CHAPTER THREE
Maxar
Even though my guts were practically hanging outside my body, I couldn’t have been a happier or more content fucking psycho if I even tried.
Up until now, I’d respectfully hung back when it came to wooing my mate. A lot was thrown at her in a short amount of time, and she was figuring things out to the best of her abilities and in her own way. I knew better than to push. Drak was doing that, and he was pissing her off at every fucking turn.
She bonded with Zandren first, which was fine. I wasn’t a competitive guy. Patience might not be my middle name, but it was definitely something I actively aspired to be. Especially when it came to getting my mate to trust me. Besides, being first didn’t always mean you were the best when it came to this kind of thing. And sure, she’d fucked Drak, but they didn’t mate. He was blinded by his bloodlust, and she was hypnotized by him because of it. Either way, I had faith that my mate would find her way to me on her own terms and in her own time. And I wasn’t wrong.
When she stepped into the room as I lay there healing from Melissima’s ministrations, I thought maybe we’d just talk a bit, get to know each other a little better. Only in my wildest, most depraved dreams did I think she’d want to climb on top of me and ride my fingers and flames the way she did. Not after everything we’d all been through.
Then again, orgasms were a great way to get rid of elevated levels of cortisol and increase the dopamine in our brains. And there wasn’t anything more powerful than sex magic. It was one of the reasons why mating was encouraged to happen sooner rather than later. Because the more bonded mates were, the quicker they could heal each other, and the more powerful their magic became.
I could already feel my organs repairing and my wounds sealing up beneath Melissima’s dressings. By morning, I’d be back to one hundred percent, maybe even sooner than morning if Omaera stayed with me and kept her hands on me.
It didn’t even matter that we hadn’t bonded or had sex. That would come in time. For now, I was more than content just holding her. Just being with her and letting her get to know me.
Hopefully, she liked what she learned.
Not everyone did.
We were quiet for a little while, both of us resting after a very intense, healing, and magical encounter. I could tell she wasn’t asleep, but I also knew she needed to rest.
“Are both your parents fire-mages?” she asked softly, breaking the silence that hung softly in the room. She swallowed and twirled her delicate finger around the hair on my chest. “Are they still alive?”
I sucked in a deep breath and squeezed her tighter against me. I knew this conversation would come up, eventually. I just hadn’t had an opportunity to figure out how I was going to talk to her about it all. About my family.
I must have been quiet too long because she paused her finger, shifted her chin to rest on my chest, and glanced up at me. “A-are they dead?”
I shook my head and pressed my lips together. “No. They’re not dead.”
Relief, but also wariness, shimmered in her green eyes. “But judging by your expression and that look in your eyes, you wish they were?”
Glancing at the ceiling, I gathered my thoughts. “It’s complicated.”
“Don’t shut me out. Please. You know everything about me. About my family. Don’t I deserve the same from you?”
She did .
She absolutely did.
She deserved the fucking moon, stars, and every goddamned planet in the solar system.
I sighed and met her probing gaze. “My dad was— is a fire-mage. My mother is a dark-mage.”
Her dark brows furrowed. “What’s a dark-mage?”
“One who practices and is skilled in dark magic.”
“That’s a thing? But … how can you be born a dark-mage? Isn’t that like putting a curse on a baby? That doesn’t seem remotely fair.”
“She was born an earth-mage, but somewhere along the way got … tangled up with the wrong crowd, if we’re going to use cliché terms. She basically sold her soul to become a dark-mage. Which means she is a danger to everyone. She turned my father over to the dark as well, but he never sold his soul, as far as I know.” A thick, spiky ball formed at the back of my throat. “I was raised by my paternal grandmother—a fire-mage as well. Both my parents have been in prison in Hell for over three hundred years. They were part of a big plot to essentially perform a mass genocide on humans, but your father was one of the ones who thwarted them.”
Her eyes went wide. “M-my dad?”
I nodded. “Yeah. He, along with Zandren’s father and several others, put their differences aside in order to stop my parents. Though, they weren’t alone. There were a lot of mages who sold their souls to the dark.”
