “Then I’ll gladly take what you’ll give, moj draga.”

  Their mouths met and Evelyn slid her arms around his neck, holding the back of his head. His kiss was tender and sweet, not the rushed passion she’d assumed he’d bestow. She couldn’t decide which she preferred.

  Evelyn kissed along his chin and around to his ear, playfully nipping his lobe. Skimming her nose along his neck, she inhaled deeply, loving his exotic scent.

  “I missed you, as well.” More than she wanted to say. With each passing night, she grew more and more restless. She prided herself on being strong, but her dreams were testing her will. She needed Marrok’s reassurance.

  “Good.”

  Slowly, Marrok lowered Evelyn to her feet. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. Keeping it clasped, he led her to the table.

  “Did you do this?” he asked, handing her one of the wine glasses.

  She nodded, taking a timid sip of the sweet alcohol. “I’ve been practicing, seeing what I can make work here. It can get rather boring dreaming of the same place repetitively, so I figured I would try new things to pass the time. I thought we could try sharing a meal. Do you like it?” she asked, taking another sip.

  “I would have preferred you conjured a bed.”

  Evelyn spit her wine out, right onto Marrok’s chest, who in turn began a deep, rich belly laugh. Wide-eyed, she started wiping at his shirt, babbling an apology. If her sisters ever saw her act thusly, she’d never hear the end of it.

  He took Evelyn’s drink and sat it on the table, along with his. Marrok grabbed her hand, tilting her reddened face by her chin with his other. His eyes glimmered in the candlelight, full of amber with very little black.

  The corners of her mouth turned down, resenting his bemusement a little. At least he had the manners not to make fun of her.

  “After what we shared with one another last month, the mention of a bed shocks you?”

  “A bed implies intercourse.”

  “I could have taken you on the blanket just as easily, Evelyn.”

  “I know. I was caught off guard, is all. Here I was thinking of sitting down with you and your mind was on lying down with me. You’re the one who insisted on going slow.”

  “This is true. Though I hardly believe your inquisitive brain hasn’t thought of lying with me. I was merely pointing out a bed would be a nice place to recline as opposed to a blanket on the ground. We may have jumped a bit further than I’d planned last time, but I’ll not push you into anything, Evelyn.”

  “I know.”

  Marrok was an honorable male. She trusted him with her body, more than he knew. If not for the constant dreams of late, she probably would have conjured a bed.

  She’d had quite a number of dreams centering around Marrok and Melena together. Luckily, she never saw them exploring the physical side of things. Watching the beginning of their relationship was torture enough.

  With every stab of envy and resentfulness, Evelyn reminded herself that she was Marrok’s saatus—not Melena—and he would have no other mate. It was preordained.

  She had great faith in Fate. It was the only thing she could hold onto bearing witness to his prior pursuit of another. Though, she did question to what purpose she was being shown these particular memories.

  She’d learned Marrok had moved Melena into his home immediately after Brennen gifted her. Evelyn still cringed at the baseness of treating a sentient being in such a way. Though she was jealous of the raven-haired beauty, Evelyn did have sympathy for her situation.

  From the dreams, Evelyn knew Melena’s room was across from Marrok’s. The first night, he’d walked her to her quarters, cupped her face in both hands, and told her to knock on his door if she needed anything, no matter how inconsequential her need may be.

  The female’s eyes had flared and swirled, an odd reddish blue mixed with the amber. She moved her mouth in speech, though Evelyn heard no words. She’d felt a whisper of power skirt across Marrok’s skin, followed by a surge of responsibility towards his new charge. He vowed to keep her away from Brennen and his uncle’s mind games.

  During these dreams, Evelyn watched Melena as Marrok had watched Melena. The she-demon was often the center of his attention. He stared at her when they shared meals. When she walked the garden below his balcony. When entertaining guests.

  Melena had totally ensnared him.

  The worst of it was Evelyn’s having to endure his inner dialogue of attraction, of his plans to seduce Melena slowly. Was this what he typically did with lovers? What he was doing with Evelyn?

  She didn’t judge him for wanting Melena. She’d felt his loneliness, the longing to touch and hold onto something he thought precious wasn’t a character flaw. If anything, it made him even more endearing. Marrok had wanted to be the other half of a couple, desired to share his life with a female.

  Life under King Brennen was misery incarnate. Any soul worth anything deserved some semblance of happiness in its life.

  With this last thought, Evelyn shuffled closer, sliding her arms around his waist. Her forehead rested against his sternum. She loved how his arms automatically came around her in return. In this space, all was right in her world. In this space, they belonged to one another.

  So, of course, she had to go and ruin it.

  “Who is Melena?” she asked as delicately as she could.

