Wicked Abyss
Page 72
A spray of reptile blood and bits of gristle spattered her shirt.
The demon had looked surprised when she’d laughed it off and named the puppy Sneezy. She’d named each of the other pack members after one of the seven dwarves as well.
Abyssian mused, “I don’t know why those dwarves are noteworthy among other dwarves, aside from their ridiculous names.”
“Ridiculous, huh?” She ripped off her soaked shirt and flung it onto one of Sian’s horns like a ringtoss.
His response to that: “Run.”
She and the demon did have fun together. Among his other roles—as a hell guide and bedmate—he was becoming her best friend.
Abyssian had turned out to be playful, off-the-charts intelligent, protective, and sexier than any male she’d ever encountered.
A hell demon with a raspy voice and a downright sinful tongue.
If only they didn’t have so many barriers between them. The Møriør. Rune. Her background and lies. Their species. The prospect of dark fey children.
Abyssian might not be bedding other demonesses, but that didn’t mean he wanted to bring banebloods into the world. He’d made his thoughts on that clear. Yet she still longed to have children. Would Rune target them—
Bambi slowed. With another glance back at her, it took a sharp left—into a wall. The fawn disappeared as though sucked into the stone.
Lila raised her hand to the wall. Instead of solid rock, air met her palms. An illusion concealed a hidden doorway.
Squaring her shoulders, she passed through the opening.
Pitch blackness greeted her. Even her immortal eyesight couldn’t penetrate it. “Oh, hell no.” She turned back, colliding face-first into stone. “Ow! Fucker.”
She was trapped.
Abyssian had told her he believed the castle liked her, but what if it didn’t? Had Lila just made a fatal error?
Clickety-clack, clickety-clack.
The tiny hairs on her nape rose. She had no choice but to follow the sound. As she fumbled through the dark, the passageway ascended for what felt like miles. . . .
Her ears twitched again. She could hear Abyssian’s voice! The fawn disappeared, just as Lila spied a muted light shining from ahead.
She eased closer, discovering a secret nook that overlooked the throne room. The castle had wanted her here! Though a screen concealed her, she could see below.
Abyssian leaned against a wall, drinking from a flask. Uthyr the dragon slept, his body and tail stretching the length of the room. A stacked brunette with pale, luminous skin and bright hazel eyes slouched in Lila’s throne. Her legs were crossed over an armrest. She wore a miniskirt and combat boots.
A tall male with fangs, pointed ears, and long black hair sat in Abyssian’s throne. A bow was strapped over the male’s back, a quiver around his leg.
Lila stifled a gasp. The fey-slayer.
Rune the Baneblood was here. The star of her nightmares. Her heart pounded so loudly she feared they could hear it.
She’d never seen a dark fey in person before. He was lean, his build similar to Abyssian’s. His eyes were magenta, his features roughhewn. But altogether he was moderately attractive. Tattoos marked his tanned skin, a band of them encircling one of his wrists.
The arrows in his leg quiver looked color-coded. Which arrow decimated armies? Better question: which one didn’t?
That female must be Rune’s mate, Josephine—the halfling with all the abilities.
Lila had known the archer would show up sooner or later, but had hoped on years later.
Josephine asked Abyssian, “Is your chick pretty?”
“Calliope Infernas is exquisite,” he replied. They’re discussing me? Was this why Graven had led Lila here?
Or had the castle wanted her to face her fear?
Rune didn’t appear so otherworldly and ominous right now. He looked like a regular guy—one who needed a shave and could barely keep his eyes off his mate.
Lila’s feelings toward the Møriør had been a mix of resentment and terror. With a mystical castle on her side, that terror dwindled. . . .
“What’s her personality like?” Rune asked. “Uthyr spoke of a fiery temperament.”
“Her temper is as sharp as her intellect—and her ears,” Abyssian said, his tone proud. “She’s a firebrand.”
Lila had never seen him juxtaposed against humanoid beings. As she gazed over his horns, claws, and wings, tenderness bloomed in her chest. She was growing to love everything that made him demonic.
She’d gotten used to sleeping in the protection of those remarkable wings. They were soft on the inside and deadly everywhere else.
Like Abyssian could be. . . .
“Why don’t you let me go talk to her?” Josephine said. “I hated all of you freaks at first, but now I tolerate you. And if I can, anybody can.”
Lila kind of liked this girl.
“She wouldn’t want to meet anyone connected to a Møriør.” Abyssian traced to take a seat on the dais steps—instead of commanding Rune to vacate his throne. A testament to their friendship. “Not yet at least. It will take time.”
“Good news, brother,” Rune said, “we’ve got nothing but time.”
Uthyr’s tail twitched, and he growled in sleep.
Josephine murmured to Rune, “Hey, sport, watch this.” She waved her hand in the dragon’s direction.
Uthyr immediately scratched his earflap.
“Worth the trip to hell, right there.” Was the female using telekinesis to screw with the Møriør’s almighty dragon?
Abyssian raised his brows. “Surely you’ve heard the saying: Never wake a sleeping dragon.”
Rune apparently hadn’t. “Do it again, Josie.”
She did. When Uthyr scratched and smacked his chops, Lila found herself almost grinning. They all seemed so deceptively normal. Too bad one of them has vowed to murder me.
Another wave of Josephine’s hand.
Uthyr scratched so hard that scales popped off, pinwheeling in the air.
The halfling and Rune cracked up. Even Abyssian laughed.
Rune turned to him. “I haven’t heard you laugh since you took the throne.” Tracing to sit beside Abyssian, Rune clamped his shoulder, the two demonstrating such an easy camaraderie. “Like I said, your female is already affecting you.”
Lila thought back to some of the first times she’d heard the demon laugh. He’d definitely seemed rusty at it. No longer.
