The Warlock Who Hungered for a Demon

Mate or Meal 14

The Warlock Who Hungered for a

Demon

Disgrace or devotion? Plagued by the choices in his past, warlock

Noah Hall cannot allow himself to claim Rhys Whitaker, the man—

the incubus—he loves. He sees himself as a killer, having played a

significant part in his own father’s death. Torn between shame,

reason, and desire, Noah lingers in a platonic friendship that hurts

them both, but that neither of them is willing to abandon.

Rhys has loved and desired Noah since the very moment he met

the warlock. He knows that Noah is his other half, but when the

other man rejects him, Rhys can do nothing else but respect

Noah’s wishes.

When Noah’s dark secret comes out, Rhys is crushed. In the midst

of a conflict between races, their fragile relationship threatens to

be overcome. Can Noah let go of his doubts and protect his mate?

Can Rhys heal Noah’s wounds in time to save them both?

Genre:
Alternative (M/M or F/F), Paranormal

Length:
35,823 words

THE WARLOCK WHO

HUNGERED FOR A DEMON

Mate or Meal 14

Scarlet Hyacinth

EROTIC ROMANCE

MANLOVE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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IMPRINT: Erotic Romance ManLove

THE WARLOCK WHO HUNGERED FOR A DEMON

Copyright © 2012 by Scarlet Hyacinth

E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-504-5

First E-book Publication: October 2012

Cover design by Jinger Heaston

All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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The Warlock Who Hungered for a

Demon
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THE WARLOCK WHO

HUNGERED FOR A DEMON

Mate or Meal 14

SCARLET HYACINTH

Copyright © 2012

Pain. Mind-numbing, nerve-wracking agony assaulted Rhys,

piercing through every inch of his skin, making his limbs heavy and

his vision dim. He lay collapsed on a hard, cold floor, unable to move,

his incubus senses attacked by the horrible emotions permeating his

current location.

Distantly, Rhys acknowledged the fact that he should have never

come here. There was too much hate in this place, and Tyrell Hall was

far too wicked for one incubus to take on. But he’d been so very

angry at Tyrell’s interference in their lives. He’d known then that

Tyrell had most likely been involved, at least in the planning stages,

with the attack at the United Paranormal Academy that had disfigured

Alexis and nearly separated the younger incubus from his mate. He’d

wanted to stop the warlock from doing anything like that ever again.

He’s wanted to protect his brothers. He’d failed.

Who would take care of his siblings now? Chantay’s parents

loved him, but they’d placed a heavy burden on him since Chantay

and Rhys’s father, Romaine, had been involved with the plot against

the shifters. And what about Alexis? The younger incubus might have

a mate who cared about him, but he’d been thrust in a world not his

8

Scarlet Hyacinth

own, and he was raising a child at an age when he should still be

learning how to appropriately use his powers. Not to mention that

Rhys worried Alexis would soon be with child again, something his

body might not be ready for.

Unfortunately, for the moment, his concern for his own well-being

had to take precedence. Rhys curled into a tight ball, the hunger for

sexual emotions holding him tightly within its grasp. He did sense

some sexual episodes going on in the building, but the distance kept

him from using them for feeding. It was true that the lust coming from

them wasn’t pure, but rather tainted with something darker. Even so,

Rhys would have used anything at all at this point. He was desperate

and hated himself for it.

When he heard the door open, Rhys was half terrified, half

relieved. A part of him just wanted this torture over. The man-child

guilty of Rhys’s plight now approached, and he obviously planned on

killing Rhys. Rhys could feel it in the emotions now invading the

room, coming from the warlock.

“Well, well. It looks like our sleeping beauty hasn’t surrendered to

eternal slumber just yet.” A chuckle sounded. The footsteps resonated

against the floor as Tyrell approached. The warlock leaned over Rhys

and gripped his chin, forcing Rhys to look at him. “Look at you. So

lost in your hunger. You know, out of all magical creatures, incubi are

my favorites. You might be beasts like shifters, but you’re certainly

lovely enough to compensate for the lack. Too bad I can’t use it. I’d

have loved to explore your beauty, your lust.”

Rhys counted his blessings for that since he was well aware his

body would have accepted any touch, even one his mind rebelled

against. Even now, pleas were ready on his lips. Tyrell was only a

boy, so his form held no appeal to Rhys, but the guard who’d come

with Tyrell was a different matter altogether.

With heavy-lidded eyes, Rhys gazed at the man, licking his lips.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have touched the guy with

a seven-foot pole, but he could feel the desire pouring off him, aimed

The Warlock Who Hungered for a Demon

9

directly at Rhys, intoxicating, like a drug. His body responded to that

lust, even if everything else screamed at him to shy away, to hide, to

cover himself.

Fortunately, Tyrell didn’t seem inclined to allow Rhys’s hunger to

be sated. He threw an ugly look toward the guard. “Get out. Just your

presence is feeding him.”

After throwing one last look Rhys’s way, the underling fled. Rhys

experienced a deep pang of loss, but it was combined with an even

more intense relief. He might die here, but at least he’d have kept his

dignity and not spread his legs for all the guards in Tyrell Hall’s

prison.

“I know you want it, little incubus,” the warlock said, “but you’ll

just have to suffer without it. That’s the price you pay for going

against me. Now, I have other matters to deal with. This might well

be the last time we see each other. Enjoy your stay in the afterlife.”

Before Rhys could even figure out what Tyrell meant by that, the

man-child left the room, abandoning Rhys there. It wasn’t hard to

figure out that Tyrell intended to let Rhys starve to death. It was the

worst way to go for an incubus, and by the end, Rhys would give just

about anything to feel a sexual touch.

A tear slid over Rhys’s cheek, burning his oversensitized skin as it

fell. There were so many things he hadn’t done. He’d had lovers, yes,

but he’d never found his soul mate, that one person meant for him.

He’d wanted to meet that person so desperately, to start a family, and

perhaps to mend the rift between the Whitakers and the Arceneaus.

His dream had been to one day sit at a celebratory dinner table with

his mate, his father, and his sire with him, his brothers joining him,

and perhaps, a child growing inside him. So many wishes that would

never come true now.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when, out of the blue, the

door opened again. Instantly, Rhys knew it wasn’t Tyrell or any of his