  Under her hands, Evelyn felt Marrok go stock-still, his muscles immediately hardening.

  “Where did you hear that name?”

  “I dreamt of her.”

  “She was here? Like Jasper had been here?”

  “No. I dreamt your memories again. Quite a few of them this time.”

  Marrok forgot to breath. What trick of Fate would force his mate to witness his past? It couldn’t have been pleasant seeing him with someone else.

  “What did you see?”

  She couldn’t voice it, didn’t know where to begin. She feared saying aloud she observed him falling for the she-demon would give the past power. Evelyn wanted to live in the present. Unfortunately, she knew to do so, she would have to understand, and get over, Mar
rok’s past.

  “Look at me.”

  Evelyn slowly took in a breath, steeling herself to face him. She was met with bright amber, her indication he was experiencing strong emotion.

  “What did you see?” he asked again.

  “Take it from my mind.”

  “What?”

  “I saw a lot. Much of it seemed personal. I’m not positive I can articulate it all. Can you pull the memories from my mind?”

  “If that is your preference.”

  “It is. Go ahead.”

  Marrok splayed his hands on both sides of Evelyn’s head. Closing his eyes, he sifted through her mind, searching for Melena. He feared what he would see—feared what Evelyn had seen.

  A series of moving images played in his mind’s eye. The day he met Melena, some of their early days together. Amazingly, the memories weren’t as painful as they used to be. In fact, he experienced them as an almost detached observer.

  A niggling ate at him when he saw Melena’s mouth occasionally move without sound. He had no memories of her doing so. His demon retreated, wanting nothing to do with the show. He was only interested in his saatus.

  When the last memory passed, he released Evelyn. Thankfully, she had not been tormented with the reminiscences of him making love to Melena.

  “Let us sit,” he nodded to the table.

  He pulled out a chair and Evelyn sat, dropping her hands into her lap. Marrok took the other chair and drained the rest of his wine. He hoped the dreamworld’s alcohol was potent.

  He retrieved the necklace from his pocket, where he’d taken to keeping it, and placed it on the table. He’d not been able to bring himself to wear it once again.

  “This was Melena’s.”

  Evelyn glanced down at the medallion. He’d told her he’d been wearing it the night he lost it. This night, it had been in his pocket.

  “Melena was my wife.”

  Her throat tightened. “Was?” she managed to ask.

  “She died, decades ago.”

  Evelyn wanted to ask how, being that demons were notoriously hard to kill. Maybe she had perished due to some disease of the heart. Aside from removing the organ, as Marrok had done with Brennen, ailments of the heart were the only thing she’d ever heard could snuff out the life of a Sundari.

  Not wanting to be unkind, she didn’t press. “I’m sorry. Truly. I could see she meant much to you.”

  “She did.”

  “You kept her memory close. This is why you wore her necklace.”

  “It is.”

  “But you do not wear it any longer?”

  “No. I’ve not worn it since the night it fell off.”

  Marrok’s jaw worked, clearly uncomfortable. Seeking to soothe his distress, she put her hand atop his.

  “I should have told you, Evelyn. I didn’t like keeping it secret. To be honest, since I’ve met you, her memory has only surfaced a handful of times. It never seemed the right moment to bring it up.”

  “I understand.”

  A dubious expression appeared on his face. “How could you possibly understand? I married someone who wasn’t my saatus. Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “A little. I understand why you took her as a lover. I could feel how much you resented your feelings of solitude and how you felt a connection to Melena right away. You also felt responsible for her well-being and protected her from Brennen.”

  Marrok inhaled, relaxing his posture on the exhale and nodding. “I did.”

  “Why marry if you knew the two of you could never truly bond?”

  “I loved her. I’d never loved anyone, not in that way. So I committed myself to loving her, in every way I could.”

  Evelyn nodded, appreciating his honesty. His admission, while uncomfortable, didn’t spark any sort of extreme reaction of jealousy in her. Instead, she was empathetic to his loss.

  Melena had brought him some level of happiness. Evelyn couldn’t bring herself to begrudge him for it. She cared for him enough to want his life to be fulfilling, even before they met. Someday, she hoped they, too, would find their way to love.

  “I’m sorry she was the subject of your dreams. Fate can be a cruel teacher, but She shows us what we need to learn. I assume it was because I should have told you the truth of it.”

  “I’m not upset, Marrok, not in the way you think.”

  “You’re not?”

  “I thought you could determine truth from lie,” she teased.

  His mouth relaxed, a slow grin replacing the flat line. “You amaze me, moj draga.”

  “And why is that?” she replied with a grin of her own.

  “You’re stronger than I. Wiser.”

  Evelyn sniffed. “Hardly.”

