Standing outside the study door, Jasmyn stifled her giggle behind her palm. The idea of the huge hulk of a warrior standing with his father actually taking the time to chase a frog down to stick in her bed was hilarious. As the daughter of Bilé, play wasnt allowed. She was to be mean, evil and nastier than any other demoness alive. But she wasnt. Her body might be half-demoness thanks to her mother, one of Bilés many concubines, but her soul wanted and needed joy and laughter - not pain and suffering.
She despised her demoness nature and instead focused on her need for more light-hearted things her godly nature wanted. Her only concession, and at her fathers insistence that she should be proud of her demoness heritage, was to let her horns and runes show while she was in the Underworld. But in all other ways she was godly. Even the dark golden tone of her skin could be mistaken for that of a Native American but never as a trait of a demoness.
"You might as well stop lurking outside the door, child." Cayleigh detached herself from the men.
Drat she mustve heard me giggle damn her demoness hearing. Gathering her courage around her like a shroud, Jasmyn entered, and then stood waiting for the God of War and his son to speak. Digging her fingers into the only garment she wore, she wished shed taken the other demonesss offer of more appropriate earthly clothing. The traditional thin linen shift which hung from her ample hips was more than adequate in the intense heat and humidity of the underworld. But not here in England-here she was downright cold. On the Earthly plane, her shift wasnt enough to ward off the chill to her lower extremities, let alone her bare chest. Don't they have their heat on?
She knew she had to be a sight to see standing with her skin drawn tight with gooseflesh and her dark raspberry-hued nipples sticking out from her torso like little bullets. Even though her father insisted she hide her linage while topside as to not stick out, shed assumed her ruby red horns and ever-present lavender runes marking her lineage would be accepted here because of Cayleighs presence.
Evidently she was wrong as she watched the tall warrior react to her. Now she wished shed taken her mother up on the masking lessons that shed wanted to teach her before shed left. She thought shed have time with Cayleigh to learn them. Apparently that decision was a huge mistake on her part.
Kennet's body went rigid. Wetting her lips she shifted her weight, uncertain of why he was so upset by her presence. Surely they told him he would be protecting me. Anger simmered deep in her gut when he ignored her and focused on his dad.
"You didn't tell me I was going to have to assume my duties right now. I just got off a damned mission! You couldve at least given me time to clean up before having to deal with a cursed demoness."
"I dont appreciate being ambushed like this."
His nostrils flared. The arm which had just been wrapped around Cayleighs waist was now folded along with its mate across his massive chest. It was a classic Mexican stand-off between the two men. She couldnt have felt more like an interloper if she tried. Hellsfire, he couldnt have made his displeasure at being saddled with me anymore apparent. For a moment she considered refusing the God of Wars offer of protection and saying screw it to the dangers waiting for her at home.
Despite Kennet's obvious displeasure, the delicious scent of sweet sandalwood and spicy clove reached her, telling her something shed never dreamed shed have. He's a potential TrueMate. The potent lure of destiny would keep her at his side until he either was able to force her submission or failed. Inside her the clock began tick. Damnation! Of all the times - I dont need this right now! Not only is my demoness nose telling me hes possibly the one, my godling side has just put a time limit on it. Why did I have to get blessed with two rituals instead of one?
She straightened her shoulders before moving further into the room. Ignoring the fact his gaze was now focused on her bare torso she fell back on her fathers training. I'll be polite even if it kills me . "Nor do I appreciate being ambushed, Mr. Baghadur. I was expecting to find an honorable warrior who would do his father's name proud and at least take the threat to my safety seriously."
The curl of his upper lip and the disgust in his eyes sent all of her honorable intentions out the door. He has no reason to be treating me like I'm something he found on the bottom of his shoe. Instead I end up with a whiny little boy. Lucky me! She turned her gaze to Camulos, intent on fighting fire with fire. Two can play this game. "If this is what you have to offer as my means of protection, perhaps I am better off at my fathers side. Ive heard that your younger son is a true berserker in battle."
A low rumble filled the room. For a brief moment she thought, perhaps, shed gone too far, said too much, or even insulted the God of War. With a sudden flash of insight, she was shocked beyond words to realize the sound came from his son.
"I'm more than capable of protecting you, demoness!" In the blink of an eye, he was standing so close that a mere breath separated them. "There will be no better protector for you. Do you know why?'
Her heart raced but she forced herself to stay calm. Losing her composure in front of him wasnt an option. "Because you have an enlarged ego to go with that massive body of yours? Or you think Im some poor little demoness that has been sent to serve you?" Even as the words left her mouth, she wondered why she wasnt appalled. It wasnt like her to act like this. She never went for the jugular as she was with this man, but couldnt find any shame in her responses. Perhaps its because of the blessed rituals tearing me apart.
He leaned down until his nose nearly touched hers before taking in a deep sniff. Fear and anticipation racked her. His dark blue eyes locked with hers as he slowly enunciated his answer.
"Youll serve me not because you're a demoness, but because youre my TrueMate"
©Dakota Trace All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.