Page 46 of Prince of Demons (Demon’s Mark #2)

Georgia

“ K esh…”

His name fell from her lips one final time, but the constriction of her throat made it sound like barely more than a whisper.

He ignored it, as he had her other attempts at reaching him, and turned his attention to his brother.

“My Second knows of the Breeder’s Pure status.

If this information hasn’t spread already, it’s only a matter of time before it will.

We need to regroup and prepare to send out invitations to her courting as soon as possible if we are to avoid a revolt.

I suggest we move to my official premises and proceed.

The sooner this is handled, the better for everyone. ”

Horrible, cold numbness sank deep into her chest.

This was really it. Everything she’d felt, that all-encompassing connection, truly meant nothing to him. Or, at least, less than his duty to his family.

She supposed she shouldn’t have expected anything different. He’d made it clear from the beginning that his priority was to ship her off to some other demon as soon as possible, so he could return to what truly mattered to him: his war, and his family’s survival.

She’d been na?ve to think that moment between them meant the same for him as it did for her.

The cold numbness spread through her whole body.

He was a demon. What did she expect? He was a demon; any sense of humanity she’d seen during their time together would never measure up to the truth of his nature.

And she… she’d allowed herself to believe that there was more to him, more to their so-called connection than the simple fact that he and all his kind saw her as a womb to breed, because…

because he was the first person since Larry to ever treat her like she mattered.

The humiliating truth made her close her eyes, the sound of Kesh’s family turning to a wordless murmur behind the rushing of blood in her ears. How pitiful, how disgustingly weak she was to have pinned hopes of love on the Prince of Demons.

The air felt too thick to breathe, his strong arms around her body like iron bands restricting her lungs.

“Put me down.”

Kesh ignored her—they all did. They were discussing how to host this ‘courting’, this ritual to pretend she had semblance of choice in the matter.

“Put me down!” Anger, refreshing amidst the icy numbness, washed through her. This time, her voice projected loud enough that he couldn’t ignore her.

Kesh’s eyes flicked down briefly, but didn’t connect with hers. “No. The floor is cold, and you have no shoes.” His tone was calm but vaguely irritated. Like she was a persistent child demanding sweets before dinner.

“I don’t care. Put me down right now.” Her skin crawled, the sensation of his warmth against her no longer soothing, but violating—a reminder of a betrayal she had no right to feel. “Put me down, put me down, put. Me. Down!”

“Kesh—” There was a hint of warning in the queen’s voice, but he ignored her, as he did Georgia.

“So it is decided? We will send for the lords this evening, and the courting will begin tomorrow aftern—” His voice died when Georgia’s hand impacted with the side of his head with as much force as she could muster. Finally, his black eyes met hers.

“Put me down, Kesh. I don’t want you to touch me—ever again.” There was more malice in her voice than she’d ever contained in her life.

His jaw worked once. Twice. Something flared in his gaze, angry and raw, and for just a moment, she thought she saw just a sliver of regret.

Her heart gave a spasm, somewhere past the rage, but then his expression smoothed into cold indifference and the fizzle of hope withered before it ever fully sprouted.

Silently, he let her slide to the concrete floor. Immediately, icy cold bit into the soles of her naked feet, and for a split second, she wished she was back in his arms. Then he turned his back on her, as if she didn’t exist, and stalked out of the empty space, leaving her behind with his family.

Yes. What she’d felt underneath him, in his arms…

even when she’d held him while he cried over the loss of his mother—to her human heart, those had been moments of connection had been so profound, it felt like it’d changed something in the very makeup of her DNA.

To a demon, however… To a demon, they’d meant nothing.

She meant nothing.

Kesh’s official premises—AKA the converted casino that housed his throne room—were in wild disarray all throughout the night.

From the room on the second floor where she’d been sequestered, Georgia watched men—she assumed demons, but thanks to her brand she couldn’t know for certain—drag chairs and tables and enormous flower decorations out of an unending caravan of trucks and into the throne room below.

It seemed the ‘courting’ of a so-called Pure Breeder required more pomp and circumstance than the ones who couldn’t survive a demon lord’s penetration.

Sometime in the early morning hours, when the exhaustion finally won out over misery and she managed to doze off, a large but not ridiculous plate of breakfast and a beautiful red gown appeared in her room. She woke up to the scent of bacon, and the dress draped across the dressing room chair.

It looked as expensive as any of the beautiful dresses Kesh provided for her during her time under his care, but on closer inspection, the fabric was stiff and heavy, with thousands of shimmering diamonds covering the bodice and rippling down the full skirt.

He hadn’t picked this one—his selections had always been silky and butter-soft, beautiful but made for a comfortable skin feel first and foremost.

Whoever had selected the red gown had considered how to make her appear striking and regal, but not how it would feel to wear such a dress.

Georgia slid her fingers over the stiff fabric.

It was no doubt as expensive as the jewels covering it, but to hold up the heft of the gown it had to be rigid.

She didn’t mind—once upon a time, as a little girl, she would have given her left arm to wear such an extravagant dress.

With what lay ahead in her life, she really should try to find the silver linings where she could.

What did it matter that her already broken heart twinged at the knowledge that Kesh hadn’t cared enough to choose the dress she would wear to her courting ceremony?

He’d made it plenty clear it was an inconvenient event he needed over with as soon as possible, so he could return his focus to what mattered to him: his men, his territory, and his family.

Her morose thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. The queen entered, sans baby.

“Hey. I just wanted to check up on you. I know it’s all… a lot right now.”

Georgia shrugged, turning away from the dress. “It’s been a lot for a while now. This is just… an extra helping of the crap-cake.”

Selma sighed softly. “I’m… I’m truly sorry, Georgia. I keep trying to stop this… vile custom of using us as something to be owned, but as much power as I have now… I am not more powerful than the primordial need they have to possess.”

