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“I ’m not yours, Darius,” Mist said, placing her hands on her hips, glaring at the demon. “I never have been, and I never will be.”

Saint watched his younger brother saunter toward them, coming from the hallway that led to the room they held church in. He must have tracked Mist there using something of hers, the same way Saint was sure he’d found her at the signing he’d taken her from.

Darius stopped just as he entered the room, a cruel grin on his lips as his gaze skated around the area taking everything in. The room was packed with people, all who were glowering at him like they wanted him dead.

“You’re having a party and you didn’t invite me, brother?” Darius asked, looking at him with a cocky smirk, ignoring Mist’s remark.

Saint was aware of Heaven and his MC brothers all moving forward to flank him and Mist, her coven sisters right behind them. The tension in the room was high as everyone waited to see what Darius was going to do.

“This was just for family and friends, and you are neither.”

Darius put his hand over his heart. “Deimos, that hurts.”

“Don’t care. Although, I am glad you crashed the party. Saves me the time it would have taken to hunt you down.”

Darius held his arms wide and laughed loudly. “You don’t have to go looking for me, brother. I’m here to take back what you stole from me.”

Saint cocked an eyebrow, watching the demon closely. “If you are talking about Mist, I didn’t steal her. I didn’t have to, because she was already mine. My mate for eternity.”

“She’s not your mate,” Darius grumbled, his eyes darkening to a deep red. “She’s mine.”

Mist laughed softly, tugging back the V-neck of her shirt that was covering Saint’s bite mark. “Looks to me like I belong to Saint.” Reaching over, she lightly traced a finger over the mate mark she’d left on Saint’s neck. “And he’s mine.” Putting a hand on her hip, she cocked it out and grinned at Darius. “I don’t see any marks on you.”

Darius grunted in anger, scowling at them. “Don’t worry, witch, I will burn that mark off of you. You won’t wear it much longer.”

Saint felt the smallest hint of fear through their bond, and then Mist laughed loudly. “Didn’t you already try to burn me, asshole? You stuck me in that room and set it on fire.” She motioned to the people around them before putting her hand back on her hip. “Should we tell everyone what happened then? How my jaguar got ahold of you and was about to rip your freaking balls off before I was summoned by a warlock and sucked through the portal?”

When Darius let out a roar and moved closer to them, Mist’s coven sisters blinked as one, and suddenly they were all behind the demon prince, caging him in. The king and Saint’s siblings moved to one side of him, and several of the Channing shifters moved to the other side, making it a full circle.

Darius grinned, turning around slowly as he looked at everyone who was now surrounding him. His eyes stopped on a woman with dark golden hair and deep green eyes. Licking his lips, he said, “You are stunning. Maybe once I’m done with the witch, I’ll come for you.”

The bear shifter next to her growled, showing his fangs as she slipped a knife from her boot and began to twirl it lightly in one hand. “How about you come for me now, big guy?” Grasping the hilt of the knife, she leaned forward, a slow grin crossing her face. “Do it. I dare you.”

Before Saint knew what was happening, Darius rifted, disappearing and reappearing in front of the woman. She didn’t hesitate. Before he could do anything else, her knife was slicing through his skin on his cheek, leaving a huge, deep gash behind. Darius cursed loudly, rifting again, back to the place he was before, keeping a small distance between himself and everyone else.

“What’s wrong, demon?” the woman taunted. “And here I thought we were going to have some fun.”

“Naw, Shayna,” Desi said, crossing her arms over her chest and tossing her long, dark hair back over her shoulders. “Darius the douchebag doesn’t know how to have fun. He wouldn’t know what fun was if it hit him smack in the face.”

Mist burst into laughter. When Saint glanced over at her raising an eyebrow in question, she waved a hand to Desi. “That’s what I’ve been calling him for months now. Darius the douchebag.”

“Oh,” another female shifter said from where she stood between two huge men, “I like douche canoe myself.”

“Or twatwaffle,” one of the witches chimed in. “That’s one of my favorites.”

“Definitely could be a twatwaffle,” the witch they called Zara agreed, her golden eyes pinned on Darius. “What do you say, Mist?”

Mist shrugged. “Personally, right now I just want to call him dead.” With those words, she blinked, yanking a knife from her boot at the same time. Reappearing right in front of Darius, she put a matching gash on the other side of his face with a flick of her wrist, and then she was gone.

When she solidified next to him again, Saint grunted, “Nice one, mate.”

“Thanks,” she said, giving him a cheeky grin.

Flames licked over Darius’ form as he screamed in fury. His pretty face wasn’t so pretty anymore. The skin lay open to the bone, and blood trailed down both sides of his neck. He began to chant quickly in a tongue Saint didn’t understand, and then suddenly he wasn’t alone in the circle. A warlock stood next to him, one of the biggest bastards Saint had ever seen. Reddish brown hair, hazel eyes, and legs the size of tree trunks.

He began to turn slowly around the room, making it more than halfway, before his eyes locked on Desi and stayed there. A wicked grin appeared as he asked, “Did you change your mind, Princess? The invitation is still open.”

A low growl came from the left of Saint, and he knew Angel was close to rifting and going after the asshole. He held up a hand to stop him as he responded to the witch himself. “No, she didn’t, and she’s not going to, asshole.”

The man glanced his way, then turned back to Desi, dismissing him. “I’ll leave right now, if you come with me, Princess. Just say the word.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Desi snapped, resting her hands lightly on her hips as she glared at him. “And this is not your fight. You need to leave. Now.”

The warlock licked his lips as he ran his gaze up and down her body. “Give me one good reason why I should go.”

