Tempted by a Rogue Prince (13 page)

Vail tamped down his urge to snarl and bare his fangs at the manipulative demon king.

No one controlled him. Not anymore.

The two guards dropped back and Vail approached him, keeping his posture relaxed even as he calculated his chances of successfully launching an attack on the burly demon king.

The larger male strolled along the aisle towards him, his long black leather-clad legs easily eating up the distance between them. Obsidian dragon-like wings rested furled against his bare back.

The king wore no crown. Another attempt to appear friendly, as if they were of equal standing.

Vail failed to see how that was possible. This male was far beneath him, a youngling demon playing at being a king. Even if this man ruled for millennia and conquered every demon realm, Vail would still refuse to view him as an equal.

He tipped his chin up and looked down his nose at the male who stood at the same height as him. King Bruan’s six-feet-six frame was far broader than Vail’s, and thickly muscled, but his physical strength wouldn’t be the determining factor in a fight between them. Vail was strong now with Rosalind’s blood flowing through him, and with the restoration of his physical strength came the restoration of his psychic powers.

Vail could crush King Bruan like a bug with his telekinesis alone.

Only the infernal magic-laced cuffs were stopping him from doing so right now.

“You wished to talk?” Vail said in the demon tongue and swept his gaze over the demon king from head to toe and back again, searching for any physical weaknesses he could use against him.

The king seemed in prime condition, and with Vail’s powers bound by his restraints and two demons watching his every move, he wouldn’t win against him if he attacked him. Not yet.

For now, he would have to settle for seeing what the king wanted with him and using the inevitable walk back to his cell to continue searching out weak spots in the fortress and possible escape routes.

“I have considered what you said and perhaps you are right and blackmailing your brother into an alliance is not the path to take.” King Bruan’s green eyes flashed brightly, a twisted edge to his smile that Vail didn’t like. The male flicked his long black braid over his muscled shoulder and moved a step closer. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I want to kill your brother for his part in the war and deal a blow to the elves.”

Vail gave no reaction to that announcement. He schooled his features and waited, knowing Bruan wasn’t done. The king wanted him to react, to ask what he intended to do. He was playing Vail and testing his allegiance, and if he questioned Bruan, the king would know he had lied about wanting Loren dead.

As much as he despised the vile demon, he had to play along and gain the king’s trust. Eventually, the king would give him more freedom, and with it would come an opportunity to escape.

And then, Vail would kill him.

King Bruan flared his wings and then furled them against his back. He signalled to one of the guards.

Not one of the guards, Vail realised as an oily slick slithered over his skin. Magic. The sudden increase announced a witch had entered the great hall. The magic smothered him, growing stronger as she approached, threatening to strip him of his sanity. He clung to it, unwilling to lose it now when he needed it most. He had to remain lucid. He couldn’t allow the king to see his weakness. The male would exploit it.

He would use the witch against him.

Make her touch him.

The oily slick on his skin became twin patches that moved over his body, roamed it like hands caressing him, and shifted to form fingers that stroked and danced lower. He shuddered and closed his eyes, forced his mind away from the magic and reached for something to steady him.

Little Wild Rose danced into his mind, all of nature in her wake, green and colourful and beautiful.

Her eyes met his, the colour of clear morning skies spotted with stars, and warmth flowed over his skin, burning away the dark stains of black magic that marred it.

Vail opened his eyes and fixed them on King Bruan, shutting out the blonde witch as she handed the demon a clay mug. The male lifted the vessel to his lips, took a great gulp of the sweet smelling liquid, and lowered it again. He rubbed his other hand across the back of his mouth and held the mug out to Vail.

“We will have a bargain, you and I. You will help me defeat your own flesh and blood, or I will use you to lure him out and take his head in front of you, as the demon king did to my brother.”