“This sounds like Harry Potter, almost. Are you telling me there is a prison like Azkaban and your parents are there rotting for eternity? Where is it?” She sat up, but made sure to keep her hand on me. Even though the topic of discussion was heavy, I was also a man, and this was my mate, and she was fucking gorgeous. So, of course my brain short-circuited a little, and my eyes dropped and basically glued themselves to her perfect tits. She cleared her throat, and I reluctantly pulled my gaze to her face, where she regarded me with amusement.
“Sorry. Actually, no. I’m not sorry. Your tits are fucking fantastic. The mere sight of them is curing all that ails me. In fact, lean over here and stick one of those sweet little nipples into my mouth.” I tugged on her hand, but she resisted.
“I’m serious, Maxar.”
“So am I. Let me just taste them, then I’ll answer your questions. I promise.”
Rolling her eyes, she acquiesced and leaned over me, letting her nipples graze my lips. I latched onto the right one first and sucked until she gasped. Then I gently, but not too gently, scissored my teeth over the tender peak before finally flicking my tongue back and forth over it. I did the same to the other nipple until her moans had my cock stiffening in my black sweats. I could have very easily picked her up and gone for round two with my hands between her legs—in fact, I tried—but she pulled away and sat back, pressing her hand to my chest again.
“Okay, now talk.”
That was the last thing I wanted to do. Especially about my parents.
She lifted one solitary brow. “Talk, Sparky, or I’m putting my bra and shirt back on.”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Fine. They’re in Hell.”
“Like actual Hell? It’s a real place? Is Heaven real too?”
“Hell is real. And they say the Fates and Gods and shit live in Heaven, but nobody has ever been. Or at least, I’ve never met anybody who has. But Hell is real. It’s ruled by demons.”
I could tell she was about to have information overload again, the way she was squinting and tightly shaking her head. “By demons? Is that where my father lived? Am I expected to live there?”
I shrugged. “I think he had a house, or a few houses there, but I don’t think that’s where he lived most of the time. It’s not a great place. It’s like Florida. Hot, humid, and full of cranky old people. It’s where a lot of demons go to ‘retire’ after they’ve had enough of the human world. But it’s also where the Realm prison is located.”
“How do you get to Hell?”
I shrugged again; though, this time it was a bit too enthusiastically apparently, and pulled at my dressings and wounds enough to make me suck in a sharp breath.
“You okay?” She sat up straight, pressing both hands to my chest now. “Did something happen? ”
“I just shrugged too hard. I’m fine.” I grinned. “Though, just to be on the safe side, you could dangle those tits back in my mouth.”
She crossed one arm over her chest so I couldn’t stare at her nipples. “Keep talking. How do you get to Hell?”
“Well, I’m in my own personal Hell being denied the sight of those nipples—Ow!”
She swatted my arm. “Enough with the goofing off. Answer my question.”
“Will you let me suck those tits again if I do?”
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re sexy as fuck.” I held out my hand. “Do we have a deal?”
Her eyes were rolling a lot now, but she was also smiling. Anything to keep her from fretting over her friend lying in the infirmary, or the fact that her uncle nearly killed all of us a few hours ago. Her smooth, delicate hand slid into mine. “Fine. But only once I have all of my questions answered.”
“Deal.”
“How do you get to Hell?”
“There are various portals all over Earth.”
“Have you ever been?”
“Twice, but I’m not a fan. They don’t have any beaches. I like the beach.”
“I thought you said it was like Florida?”
“Yeah, Florida without the beaches. The monsters are bigger and angrier than the crocs and gators in Florida too. Like I said, not a great place.”
“When was the last time you saw your parents?”
My smile faded and the image of me screaming as my parents were carted off to prison by Realm police, my grandmother holding me back as best she could, flitted through my mind like an old movie reel. We lived in Europe at the time, in a castle. I was completely oblivious to what my parents were plotting—to what they almost achieved. A plague unlike anything ever seen before was going to be unleashed onto the humans, killing them all in a vicious and violent way.
Omaera’s cool palm back on my chest brought be back to reality. “Maxar, when was the last time you saw your parents?” she asked again.
“Three hundred years ago. I was thirty-four and my grandmother finally told me that it was she who turned them in for plotting to kill the humans. She turned in her own son and daughter-in-law.”
“That couldn’t have been easy.”