“Because the man you are defending is a worthless piece of shit,” Zara said, pulling a dagger and blinking. She stopped in front of the warlock and reached over and slashed her knife down Darius’ chest, slicing through his shirt and causing a wound deep enough that blood began to pour out. Her eyes still on the warlock, she blinked, landing right back where she started. When Darius started yelling at her, she held up her middle finger, kissed it, and moved it in his direction as if she were throwing him a fuck you kiss.

The warlock chuckled, shaking his head at her. “I’ll leave on one condition.”

“You’ll leave,” Zara said, holding her hands out and snapping her fingers, large, white balls of energy appearing immediately, “because if you don’t, your fate will be the same as his. And trust me, you won’t be going to see the Goddess. You will be going so far into hell you will never crawl your way out.”

“You think you’re powerful enough to take me on, sorceress?”

Zara stepped closer to him. “Do you really want to find out how powerful I am, warlock? Because I can guarantee you, if we do this only one of us will be walking away, and it won’t be you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Saint noticed movement behind the warlock, and he glanced over quickly to see what was happening. Two of the women in Mist’s coven, Aurora and another one he hadn’t met yet were moving their hands in an intricate pattern as they whispered softly together. He’d never seen a witch cast a spell before, and it took a moment to tear his eyes away from the delicate poetry that seemed to flow from their fingertips.

Saint felt a shift in the room just as the warlock’s body began to shimmer. The male chuckled darkly, “I’ll leave for now, sorceress, but I won’t be far. The princess and I have some unfinished business.” With one last look at Desi, he muttered, “See you soon.”

“Get back here, you son of a bitch!” Darius yelled, one hand on his chest, the other holding one side of his face together. There was so much blood, but the bastard was still standing. “I own you, Elias Ganter.”

“People are not possessions, Darius.” God huffed and shook his head. “I will never understand why you chose the path you are on, but it stops here.”

“Who do you think you are to threaten me?” Darius screamed. “You are no one! No one!”

“You can call me God.”

Darius’ face turned red with anger before his form began to waver and he rifted. Unfortunately, it didn’t quite work out the way he planned. One moment he was there in the middle of the circle, the next he was gone, and seconds later he slammed into a forcefield that must have been created by the witches just moments before.

He fell to the floor, landing on his back with a groan. Then quickly rolled into a crouch. Baring his fangs, then he snarled, “If I am going to die, I’m taking all of you with me.” He raised his arms and flames erupted all over his body. His claws lengthened and his form began to grow as his demon emerged.

“Enough!” the king thundered, stalking toward the prince, his own demon making an appearance as flames danced over his arms and his eyes went ruby red. “You are done with all of the torture and killing, Darius Riorden. I am the judge and executioner in the demon realm, and I am sentencing you to death.”

“I am your son!”

“No! You stopped being my son the day you went against me and the throne. The day you attempted to claim a mate that didn’t belong to you, and then kidnapped her and tried to kill her.” The king shook his head in disappointment. “You are no one to me now.”

Darius roared, throwing himself at the king in a furious rage. Saint rifted, appearing right in front of his brother and grabbing him by the throat before he could get to his father. He squeezed hard, leaning down and sinking his fangs in his brother’s shoulder, letting loose his poison in a large, lethal dose. Then, he threw Darius away, across the room where a beautiful jaguar waited, her large, gray eyes glowing and her white fangs gleaming.

Darius landed on the ground just when Mist sprang. As the demon screamed in pain from the poison, she wasted no time in wrapping her powerful jaws around his neck and ripping it out. Standing over the dead demon, she raised her head and let out a loud roar of victory. She did it again, but then paused and stumbled back, dropping to her haunches as she stared over at Saint.

He grinned, quickly crossing the room to her and scooping her up in his arms, holding her close. Rubbing his face in her fur, he inhaled deeply, then frowned. The scent of his mate’s pain was in the air, along with that of the poison he’d injected into his brother right before the jaguar sank her fangs into him.

“Shit, kitty. The poison.”

Saint lowered her to the ground, running his hands over her fur. He had to get the poison out. He had no idea how much she’d ingested, but by the way she was hissing and panting, it was already spreading throughout her body.

“Let me,” Zion said quietly, kneeling down next to them.

“No,” Priest cut in, lowering himself down on the other side. When Zion snarled at him, Priest growled, “Your shifter side can’t handle the poison like I can, Zion. I got this.”

“I can do this.”

Saint ignored them both. Fucking dumbasses. It was his poison that was in her, he could take it back easily and it wouldn’t hurt him or either of them. While they were in their pissing match, he drew the poison flowing through his mate back into his own body. He didn’t glance up, but did mutter a quiet thank you to his father when the king knelt beside them and placed a hand on the jaguar, taking some of the poison himself to speed up the process.

Saint was aware of the witches and the Channing family asking what was going on and if Mist was okay, but he blocked them out. All that mattered was his mate and taking away the pain she was in because of his own damn poison.

It took several minutes, even with his father’s help, but as soon as it was all removed, Saint lifted the cat in his arms and stood, turning and stalking toward his rooms. Before he went down the hallway, he glanced back at all of the people who’d been there and stood by his mate. They had come for her because they considered her family. That meant, they were now his family too. He would guard them the way he did everyone else he held dear, he just had to learn who they all were first.

“Thank you,” he said, inclining his head to them. “I need to take care of my mate now, but soon we will have a real party for all of our friends and family.”

“Here at the clubhouse,” God called out.

Saint nodded. After thanking them again, he turned and took his mate back to his rooms where she could get the rest she needed and heal.

Home.