Vail raised his cuffed wrists and snatched the mug of mead from King Bruan’s grip. He knocked back the contents, the potent alcohol rushing straight to his head and threatening to send him to his knees, and tossed the mug. It smashed on the stone flags near the witch and she scowled at him, her dark eyes becoming spotted with bright crimson.

He bared his fangs at her.

King Bruan could go to the very bottom of the fiery pit of Hell where all dark souls went after death and Vail would personally escort him there.

The demon male had made two mistakes.

One, Vail refused to be an instrument of revenge against his brother. He had vowed never to hurt Loren again, and would do all in his power to keep that promise and keep him and his people safe.

Two, he would never carry out orders against his will again. No one could command him now. He would never subject himself to the rule of others. He was free, the master of himself again, and King Bruan would realise that when he carried out the plan that had just come to him.

He would play the loyal mad elf prince to this wretched demon, vowing to kill his brother, and when he had gained the king’s trust and more freedom, he would escape and send word to Loren. Once he had warned his beloved brother, he would kill Bruan and turn the wrath of the demons of this realm upon him, drawing it away from Loren and the elves.

He would sacrifice himself for the sake of his brother and his people.

It was the least he could do to make amends for his sins.

There was only one flaw in his plan. One complication.

Little Wild Rose.

He would have to find a way to get her to safety and away from the demons before he could carry out his plan to kill their king. He would have to know that she was safe or he wouldn’t have the strength to face death and embrace it. He would feel compelled to remain with her and protect her.

He would beg his brother to show her mercy and give her shelter, protecting her in his stead. Loren was more capable of protecting her than he was. His brother would take care of her, would treat her well and ensure her happiness.

Vail couldn’t do such a thing.

If she remained near him, he would eventually hurt her, or worse. The thought of coming out of a black rage to find his claws dripping with her blood stopped him cold and froze his heart.

“You accept my terms?” King Bruan said, pulling him away from thoughts of his fated female and back to reality, to the presence of a dark witch.

The blonde watched him closely, suspicion colouring her dark eyes.

“Do as you please,” Vail said in the demon tongue. “As long as Loren finally dies by my hand.”

Bruan’s expression darkened. “And why should you have that honour?”

Vail snarled, the feral sound rumbling through the cavernous room. The witch took a step back, placing King Bruan between her and Vail, and it was hard to stop himself from attacking her, even when he was at a disadvantage. He forced his focus back to Bruan.

“Because I have been waiting to kill my brother for forty-two centuries so I can seize the throne,” Vail bit out and advanced a step, closing the distance between him and the king, and flashed his fangs as he grinned. “If you allow me to be the one to kill Loren, you will have a powerful ally in the elves when I take the throne back.”

Bruan stared at him in silence. It pressed down on Vail and doubts surfaced. He held his expression and the king’s green gaze, unwilling to allow the male to see beyond his veil of fury and hunger for power to the unsettled feeling growing inside him. He would succeed in his plan. He would convince this wretched demon to give him more freedom and then he would bring the kingdom down on his head.

“I will need time to consider your request.” Bruan signalled the two guards and they marched forwards, coming to flank Vail. “Take him back to his cell.”

Vail held the king’s gaze, silently challenging him and refusing to back down. Demons respected strength, both physical and mental. He would give the king reason to respect him.

“I will be the one to kill my brother. Only then can I claim the throne and no one will stop me from achieving that which I desire. I have not fought Loren for four thousand years for a demon to snatch this victory from my grasp.” Vail moved another step closer and stared down at the king. “Give me my victory and I give you an army of elves, and the power to take any demon kingdom you desire.”

He turned away before Bruan could form a response and strode down the aisle, heading straight for the arched door at the end. The two guards hurried to catch up with him and Vail breathed slowly, steadying his heart to stop it from racing. Either he had just earned himself another brutal round of torture at their hands, or he had earned the respect of their king.

The game was afoot and the next move belonged to Bruan.

