Page 17 of Drawn to the Demon Duke (Sombra Demons)

I NEED YOU

SUSANNA

S o… I’m still a secret.

I can’t really complain. He’s gotten better at needing to hide me constantly.

The maids and cooks know I exist now; I finally get a balanced plate of food instead of just meat.

Most of the guards that have constant access to me are aware that Haures has a human mate.

Glaine, who I go out of my way to avoid, and a handful of others.

Haures’s mage Sammael seems more and more fascinated by the mortal world he visited when Haures instructed him to join him so that Sammael could put me in chains.

Because Haures explained it was on his orders—and that he did so to keep me contained during travel between realms since he expected his appearance to frighten his mate way more than it ever did me—I decided not to hold it against Sammael.

Besides, he’s the only one who doesn’t seem to hold my mortality against me.

Well, except for Dagon.

Even so, I can tell he’s still iffy when it comes to me being a human woman.

He’s satisfied Haures’s jealous side, proving that he’s only devoting himself because of his life debt and not because he’s into me.

Somehow I’ve found myself saddled with a taciturn bodyguard who barely speaks.

It’s like pulling fangs here to get him to call me ‘Susanna’ on the rare occasion that he does.

To those that know about me, Haures isn’t shy in claiming that I’m his mate. I’m precious cargo these days. A fact he reiterates by installing me into my own bedroom right next to it, with a huuuge featherbed, and a closet full of the most gorgeous dresses, all in my size.

Turns out, these pair of psychic twins told him that, one day, his mate would be a human.

Since he didn’t quite know what to expect, he wasn’t able to provide clothes for me until I summoned him and he—courtesy of this unique bond between the bondmaster and his one true mate—knew my size instinctively, down to the fact that I wear a size eight shoe.

Did it matter that he had no reference for what a 36C bra or size eight shoe meant? Not at all because he was able to describe me so precisely, a legion of talented demoness seamstresses whipped me up a wardrobe and shadow-woven boots during the three days I was in the dungeon.

I don’t know what was the bigger relief: being able to change my clothes at last, or that I took the longest soak in the charmed bathtub with steaming water and soap that left me smelling like cotton candy.

I’m being pampered these days. And if it kind of sucks just a little bit that I seem to spend more time with quiet Dagon than I do Haures, I deal with it.

We share meals, and we invites me to watch him rule whenever the throne room is empty of anyone who doesn’t know his secret.

Plus, you know… virgin . I’ve been living as Haures’s duchess for weeks now, close to a ‘cycle’ as my mate refers to a month, but while Sombra demons don’t need half as much sleep as a human woman does, I’ve yet to sleep with my mate yet.

Haven’t banged him yet, either.

I thought the bond gave me a little relief from the tug I constantly feel toward Haures after we both agreed to give this mate thing a try.

And it did for a couple of days. Slowly but surely, though, it started to creep back in.

A flush here. A hint of fever, there. My body was achy. My boobs heavy. My pussy on fire .

I wanted my mate to be my mate in all the ways that matter, and it seems like the bond agrees.

I remember how Haures fondled himself after the shockingly erotic image of him feasting on my pussy popped into my brain. It was definitely his fantasy, not mine, though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t imagine what that would be like with Haures’s warm mouth on my most private of parts.

He’s being careful, though. Treating me with kit gloves. As though he wants to make up for me less-than-stellar welcome, he’s not rushing me into anything. So long as I accept that I’m his mate, he’s happy to move forward at this snail’s pace.

Me? Not so much, but I refuse to be pushy, either. If he wants to wait to take this mating of ours to the next step, I can wait. So long as I do the waiting in my cushy bedroom or hanging out in the gorgeous garden he gave to me, I’m okay.

I like the garden. It’s where I had my first kiss with Haures, and where he goes to find me whenever he is hungry and desperate for another.

You know what I like even better?

The royal library .

That’s right. Haures has a library in this castle, and like the garden, he tells me that it belongs to me now.

If that’s not a panty-dropper, I don’t know what is…

He also took me to the school of Mages to show me their library. I’m delighted to discover that, before it was bound into the Groimoire du Sombra alongside many of the school’s spells for their students, the verus amor spell—also known as the matefinder spell—was a scroll in that very library.