The demon had looked surprised when she’d laughed it off and named the puppy Sneezy. She’d named each of the other pack members after one of the seven dwarves as well.
Abyssian mused, “I don’t know why those dwarves are noteworthy among other dwarves, aside from their ridiculous names.”
“Ridiculous, huh?” She ripped off her soaked shirt and flung it onto one of Sian’s horns like a ringtoss.
His response to that: “Run.”
She and the demon did have fun together. Among his other roles—as a hell guide and bedmate—he was becoming her best friend.
Abyssian had turned out to be playful, off-the-charts intelligent, protective, and sexier than any male she’d ever encountered.
A hell demon with a raspy voice and a downright sinful tongue.
If only they didn’t have so many barriers between them. The Møriør. Rune. Her background and lies. Their species. The prospect of dark fey children.
Abyssian might not be bedding other demonesses, but that didn’t mean he wanted to bring banebloods into the world. He’d made his thoughts on that clear. Yet she still longed to have children. Would Rune target them—
Bambi slowed. With another glance back at her, it took a sharp left—into a wall. The fawn disappeared as though sucked into the stone.
Lila raised her hand to the wall. Instead of solid rock, air met her palms. An illusion concealed a hidden doorway.
Squaring her shoulders, she passed through the opening.
Pitch blackness greeted her. Even her immortal eyesight couldn’t penetrate it. “Oh, hell no.” She turned back, colliding face-first into stone. “Ow! Fucker.”
She was trapped.
Abyssian had told her he believed the castle liked her, but what if it didn’t? Had Lila just made a fatal error?
Clickety-clack, clickety-clack.
The tiny hairs on her nape rose. She had no choice but to follow the sound. As she fumbled through the dark, the passageway ascended for what felt like miles. . . .
Her ears twitched again. She could hear Abyssian’s voice! The fawn disappeared, just as Lila spied a muted light shining from ahead.
She eased closer, discovering a secret nook that overlooked the throne room. The castle had wanted her here! Though a screen concealed her, she could see below.
Abyssian leaned against a wall, drinking from a flask. Uthyr the dragon slept, his body and tail stretching the length of the room. A stacked brunette with pale, luminous skin and bright hazel eyes slouched in Lila’s throne. Her legs were crossed over an armrest. She wore a miniskirt and combat boots.
A tall male with fangs, pointed ears, and long black hair sat in Abyssian’s throne. A bow was strapped over the male’s back, a quiver around his leg.
Lila stifled a gasp. The fey-slayer.
Rune the Baneblood was here. The star of her nightmares. Her heart pounded so loudly she feared they could hear it.
She’d never seen a dark fey in person before. He was lean, his build similar to Abyssian’s. His eyes were magenta, his features roughhewn. But altogether he was moderately attractive. Tattoos marked his tanned skin, a band of them encircling one of his wrists.
The arrows in his leg quiver looked color-coded. Which arrow decimated armies? Better question: which one didn’t?
That female must be Rune’s mate, Josephine—the halfling with all the abilities.
Lila had known the archer would show up sooner or later, but had hoped on years later.
Josephine asked Abyssian, “Is your chick pretty?”
“Calliope Infernas is exquisite,” he replied. They’re discussing me? Was this why Graven had led Lila here?
Or had the castle wanted her to face her fear?
Rune didn’t appear so otherworldly and ominous right now. He looked like a regular guy—one who needed a shave and could barely keep his eyes off his mate.
Lila’s feelings toward the Møriør had been a mix of resentment and terror. With a mystical castle on her side, that terror dwindled. . . .
“What’s her personality like?” Rune asked. “Uthyr spoke of a fiery temperament.”
“Her temper is as sharp as her intellect—and her ears,” Abyssian said, his tone proud. “She’s a firebrand.”
Lila had never seen him juxtaposed against humanoid beings. As she gazed over his horns, claws, and wings, tenderness bloomed in her chest. She was growing to love everything that made him demonic.
She’d gotten used to sleeping in the protection of those remarkable wings. They were soft on the inside and deadly everywhere else.
Like Abyssian could be. . . .
“Why don’t you let me go talk to her?” Josephine said. “I hated all of you freaks at first, but now I tolerate you. And if I can, anybody can.”
Lila kind of liked this girl.
“She wouldn’t want to meet anyone connected to a Møriør.” Abyssian traced to take a seat on the dais steps—instead of commanding Rune to vacate his throne. A testament to their friendship. “Not yet at least. It will take time.”
“Good news, brother,” Rune said, “we’ve got nothing but time.”
Uthyr’s tail twitched, and he growled in sleep.
Josephine murmured to Rune, “Hey, sport, watch this.” She waved her hand in the dragon’s direction.
Uthyr immediately scratched his earflap.
“Worth the trip to hell, right there.” Was the female using telekinesis to screw with the Møriør’s almighty dragon?
Abyssian raised his brows. “Surely you’ve heard the saying: Never wake a sleeping dragon.”
Rune apparently hadn’t. “Do it again, Josie.”
She did. When Uthyr scratched and smacked his chops, Lila found herself almost grinning. They all seemed so deceptively normal. Too bad one of them has vowed to murder me.
Another wave of Josephine’s hand.
Uthyr scratched so hard that scales popped off, pinwheeling in the air.
The halfling and Rune cracked up. Even Abyssian laughed.
Rune turned to him. “I haven’t heard you laugh since you took the throne.” Tracing to sit beside Abyssian, Rune clamped his shoulder, the two demonstrating such an easy camaraderie. “Like I said, your female is already affecting you.”
Lila thought back to some of the first times she’d heard the demon laugh. He’d definitely seemed rusty at it. No longer.