I swallowed and shook my head. “She was terrified that I’d hate her for it.”
“And did you?”
“No. But I hadn’t seen my parents since I was four, when they were carted away by the Realm police. So after thirty years, I went through the portal to Hell and requested a visit. I asked them if they regretted what they did. Destroying our family that way.”
She could probably tell by my eyes that my parents didn’t regret a damned thing.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to my lips. “Maybe they do now, after three hundred years?”
I laughed humorlessly and shook my head. The second time I saw them was a hundred and forty years ago, and they still regretted nothing—besides not being more secretive about their plan. “I doubt it. But maybe. I blame them, though. Not my grandmother. Their choices are what led to their incarceration. Are what led to our family being broken apart. I have no siblings. And a lot of my aunts and uncles died in the last war.”
“What about your grandmother?”
Warmth filled my chest, and I smiled for real this time, taking her hand and pressing my lips to it. “She is going to love you.”
A tear slid down her cheek, but she smiled, relief sparkling in the emerald-green of her eyes. “She’s still alive?”
“I’m not sure anything will ever be able to kill Hildalia Rane.”
“Let’s hope not. Where does she live now?”
Even more warmth and happiness filled me as fond memories of the second most important person in my life shoved away all the last remaining thoughts of my parents. “She settled in Australia about a hundred years ago. She rescues wombats, bilbies, wallabies, and orphaned joeys.”
Omaera’s giggle was almost as medicinal as her tits in my mouth. “Seriously?”
I nodded. “Yeah. She runs a very successful animal rescue center, but they seem to end up with mostly wombats and orphaned baby kangaroos. One day, I’ll take you there and you can meet her and snuggle a joey. It’s a dopamine rush almost as good as sex.”
A sexy red raced up from her chest and into her cheeks. “I’m looking forward to meeting the woman who raised the crazy, caring—slightly psychotic—Maxar Rane. I need to tell her she did a pretty great job.”
A heat hotter than the fucking sun filled my face. It took a lot to make me blush, but a compliment like that from my mate was sure as fuck going to do it.
“Any more questions?” I asked, zeroing back in on her tits and licking my lips.
“Yeah … a few,” she said playfully. “I was eavesdropping on you and Melissima, and she said the vampire was being stubborn and keeping something from me too. Something that was causing him pain. Do you know what it is?”
I shook my head. “No. But even if I did, it wouldn’t be my secret to divulge.” I slid my hand along her smooth thigh. “Unless, of course, it put him further into the doghouse, and me even more cemented into your good graces.” She rolled her eyes again. “But alas, I know not what ails him. Besides, you know, being a massive pasty-faced, blood-sucking twat. But I don’t think those are ailments so much as character flaws.” My fingers covertly made their way up her thigh until I could feel the heat of her pussy. “Sexy time now?”
“Final question.”
“Fine.”
“Drak goes feral when I have my period, and apparently, Zandren will go feral when I am ovulating. Is there any time each month I have to worry about you going feral?”
Gripping her by the hips, I lifted her up with enough force to make her yelp, and placed her back over my hips, straddling me and my hard cock. “Baby, my loins are always on fire. For you, I’ll never stop burning.” Then I cupped her face with both hands and brought her mouth down to mine, devouring her moans and loving the way she handed complete control over to me, because she trusted me. And nothing was hotter than fucking trust.
I’m sure Omaera got up to go pee at some point in the middle of the night. And probably to check on Gemma, the vampire, and the bear. But when the first light of morning pierced through the askew drapes, she was nestled in at my side, her hand on my chest.
I kissed my queen’s forehead, and she instantly stirred.
“You put your shirt back on,” I said, disappointment only slightly coloring my tone. “You didn’t get cold, did you?”
“Not next to you,” she said, stretching and yawning. “I did get up for a bit to go eat, and check on everyone though.”
“How is Gemma?”
“No change. But Melissima says that’s a good thing.”
I nodded. “It means the magic is working.”
“Shouldn’t we see improvement if the magic is working?” She blinked big, innocent green eyes up at me.