N
ature swirled around him, pushing back the darkness and the nightmares, drawing him into the light. Vail breathed deep of the floral scent, taking the sweet elixir down into his lungs, desperate to use it to ward off the memories that had swamped him the moment he had closed his eyes.

A soft melody enchanted him, the sound of her voice giving him comfort the likes of which he hadn’t felt in over four thousand years.

Little Wild Rose.

She was close to him, her proximity offering him peace and respite from his nightmares, keeping the memories at bay.

A male voice joined hers.

The incubus.

Anger curled through him, a possessive rage that swiftly claimed control and urged him to tear Rosalind away from the bars of his cell and kill the male.

Vail tried to rise from where he slept and snarled as chains held him in place. Shackles meant to weaken him. He growled and fought his bonds, uncaring of the fact that the thick metal cuffs sliced into his wrists and pain seared his bones. All that mattered was reaching his female and keeping the male away from her.

He needed to get her away from the incubus.

He needed to kill him.

He hissed and bared his fangs as they punched long from his gums. His ears flared back against the sides of his head.

His eyes opened and locked on the male.

Vail growled at him and fought his bonds, pulling hard on the chains that held him. His blood flowed over his hands, making his grip slick, but it wouldn’t stop him. He would break free and destroy the incubus. He dug his fingertips into the links of the thick chain and roared as he arched his back and threw all of his strength into his next pull.

“Keep away from him,” the male said and Vail lost it.

He wrestled with his bonds, using every last drop of his strength to fight them, determined to break free. The cursed male meant to lure Little Wild Rose away from him.

He meant to take her from him.

Darkness loomed inside him, eating away the light, destroying it as it rampaged through his body and unleashed the part of him he didn’t want her to see. The part of him he needed in order to escape his wretched bonds and kill the male.

Vail embraced it, snarled as he lost himself in it, and laughed as he yanked harder on the chain.

The incubus would pay for his attempt to steal what was his. Little Wild Rose belong to him now. He would destroy the male, would bathe his claws in the wretch’s blood and tear him limb from limb with his bare hands, and then he would claim the female.

She belonged to him now.

All would know it.

Vail arched off the stone slab again and roared as he grasped the chain and pulled on it, felt it start to give even as his body did the same, pain ripping through his every muscle and searing his bones.

He dimly heard her soft voice through the rush of blood in his ears and the fierce drumming of his heart.

She spoke with the male.

Vail fought harder, yanking on the restraints. He would kill the male and then he would claim his Little Wild Rose and she would know she belonged to him. She would never betray him again.

Her voice came again.

His muscles twanged and pain shot through him, tearing him apart and turning his limbs rubbery. He collapsed onto the slab, breathing hard and shaking all over, the chain falling from his weakening grip. He snarled under his breath and tried to grasp the chain and keep fighting, but he could barely shift his wrists and couldn’t move enough to pull the chain tight.

Her light soft voice came once more, and it was clearer this time. She was close.

“Vail.” His name fell from her lips and he sensed her warmth near his forehead.

Not touching him, but hovering close.

He cracked his eyes open and unclenched his aching jaw.

“Vail?” she whispered again and he blinked slowly, lost in her glittering blue eyes. “Why did you hurt yourself? Was it another bad dream?”

“Why?” he croaked, frowning at her, the answer eluding him. Why had he hurt himself? He had fought the bonds because he had wanted to reach her. He had wanted to protect her. From what? His jaw clenched again and he turned his face away from her, to his left and the male in the cell there. He bared his fangs at him.

The witch looked at him too.

Vail turned his growl on her.

“I thought we went through this?” Fenix said. “I’m mated. I’m not interested in your female.”

Little Wild Rose gasped and looked down at Vail.

He averted his gaze, staring at the dirty stone floor of his cell, not wanting her to see in his eyes the reason he had lost his head.

What was wrong with him? He didn’t want the female. She was a witch. Witches were cruel, manipulative, and traitorous. She would use the spell she had cast on him against him, forcing him to do her bidding. She would betray him.