Claimed by a Demon King Read Free Page B

held them out to her.
    Sable swallowed her guilt and took them from him. She slipped the blades away beneath her arms and put the darts back in her quiver. The silence in the courtyard thickened again. She wasn’t sure what to do. She had made one hell of a first impression—on her team, on the elves, on the demons.
    On Thorne.
    She wanted to groan and bury her head in her heads.
    She needed a do-over on everything after she had appeared in the Third Realm. It really hadn’t gone as planned.
    Sable tossed Olivia a look and her friend wiped the smile off her face and nudged Loren. The tall, slender elf prince looked down at his mate, his black eyebrows pinned high on his forehead. Olivia gave a subtle jerk of her chin towards Sable. Loren looked her way and understanding dawned in his purple eyes.
    “King Thorne.” Loren broke away from his legion and Olivia, and crossed the short distance to the demon male.
    Thorne’s gaze finally left Sable. “Prince Loren.”
    Sable seized her chance to slink back unnoticed to her team. Some of them gave her funny looks. She ignored them and Bleu’s inquisitive stare and checked her team over, making sure they had all arrived safely.
    Thorne’s focus landed back on her. She could feel it whenever it happened. A shockwave of heat rippled through her, awareness so intense that she could almost pinpoint how far he was from her and could visualise the way he was looking at her. Whenever he looked away, returning his attention to Loren, cold stole through her, fierce and frigid.
    She rubbed her wrist, her actions mimicking the light stroke of Thorne’s thumb over her tattoo. It ached and burned. Had she hurt it in training? Or was it a response to the way Thorne had caressed that patch of skin?
    She gathered herself, squared her shoulders, turned on the spot and calmly strode back to Thorne and Loren.
    The two tall men looked at her. Their height and fangs were the only things they had in common. Loren was unnaturally beautiful, lithe and held an air of darkness around him that stemmed from more than just his black hair and obsidian armour. Thorne was rugged, immense and had an aura of danger surrounding him that warned even her away.
    His gaze held darkness as he finished discussing the war with Loren.
    She had the answer to one of her questions at least. Thorne was troubled. The war was taking its toll on him, pushing him to his limit, wearing him down.
    “King Thorne,” she said without a trace of tremble in her voice and bowed her head. “I would like to introduce my team.”
    He ran an assessing gaze over them and then returned his attention to her. “Little Female. It is kind of Archangel to send a small contingent of your forces to assist in my demonomachy.”
    Sable bit her tongue, stopping herself from pointing out that she had a name and that this was a large contingent of their forces and all they could spare. She supposed that in comparison to the thousand immortal warriors that Loren had brought with him, her fifty mortal hunters did look rather pathetic.
    “Sable,” Loren started and frowned when Thorne bared his fangs on a growl. Thorne cast his gaze down at his boots and clenched his fists. Loren arched an eyebrow at him, sighed, and continued, “Your hunters must desire to settle themselves in their quarters.”
    Thorne growled again and this time Sable had the impression it was because Loren was suggesting things that he should have thought of and suggested first.
    “That would be good.” Sable kept her focus on Thorne, pretending he had suggested it, hoping to calm him.
    “You men,” Thorne barked and a group of demons near the large arched doorway of the impressive dark grey fortress saluted, pressing their hands to their bare chests. “Show the mortals and elves to their quarters.”
    He signalled another set of males and gestured to the elves standing guard next to the black crates and bags.
    “Take their belongings and follow their instruction to