I wonder about taking a quick trip to Connecticut, maybe retrieve the book and leave a goodbye not behind for Mindy. I hate to think what would happen if the grimoire fell into the wrong hands, and I do everything I can not to think about how freaked-out Min must be by now about my disappearance.

I tried mentioning it to Haures once. When he understood the reasons behind my wanting to open a portal between my old world and this one, he lost his emotionless edge, promising me that I could… but only after we were formally bonded. Nothing I said could persuade him otherwise, so I dropped it.

That’s not the only topic that my haughty mate refuses to discuss, either.

In the days that followed my trip into the shadows, I want to talk to him about it. He knows about Dagon, obviously. What he doesn’t know? Is the deal I made with Yelios.

I agreed to be his mate. In that case, he needs to understand what I promised, and why I did it.

I would never risk our child, but when I never believed there would be one…

no. Haures needs to know, and he needs to hear it from me, not from what he infers from the scattered emotions and thoughts that trickle down my side of our bond to his.

He absolutely refuses.

I know why. He’s stupidly worried that I’ll ask for a second chance to retrieve another ashbalm flower.

As I’ve since learned, only one appears every cycle of the gold moon—the second, smaller moon that has significance to the Sombra demons—which is why I couldn’t grab another one after I destroyed the first to save Dagon.

I don’t want to sever our bond. I want to finalize it. But as long as Haures feels like he needs to protect me… I don’t know if I’ll ever truly be his duchess.

Whenever I get too anxious, alone in my bedroom or reading a book in the library, I tend to gravitate toward the garden.

Dagon, too, of course, though I’m getting used to having a seven-foot-tall shadow trailing me. I’ve made it my mission to turn my bodyguard into my friend, and while it’s slow going, I’ve been making progress over the last few days.

He even cracked an almost-smile when I made a joke yesterday!

For now, I’ve got my dress curled up beneath my butt, sitting carefully on the edge of the fountain.

I kind of have to; be careful, that is. The seamstresses got my size dead-on, but I guess undergarments aren’t really a thing here because…

whoops. No bras. No panties. My shadow boots—and that’s so friggin’ cool that my boots are made of shadow —are comfortable enough that I don’t need socks.

It’s just me and my dress, and I’m just grateful the bodice has enough support that my boobs aren’t flopping everywhere.

Dagon is standing at the far end of the garden, his back straight, his horns pointed up at the sky. His gaze is forward, though if I even so much as move an inch, his head jerks, making sure I’m safe. Otherwise, he’s not there, paying more attention to the full gold moon overhead than he does me.

One day, I hope I’ll get used to it. I don’t see how I’m in any danger her in the garden, and I’m sure Dagon would rather return to his home village instead of watching me play ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ with the blue flowers, but for now, he’s refusing to leave my side unless Haures is near.

I tried to point out that he’s right there, on the other side of the door leading out to the garden. Who knows? I could scream and he probably would hear me. The garden is probably the safest part of the whole capital since no one else comes out here except for me, Dagon, and Haures.

Of course, right as I have that exact though, an unfamiliar green-eyed demon suddenly appears. I didn’t even see him come through the door, though he’s in his shadow form. For all I know, he zipped up and out of the hole in the palace’s ceiling before landing just beyond the fountain.

I make a small sound of surprise.

Immediately, Dagon is at my side, flexing his claws, baring his fangs at the intruder. “Tropp. What are you doing so close to the duchess?”

Tropp. Right. I see it now. Even in his shadow form, his left horn is slightly shorter than the other.

His green gaze flickers toward me, discussing me just as easily. I ignore it. Most of the guards refuse to accept that I’m going to be the duchess since Haures and I haven’t bonded yet, and his broad chest is still naked.

Whatever.

He clears his throat. “Dagon. His grace has requested your presence in the throne room.”

“My loyalty is to the duchess,” he rumbles. “I will not leave her even if Duke Haures demands it.”

Oh, jeez. Talk like that will have Dagon on his knees again, Glaine’s killer sword swinging over the back of his neck.

Tropp would see to it, too. The guards don’t like that a mere hunter from one of the smaller villages in Sombra has taken a position that they feel, by rights, should’ve gone to one of them. Given the chance, they’d get rid of Dagon. I’m sure of it.

No.