  He clasped both of her hands in his. “You are. Do you not remember my reaction to the young male during our last visit? He wasn’t even your lover and I was sorely tempted to dreamwalk to him so I could tear his limbs off his body.”

  “Really?” Her response came out husky. Something about his visceral reaction turned her on. She should probably be concerned for Jasper’s life, though she couldn’t remember why while looking into the heated eyes across the table.

  “Most definitely. In fact, I—damnit!” he cursed, jerking his hands away.

  “What is it?”

  She saw the answer before he responded. A long line of blood seeped into the fabric on the sleeve of his white shirt.

  “Someone’s trying to wake me. I have to go. My men were instructed not to bother me tonight unless it was a matter of life or death.”

  He stood, hastily returning the necklace to his pocket.

  “If you want to wear it, I understand,” she insisted.

  Marrok’s chest tightened. Evelyn really was a wonder to him, far more selfless than he could ever have been if the situation was reversed. He leaned down to plant a firm kiss on his mate’s full lips. Reluctantly, he straightened.

  “Another month?” she asked.

  “Yes. At least. If I am delayed, I’ll try to leave word, if I can.”

  “Here? In the dreamworld?”

  “Yes. If you can conjure a table and wine, I’m sure I can manage a pen and paper. I’ll contact you as soon as I’m able.”

  “Be careful.”

  He was gone before the words left her lips.

  * * *

  “Stop cutting me. I’m awake,” he groused, compelling himself into consciousness.

  “Apologies, Sire.”

  Favin’s worried face came into view. Then Danil’s.

  “Where is Lazlo?” Marrok inquired. He was usually never far, especially now that Petr was dispatched elsewhere.

  “He’s gathering the guards,” Favin responded.

  “No, what he’s doing is running around like a nutter,” Danil quipped.

  Marrok sat up, recalling the last time Favin had to cut him to get him to awaken. “What’s happened?”

  This was their first night in the fortress in a month. No one should have known they’d secretly returned this morning. Rogues weren’t likely to attack what they believed to be an empty fortress.

  “We’ve received word the holding stations are under attack,” Favin told him.

  “Which ones?”

  “All of them.”

  Marrok’s fists clenched, angry heat surged from his core through his limbs. He leapt out of bed, gathering his clothing and dressing quickly.

  “Even the one here?” he asked his Second.

  “Yes, Sire.”

  Marrok secured his sword, along with a handful of other blades, striding out the door as he sheathed the last of them. Danil and Favin were close on his heals.

  “To attack them all at once means it was coordinated. There are too many for it to be mere happenstance,” he thought aloud, making his way down the stairs. “All this work, and now we learn they’re organized enough to launch a strategic attack.”

  The longer he thought, the more enraged Marrok became. To be strategic in this manner, someo
ne had to be controlling the rogues, leading them.

  Not all rogues were shells. Brennen had enough of his wits to command his army and play mind games with others. Marrok would find the demon responsible and remove his heart.

  “Sire, where are you going?” Favin asked.

  Marrok didn’t reply. He withdrew his sword as he approached the main doors. “Open them,” he yelled at the guards.

  They swung open and Marrok took off into the night, his two friends drawing their weapons and running to keep up.

  Favin shouted orders to the guards behind them. What they were, Marrok didn’t know. His singular focus was to contain the intruders.

  Killing them would have been easier. He was tired of running in place, tired of taking one step forward, only to be knocked back ten. He dug deep for the will to fight for them, despite their continuous aggressions.

  The courtyard was empty and he made his way west, following the exterior wall. The station was just around the corner. He could hear heavy thuds and the splintering of wood.

  The torches lining the high security wall, running parallel to the fortress, would make it easy for Marrok to be seen. He made no attempt to hide his approach. He wanted the rogues to know who was coming for them.

  His mind knew there was no chance they would surrender. His heart held out hope they would recognize their king and lay down their weapons. It was foolish to hope such things. He also knew he was incapable of giving up on them.

  A figure sprinted towards him, crazed and uncoordinated. Marrok side stepped, snapping his arm out straight to close line the demon. The unarmed rogue landed on his back with a loud oomph. Marrok brought the pommel of his sword down hard enough to render the demon unconscious.

  “Put him in a cell. I’ll disable the rest and check if they’re salvageable later.”

  Favin didn’t move. “Sire, let us round them up. I’ll then check their minds, as you wish.”

  “No. Any who were corrupt prior to succumbing will be executed. I won’t lay that on you. Tonight, this burden is mine alone.”

  Marrok didn’t want to announce he planned to interrogate the captured rogues—or how he intended to get answers from them. He considered himself a fair male, but he would employ drastic measures to cut off the head of the snake. That was a regret he alone would assume.