Page 10 of A Summoned Husband

The laugh that escaped me at the thought was a low rumble in my chest that shook the table.

As she returned, her shaky hand waving the poor excuse for a weapon at me again, to drag the final female from the room, my eyes dropped to the book. I scooped it up in my hand and felt the way the pages heated like those in my realm, the scent of fire and brimstone on it.

Fuck.

My eyes read the script of my brethren and a hiss escaped me.

No.

No, no, no.

Fire lit in my belly. The smoke wafted up from my skin as my anger took hold.

This wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t something to be done.

Flipping through the pages, I looked for some sign of who could have written the wretched book that just damned me down to my very soul. Fire escaped my palms, fuelled by my unkept fury. It moved over the book, my heart calling out to devour it. To eat through the pages and the blood that bound me in a way nothing else could.

My fire danced around the book, enveloping it in its whole but it did nothing to bite into the leather or the pages.

I snarled.

Whipping the book, it shattered the window and flew out into the darkness of the woods beyond.

“Hey!”

The small conscious female with dark hair stepped into the room. Her eyes were narrowed, her weapon held before her as anger flashed in her eyes.

“Stop that! Don’t…” she paused, trying to find her words. “Don’t break things.”

I snarled at her, my hands rolling into fists.

She crossed the room, giving me a wide berth as she stood at the broken window and stared out into the night. “Was that the book?” Her hands went up, her fist pressed against her temple, one still holding her weapon. “Great, that was the fucking book,” she whispered.

Her anger made her less afraid. Interesting.

Whirling on me, rage was plain on her features. “Why would you throw away the book, you big… big…” her cheeks puffed up. “Dummy.”

As though I would ever stoop so low as to offer this thing any explanation. I needed to abandon this place and return to my realm, find who did this and wring their stupid neck. I would make every moment of their immortal existence tormented — and not in the way they would enjoy.

“Okay, okay, Eden. Think.” She put her hands on her hips, head falling back as she took in a deep breath. She had long hair, almost as dark as mine. It fell to her hips as she hung her head. Against my will, I took her in.

Her skin was brown, her lips deep and full. She had thick lashes that brushed her cheeks as she stood with her eyes closed.

It seemed she was a fool.

Standing there, with her eyes closed, as though she wasn’t in the presence of a demon. Especially one as powerful as me.

I supposed, in this realm, she was what these feeble beings would consider a worthy mate. She had wide hips and flesh around the middle that assured me she would birth worthy warriors. Her legs were sturdy. Capable. She had shown her strength as she dragged the females from the room, though it would have been more impressive if she lifted them from the floor. Quicker too.

“We need the book to undo whatever the fuck Vi did when she chanted that creepy ass thing. A ritual or something. Right? Yeah. A ritual.” She tapped the edge of her weapon on her brow, wincing when it sliced into her all too tender mortal flesh.

The scent that filled the air was intoxicating.

Saliva thinned in my mouth and my stomach churned.

It was the sweetest sin. It was the darkest shadows wrapped around me, soothing away all the parts of me that yearned to be righteous. Closer to the scent of damnation in the deepest pits where the damned laid their wicked heads to rest.

A wince left her as she pulled the poor excuse of a dagger away.