“Because she’s human, magic will take longer to heal her than it would you or me. So the fact that her condition hasn’t worsened means the magic is fighting to get the upper hand.” Worry painted every pretty inch of her face. Gemma was the most important person in the world to Omaera, and even though Gemma wasn’t my mate, I’d do whatever I could to keep Gemma safe. Because I knew if she didn’t live, neither would my mate. “You need to have faith. Melissima knows what she’s doing. We just need to be patient.”
Nodding, but convinced, she sat up and gently peeked under my dressings to check on things. Her eyes went buggy. “You’re almost completely healed.”
“Sex magic has great healing powers.” I winked and motioned for her to climb off the bed. “In fact, I think I’m well enough to get up. I really need to piss anyway.” She slid off the bed and stood up, and with a grunt fit for an old goat, I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed.
It was sweet when she thought she needed to support me, and even though I didn’t need any help to make my way to the door, I let her wrap an arm around my waist and guide me down the hall to the bathroom. Any excuse to touch my mate, even if it wasn’t necessary.
“I’ll meet you in the living room,” I said, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be okay.”
“You’re sure?”
She got another wink and a nod from me, which seemed to placate her enough that she let go so I could close the door.
I did what I needed to do in the bathroom, forgoing a shower for now. Then made my way to the living room and dining room where the bear’s deep rumble competed with the broody murmur of the vampire. They were arguing—again.
“We need to stop reacting,” Drak argued from where he sat at the kitchen table sawing into a steak with a side of steamed spinach. “He lured us to him when he kidnapped Gemma. So we need to take a page out of his book and do the same. Lure him to us.”
“We’re not using Omaera as bait,” Zandren said, pushing away from the table and the empty plate in front of him. He crossed his enormous arms over his chest. “I still say we employ another hunter-mage and ambush Lerris.”
“We don’t even know where to look for him.” Drak shook his head. “It’d be a wild goose chase, and I doubt Omaera wants to be traipsing all over the world hunting her psychotic demon uncle.” He appealed to the Queen, who cradled a mug of something steaming in front of her as she sat curled up on the couch, watching their argument with mild irritation.
Never one to be shy about anything, I jumped right in. “What would our queen like to do? Rather than speak for her, how about we ask her?” I glanced at my mate, unable to miss the amused tip of her lips on one side. “What say you, Your Majesty? Lure or hunt?”
She mouthed a silent, “Thank you.” Which just made my heart soar. My dick might have twitched a little too when her lips puckered on the last word. Last night had been all about her—kind of. My pleasure wasn’t even in the equation. I wanted my queen, my mate, my everything, to feel good. I needed to take away some of what bothered and ailed her, even if just temporarily.
I mean, sure, it healed me too. Sex was magical. But even if I was still dragging my entrails around behind me like a conga line of balloon animals, I would have done exactly what we did last night.
My balls were a bit achy now though. Not going to lie. But it wasn’t anything I couldn’t deal with.
Drak and Zandren focused their attention on Omaera, waiting for her answer. I wandered into the kitchen where Melissima had a spread of food out for breakfast. It was like we were at a bed-and-breakfast, not a healer-mage’s cottage hiding from murderous demons. I filled up a plate with pastries, fruit, and some bacon. Then I grabbed a coffee before choosing to sit on the couch with my queen, rather than at the kitchen table with the two buffoons.
“ If we lure him, how do we do that? How do you trap a demon?” Omaera finally asked, having mulled both options over in her mind for a hot minute, keeping everyone in suspense with her silence.
“I’d just like to add,” Melissima interjected, holding up a pale, slender finger from where she sat at the head of the dining room table, “that while Omaera is a strong demon, her powers are still in their infancy. She needs to practice them now more than ever. Who knows who Lerris has rallied to his cause, and how powerful they are. You were able to get away from them this time, but now he knows she has three mates, and that she is a powerful demon—a demon who will only become more powerful with each mate she bonds with. He’s not going to go in so disarmed next time.”
Drak’s head bobbed. “I agree. We need to find her another trainer.”
“How can we find a demon that we know we can trust?” Omaera asked. “I’m always going to be suspicious that they’re racist and secretly working for my uncle. Raewyn nearly killed Gemma—and me. I’m not risking that again.”
“The only one who can truly help you trap a demon is another demon,” Drak said solemnly. “I know it’s a risk, but we need to find a demon who can train you and help us set a trap for Lerris.”
