Chapter 29
Isabelle
“Let me through! I need to get inside!” Trying to shove the demon is as effective as shoving a brick wall.
It doesn’t help that my body already feels drained from my fight with the hooded attacker.
Making my way this far into the castle was no easy task, especially since every demon is running in the opposite direction.
But not me. I’m running toward the danger.
Toward Oziel.
Only to be stopped by his fucking guards. Guards who were not here earlier. Had they been called away? Was that why the attacker easily slipped through? I file away that thought for later, focused on getting to Oziel right now.
“We can’t let you in. King’s orders.” The demon places his hands on my shoulders to push me back. “Please, ma’am—”
“I’m your fucking queen,” I snap, smacking his hands away. This time they fall to the guard’s sides, his beady black eyes boring into me. The guard takes me in, maybe for the first time, and recognition flickers across his features before it is replaced with unease.
The demon bows. “My queen, I apologize,” he says hastily. When he straightens back up, I’m prepared for him to move aside. But he doesn’t move. If anything, he stays firm in his position. “The king would want you safe. You must go.”
A scream rings out, followed by loud cracking that jostles the foundation. It provides me enough of a distraction to sprint past the first guard, but my victory is short-lived. Hands grab my wrist, nearly yanking my arm out of its socket, pulling me back into a hard chest.
“No! Let me fucking go!” I thrash, kicking out wildly and trying to free my hands. The iron grip on me only tightens.
“My queen, you must stop!” an unfamiliar female voice shouts. A demon guard stands only a few feet away from us, something akin to pity coloring his features. If demons could be remorseful, I imagine they’d look like him.
He takes a step forward, brows drawn together. “Melisanda, perhaps we should—”
“No!” snaps the female—Melisanda—holding me. “We were given orders, Borzon, and no one can defy the king.”
“But she’s the queen,” Borzon argues.
The hands around me loosen slightly, though not enough for me to break free of Melisanda’s iron grip.
The demon pauses, clearly weighing her options.
I may be their queen, but I’m not truly one of them.
I bruise easier. Break faster. But I’m still the queen; hopefully my voice carries the same weight as Oziel’s.
“She’s human, Borzon. She can't defend herself. Oziel wouldn’t want her in there. She’ll only be a distraction,” Melisanda barks, confirming the fears swirling around in my head.
Before either Borzon or I can say more, another loud scream comes from the ballroom, followed by the sound of a large body hitting the floor. Then…silence. Deadly quiet that speeds up my heart, spreading unease.
Then comes a roar—deep, ferocious, and raw—that nearly drives me to my knees and sends me spiraling.
“ISABELLE!”
My name explodes through the air, a thunderclap that shakes the very walls.
The sheer force of Oziel’s voice sends a shiver down my spine, the desperation in it cutting through the chaos like a blade.
Melisanda’s grip falters. Just for a second.
But it’s enough. I rip free, lungs burning as I bolt toward the ballroom. I don’t dare hesitate.
I have to find Oziel.
The ballroom is free of partygoers. Tables of food and wine are turned over.
Food and shattered glass litter the floor.
A burning blaze catches my attention. Blue flames burn brightly.
Upon first look, the flames seem to be coming from charred wood.
But a slight twitch to the body tells me it’s not wood at all.
A Nephilim is burning. How the hell did the Nephilim get here?
And right in front of it, on his knees with his back toward me, is Oziel.
Oziel’s body is on fire too; blue flames lick at his skin. Unlike the Nephilim, Oziel isn’t burning. No, his flames cling to him, waiting for their next move, as if he is their master. I suppose he is. I’ve seen many facets of my husband, but never have I seen him look so…like a demon.
Perhaps I should be scared. My pulse races, but not out of fear. Out of a carnal need residing deep in my soul.
“Oziel.”
My voice is the hammer that shatters the glass.
Oziel’s flames leave him, replaced by his familiar shadows.
He stands, turning slowly. His once pristine suit is slightly charred and untucked.
What are normally gold eyes are a bright, crimson red.
His body is pulled to mine. It’s not so much a walk as it is a glide.
“Isabelle,” he purrs, his voice not entirely his own because he doesn’t seem to be in control of himself. Too gruff and deep, a sound that goes straight to my clit.
I’m enjoying this far too much. Probably not the reaction I should have to my husband just single-handedly taking down a Nephilim—and I still don’t know how it got in here.
“I’m here. I’m safe. You’re safe.” I speak the words to know they are true.
Oziel closes the space between us, reaching for me, his hand going around my neck in a tight grip and pulling me to his chest. I don’t argue, just let myself be pulled. Maybe he needs to feel me just as much as I need to feel him.
“Oziel, I—” My words are swallowed by his lips. Harsh, punishing lips claim my mouth. I’ve no other option but to submit.
The moment my lips part, Oziel’s tongue possesses my mouth. I moan, or he does. I’m not certain anymore. I kiss him back with just as much frenzy, realizing for the first time just how truly fearful I was of losing him. I never wanted to get this hung up on some guy.
But Oziel has proven himself not to be some guy.
He’s a demon king. He’s crude, rough and frequently infuriating.
But he’s also passionate, loyal, and gentle when he wants to be.
He knows my darkness, but instead of running away from it, he embraces it.
Lets me embrace it. I’ve never been a conventional woman, always attracted to the wrong thing, but Oziel doesn’t feel wrong.
He feels right.
“I want you, Wife.” His deep purr makes me shiver.
My body is already hot with need for him.
Oziel still isn’t himself. He’s dirty and bloody.
More demon than I have ever seen him, and yet I’ve never wanted him more.
I think he needs me to feel grounded and to gain back his self-control.
There’s still so much pent-up energy within him, begging to be let out. Begging for an outlet.
“Take me.” My voice is breathy, far needier than I intend. That seems to please Oziel. The corners of his lips pull into a sinister smile, and I know this man is about to ruin me. He squeezes my neck, and I gasp, arching into his touch.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down and licking a line from my ear to my neck.
It shouldn’t feel as good as it does, but wetness pools between my thighs.
With his head still close to my neck, he shouts for the guards behind us, the ones I nearly forgot were here.
“Dispose of the body.” His demand is met with affirmatives from his guards.
Oziel pays them little mind. His shadows wrap around us, caressing my skin like silk.
The world around us fades away, and everything goes quiet.
A moment later, the shadows disperse, leaving us completely, and Oziel stumbles, clearly using up the last of his reserve power.
We’re no longer in the ballroom, but rather the shower chambers.
No one else is in here, which is good because, while Oziel may be fine with public sex, I’m not certain I’m there yet.
“Such a fucking beautiful dress,” he says before flicking his hand and removing my dress without touching me. Perhaps he had a little more shadow magic left in him.
“Nice trick,” I say breathlessly.
Oziel does the same to himself, and soon he stands before me in all his naked glory.
His body tightens, and my gaze lowers to his hard cock pressing against his stomach.
His eyes drink me in, and he circles me like a lion stalking a little lamb.
A shiver goes down my spine because Oziel’s monster is out.
And his focus is on one thing and one thing only:
Me.