“It’s not your fault. I guess… it could be worse. Kesh said something about you changing the customs they used to have.”

Selma gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah… they used to auction us.

We got dragged naked into an arena surrounded by demons who then bid on us.

Whoever offered the most money, while also being able to win a fight against the other competitors, would get to fuck us right there, in front of everyone, then haul us off to birth children.

“Giving you some semblance of choice in who you mate… It’s not enough, but it’s… a starting point.”

Georgia shuddered at the far-too-vivid description. “It’s… It’s more than I thought I’d get. It will have to be enough.”

The queen’s chocolate eyes studied her for a long moment. “Do you love him?”

There was no point in asking who she meant.

Georgia exhaled a slow, steadying breath and shook her head.

“How could I? I’m just… I’m just an inconvenience to him.

And he’s… cruel, and brutal… a cold-blooded killer.

No, I don’t love him, I just…” She trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence.

When she dared a glance at the queen, the other woman’s face was drawn in gentle empathy.

“There was a time I didn’t think I could ever love a demon. They are… all those things. Monsters. But they are more than that—so much more. And there is no shame in loving them.”

“It doesn’t really matter whether I do or not. He’s made his choice. At least I get to make mine today, too.” Georgia managed a half-smile. “No one marries a demon and expects happily ever after. But it’s comforting to know that it is at least… a possibility, of sorts.”

Selma bit her lip, nodding as she let her gaze slide over the red gown. “There was… something else I wanted to discuss with you. The goddess who came to Kesh’s penthouse, did she… give you anything? Before she activated your ring?”

Georgia frowned at the change of subject. “Give me something? No. Why, what would she have given me?”

Selma reached into her pocket and pulled out a palm-sized, smooth, and dully glowing stone. A shock of recognition ran up Georgia’s spine at the sight of it.

“Nothing like this?”

“W-what is that?” The memory of Suzanne in her child-disguise, pressing an identical stone into her hand, prickled unpleasantly at her brain.

“This is a Stone of Power. One of the three most powerful demonic artifacts ever created. The European royals gave one to the old queen—I won it from her when I defeated her. According to my mate’s father, the lords Kesh was fighting in Maine had another, but the goddess who visited you yesterday stole it.

“Kirigan is right, of course. The gods are devious, and whatever plans they have are rarely for the benefit of humans, and definitely not those of us mated to their arch enemies. But… I do find it curious that the thief of this second stone sought you out and attempted to force a mating between you and a member of the family that currently holds another such artifact.” There was no accusation in the queen’s eyes, just calm reassurance. She knew.

“She gave it to me in Maine, when she was pretending to be a child,” Georgia whispered, the implications still too enormous to process.

“I thought… I thought it was just a pretty stone. But I… I don’t have it anymore.

It was in my pocket when Kesh… He ripped my clothes.

It’s probably still somewhere in the rubble of the penthouse if you want it. ”

Selma’s gaze sharpened. “If I want it? Do you not understand—this stone is power. And it was given to you. Over the centuries, demons have fought and died for these things, but you would just… offer it to me?”

A flush rose to Georgia’s cheeks. Unbidden, Kesh’s derogatory words about her inability to take what she wanted resonated in her mind. But that was ridiculous. She didn’t want some demonic artifact weapon—all she wanted was peace. A quiet life with someone who didn’t hurt her.

“What would I use it for? I’m not at war—you are.

Better you take it than me. I wouldn’t even know how it works.

” Turning back around to the magnificent red gown laid out for her courting ceremony, she ran her fingers over the fabric once more, trying to find some softness in it.

“As I understand it, all I can do is marry one of your allies to ensure your support doesn’t crumble and you lose this war.

Love was never in the cards for me, but if I can help in some small way to keep yours intact… that’s a nice bonus.”

“Georgia—”

“I don’t want it. All I wanted at the start of this was for my brother to live.

He did. Kesh cured him. I don’t want any part in demonic relics, or war, or…

or Fate. Or whatever that goddess thought was going to happen when she gave me that stone.

Please, just… just let me try to find whatever peace I can. ”

Selma was quiet for a long time. Finally, her voice softer than before, she said, “The main thing I’ve wanted for our kind was agency over our own lives.

If this is your choice, I will support it.

But please know that you aren’t alone, even when it may feel like it.

If you ever need me in your new life, reach out. I will come.”

The red gown was as uncomfortable as it was beautiful.

Georgia stared silently at her own reflection, trying to reconcile the perfectly decorated doll she saw in the mirror with the empty sense of despair gnawing at her insides.

She’d never given much thought to who she’d marry.

If she’d marry. Sure, when she was young and had felt alone and overwhelmed with the responsibilities her mother had foisted on her, she’d harbored dreams of some modern-day prince sweeping in and taking her away from all the difficulties.

But as she grew older, it just hadn’t felt realistic.

To fall in love? To find someone who understood her, cherished her?

No, that had never been in the cards. Not for her.

A firm knock on the door pulled her thoughts to the present. She drew in a deep breath, steeling herself, and turned away from the mirror just as the door swung open.

Kesh stood in the opening, dressed in his leather armor and with an iron crown decorating his brow. In his human disguise, he looked like a beautiful warrior prince straight out of a fairytale, and the sight of him made everything numb tense up inside her.

For a long breath, they stared silently at each other. Georgia’s pulse thudded in her temples, down her body and deep into her core where she still felt the sweet ache of their illicit union. A cruel reminder of those haunting moments where she’d thought…

She forced a breath through her nose and deep into her lungs, raising her chin in defiance. There was no point in poking that wound anymore, and certainly no reason to let him see how much it still hurt.

“Are my suitors here, then? Take me to them. I wish to meet my future husband.”