“I don’t like the idea of using my mate as bait,” Zandren grumbled, getting up from his spot at the table and taking his dishes to the dishwasher in the kitchen. Then he made a small show of crossing the room—though somebody that large can’t make a small show of anything—and squeezing into the couch on the other side of Omaera. The brow lift he tossed at me in challenge simply set my eyes rolling in amusement.
“I’d rather me as bait than Gemma,” Omaera said, glancing at him as he wrapped an arm around the back of the couch behind her. “I don’t want her anywhere near this.”
“She will probably have to stay here for quite some time,” Melissima said. “There is much to repair. And my home is safe. There are shields everywhere. They couldn’t find Gemma if they tried with the best hunter-mages alive.”
I believed her, but I could tell Omaera was still skeptical.
Omaera turned to Zandren. “Do you think your father might have some suggestions?” She shrugged. “I’m just … grasping here. Maybe he knows of a demon from way back when that he trusts?” Her gaze swiveled to Drak. “Considering who King Howar recommended turned out to be a bigoted racist with a homicidal streak.”
I snorted.
Drak’s nostrils flared.
“I need a phone,” Zandren said, holding out his enormous catcher’s mitt of a hand. “Please.”
Omaera reached into the pocket of her sweatpants and pulled out her phone, handing it to the scruffy-faced bear. He tossed her a wink and thanked her before punching in a number with his sausage fingers.
Then he put it on speaker-mode and held it in his palm as it rung.
A grumble was the first thing we heard, followed by a gruff and gritty, “H-hello?”
“Dad, it’s me,” Zandren said. “You’re on speaker with Omaera, the fire-mage, the vampire, and Melissima the healer-mage.”
“Why am I on speaker?” barked the old goat of a bear.
“It’s just easier this way, Dad. I’ll keep it brief. Do you know any demons that you would trust to help us set a trap for Lerris and also train Omaera? ”
“Demons!” the Shifter King exclaimed. “You know I don’t associate—”
“Dad, I’ll remind you that my mate is a demon,” Zandren said quickly.
Luckily, Omaera seemed more amused than insulted as her green eyes glimmered and a sweet smile spread out across her face. “Hi, King Ryden,” Omaera said sweetly. “I can’t wait to meet you. I’m very sorry that I’m a demon. I can’t help it.”
King Ryden made some more old man grumbles on the phone, along with some half-assed apologies.
“Dad?” Zandren said, trying to corral the conversation back to the important topic of trustworthy demons.
If my mate wasn’t a demon, I would have laughed out loud from that sentiment. A trustworthy demon. Was there really such a thing?
“Right, right,” King Ryden said, clearing his throat. “Only one that comes to mind. Kenvin Jol.”
We all exchanged looks across the room. Clearly, none of us had heard of Kenvin Jol. But the way King Ryden said his name was as if he was infamous and we should all gasp, faint, or cower in fear.
“Who is Kenvin Jol?” Zandren asked, casually shifting closer to Omaera. Something that wasn’t lost on Drak or me. “And where can we find him?”
“Grumpy old coot. Got tired of the human world and retired to Hell ages ago. Keeps to himself. Doesn’t like anybody. Kind of a shoots-if-you-step-on-his-property-doesn’t-bother-with-questions-later kind of guy. He hates everybody—but Lerris, more than anything. So he’s your best bet.”
The mention of Hell had me almost instantly losing my appetite. And Omaera must have sensed it because her hand landed on my thigh. I glanced up at her, my gut twisting.
“How do we find this Kenvin in Hell, Your Majesty?” Omaera asked.
“Oh, darlin’. Call me Ryden, please. You’re my daughter-in-law, after all, and my queen. None of this ‘Your Majesty’ bullshit.”
Zandren snorted. Drak looked visibly uncomfortable, and I was still grappling with the idea of returning to Hell. Even if I didn’t get within a ten-mile radius of the prison where my parents were being kept, they would surely find out I’d been to Hell and know I never bothered to pay them a visit. They had eyes and ears everywhere. When their efforts to kill off all the humans was thwarted, most of their like-minded group was captured, but a few managed to escape, disappearing into the world and keeping a low profile. There was a hunter-mage task force in charge of sniffing them out, and occasionally I’d hear through the grapevine that one was captured, put on trial, and imprisoned.
“Ryden, how do we find Kenvin?” Omaera repeated. “If he hates everyone, how can we expect him to want to help us?”
“Plead your case before he shoots you,” the Shifter King replied. “That’s the only advice I can give you. He doesn’t have a phone, so I can’t call him. There’s no way to call Hell from Earth anyway. I don’t even know if the old bugger is still alive. Though, I see no reason for him not to be.” He murmured that last part more to himself.
“And you think he’ll agree to train Omaera?” Drak asked, skepticism in his tone.
“No idea,” King Ryden replied. “But he’s the only demon I can think of that hates Lerris enough to guarantee he won’t double-cross you.”
“Why does he hate Lerris so much?” I asked.
“Who was that?” Ryden demanded.
“Maxar Rane, Your Majesty. Fire-mage.”
“Rane!” King Ryden exclaimed. “Don’t tell me you’re the son of Gwinn and Nulon Rane?”
Shit.
“Can we please get back to the reason for our call?” Omaera asked, earning my deepest appreciation for her attempt to redirect the conversation away from my disgraceful parents. “Why does Kenvin hate Lerris so much?”
“Don’t know,” Ryden said, clearly still ruffled from learning who my parents were. “Not sure he’ll tell you either. But it’s no Realm secret that if given the chance, he’d behead your uncle in a heartbeat.”
“Well, that’s some anger we can work with to our advantage,” Zandren said. “Now all we need to do is find a nearby portal to Hell and go find this Kenvin. ”
Oh yeah, easy peasy. Let’s just find a portal to Hell and walk on through.
If there was ever a statement that gave away Zandren’s ignorance regarding Hell and the fact that he’d never been there, that was it. Portals were very difficult to find. Because they always shifted. They weren’t like doorways that were a fixed structure forever. They were at the mercy of the wind, the tide, and who knew what fucking else. It was a way to keep idiot humans from stumbling through one accidentally and going on a Narnia-like adventure into the Demon Realm where they’d sure as fuck be roasted on a spit by demons looking to liven up a Friday night.
Also, going through a portal wasn’t like walking through a doorway into the kitchen pantry. It was painful. It tore every molecule of your body apart, then reassembled it back on the other side. It wasn’t a fun process. You also never knew where in Hell the portal was going to spit you out. It could be right where you wanted to be, or a day’s journey from where you needed to be.
“Can’t help you there, son,” Ryden said. “Make a point of not going to Hell if I can help it. Painful process it is, what with the whole being ripped into a million pieces and such.”
Omaera and Zandren’s mouths dropped open.
I glanced at Drak who still held a stoney expression. “Resting Vamp Face” we called it, since they all always looked like they’d bit into a decaying corpse and sucked some curdled O-neg. Melissima didn’t look shocked either. They knew what it took to go to Hell.
“Howar will know where a portal is,” Drak finally said.
King Ryden made a harrumph sound in his throat. “Yes, I’m sure he does.”
Even though I’m sure King Ryden hated me because of who my parents were, the old bear was growing on me, simply because he shared my disdain for vampires.
“What about Queen Anysa?” Omaera asked, turning to me. “Do you think she’d know where a portal is?”
She would, but I wasn’t exactly a right hand to the Mage Queen. She knew of me, and I of her, but that was about it. She mostly knew of me because she kept an eye on me, given my lineage. She kept an eye on all the mage spawn from the crew who nearly wiped out the human race.
“Let’s see what King Howar has to offer first,” I replied, offering my mate a smile.
“Thanks for your help, Dad,” Zandren said.
The King merely grunted. Then the line went dead.
All eyes focused on Drak.
“I guess you’re calling your cousin for a friendly family chat,” I said, biting into a piece of bacon, though I wasn’t really hungry. “Hopefully, he can help us this time and not nearly kill us like he did with that demon-bitch Raewyn.”
Ire burned icy-hot in Drak’s eyes as he glared at me. But it was impossible to mistake the unease in his expression either. He didn’t like what I said, but he also didn’t entirely disagree with it.
Interesting.