Page 3

CHAPTER 3

VISITORS

MALPHAS

I t is the night after the gold moon, and my mate made up for a night of abstinence by allowing me to pleasure her until she nestled against my chest, falling asleep immediately.

I stayed with her in the lava pool for a few moments more, just enjoying the feel of her naked skin against my shadows. I would’ve stayed forever in the content, quiet moment if I could, but I knew better.

For one, there are probably other mated couples who are eager to find privacy in one of the hidden pools. There are plenty of spawn who live in Nuit, but when it takes three long years for a demoness to grow her child inside of her, then at least a century before they’re considered a mature demon, most bonded pairs only have one or two at a time before a gap of decades, if not centuries.

Sombra is a world of balance. Of superstition. Of magic, and our gods. They give us immortality and bless us with our one true mate, but while it isn’t easy for a Sombra demon to die, our realm would be overrun if we conceived on every possible gold moon. To even the scales, when too many spawn are brought into our world, war happens. Famine happens. The predators in the shadows get hungry. And the weight of forever sometimes because too much to bear until demons with too many centuries to count simply fade away.

Not every demon is fortunate enough to find their one true mate. Some of us are patient. Some of us are determined. But when the years go by and loneliness replaces hope, forever can seem like a punishment.

Death can be an escape.

I understand why a demon would give up. But when I hold my Shannon close, I also understand how far an honorable male would go to ensure that he held on tight to his forever…

I have more than just my mate now. And while Kennedy enjoys watching over Alana because she considers it ‘practice’ for when she has her child, to linger longer into the night when we should be home with our daughter… I held Shannon close, lifting her out of the pool before carrying her back to the village inside of my shadows.

After I laid her out on our bedding to sleep, I retrieved Alana from Loki and Kennedy’s home. As always, my delightful daughter’s gold-colored eyes lit up when she saw me. A demon child comes out larger than a human infant. Alana is four cycles old, four moons, but Shannon laughs and says that she looks closer to a toddler in her size and with her head of soft, pale curls twisting around her small horns.

She is still her mother’s baby, though. She drinks from Shannon’s breast, and won’t speak for closer to a full Sombran year has passed. She sits up with a little help, and when she can climb, I know my mate and I will be in trouble.

For now, she cooed in delight as Kennedy handed her over to me. One hand landed on the side of my neck. The other grabbed for my nearest horn. I angled my head so she could clutch at the curve, not the point, while promising Loki and Kennedy that, when the time came and they needed their own privacy, Shannon and I will tend to their spawn.

Now both of my females are sleeping. Alana has her own room—the nursery, as Shannon calls it—right next to the quarters where her mother and I lie together. Just like the spare room we crafted over Turn the Page, I painted the walls in here to illustrate the gold moon shining over Sombra on one side, plus a scene from Main Street in Jericho on the other.

One of the burnt wood-workers in Nuit built a cradle to Shannon’s exact specifications. I painted that as well, and Lilith’s gift to Alana was a pillow-soft nest the clanmother sewed for our spawn. Once returned to our home, I placed Alana down inside the cradle, murmuring softly to her, patting her curls, waiting for her to fall asleep for the eve.

When she did, I returned to my mating quarters.

Shannon has barely moved from the curled-up position she was in when I slipped out to retrieve Alana. Despite constantly reminding me how hot Sombra is, she insists on sleeping with a sheet over her. One leg has slipped out from under it. Taking the hem in my claw, I drag it gently until she’s fully covered.

I want nothing more than to join her. To lie on my side, acting like a utensil as I… not fork her… ah, spoon her. Holding her close, marveling at how fortunate I am to call this wee human female mine… but I can’t.

The most I can allow myself is to crouch low, sliding my shadow claws through her hair. I shudder at the slight connection. Even asleep, our finalized bond thrums between us as my body instinctively recognizes the nearness of my mate.

My fingers stroke her ridge-free, colorless skin. The first time I touched my mate, I was shocked by the difference in our body temperatures. She’d seemed so erotically cold . The chill on my skin nearly had me spilling my seed then and there, even though my own skin was so hot, it seemed to burn her.

After the essence exchange, our bodies changed just enough that we’re closer in temperature. I’m still warmer, she’s still cool to the touch, and my tired body begins to stir from my fingertips brushing against her smooth skin.

Murmuring in her sleep, she turns into me as if giving me permission to continue stroking her gently.

My heart swells; so does the rest of me.

Tired as I am, I will never tire of her. The gods gave me this amazing female, and since we’ve been bonded, she’s given me our spawn. I don’t know what I have done in this existence to deserve such a gift, but I will fight for our family’s future together.

I will fight Fate if I must.

I am not a hunter. I try, and with Nox teaching me, and Holden and Xoran letting me tag along when they seek out prey beasts to nab for the village, I’ve learned some defense skills. I will learn more, all to protect my spawn and my mate.

And if I must protect Shannon from herself, I shall.

That’s why, when I sense someone approaching the back of our home, I reluctantly pull away from Shannon. My fingers already miss the feel of her soft skin. My cock urges me to ignore the summons. My brain knows that I cannot.

“I’ll be right back, my flower,” I murmur softly, then duck out of our quarters.

Alana was sleeping when I left her space. As I move easily into the room again, I see she’s pulled herself up, using the side of the cradle to sit and wait for me to retrieve her.

My clever daughter senses them, too.

Swooping her up, I’m not surprised that she quiets her coos as I hurry her down the stairs to the first floor of our home. As though she also knows that her mother needs her rest—and not to be worried by our monthly visitors—Alana is wide-eyed yet silent.

As I go, I check to see that the shadows I’ve woven to cover my body have held. In Sombra, when a demon doesn’t plan on switching to their shadow form, he wears coverings created by the tanners and the seamstresses. Those without or who have need of fading to their shadow form… they create coverings from their shadows themselves.

I did that earlier when I went to retrieve Alana. There was no reason to change into linens or leathers when I wore shadows to the lava pool with my mischievous mate, and I didn’t want to keep Loki and Kennedy waiting. Now? I check to make sure that my lower half is covered in shadows.

My top half? As always, I am please to show off the silver ink standing out against my deep-red skin. SHANNON … I want all of Sombra to know that I’m proud to be claimed by my mate. Plus, if our visitors ever doubt who owns my heart… my loyalty? They only have to read the human letters on my chest to understand.

Once I’m sure that I’m decent enough to greet them, I open the back door and slip out into the night.

As busy as Nuit often is, we never meet near the village square. Someone would see us, and though I belong to this clan and can visit any part of it I wish, the two males who have come to see Alana belong to Sombra.

One is in his shadow form. His purple eyes shine out of the black shadows, the slightly hazy appearance making it difficult to recognize which of the doppelseers has come tonight.

The other male? He is the reason that we stand near the shadowy trees that back up to my home.

His colorless, white skin glows beneath the main moon almost as brightly as his unusual blue eyes. His crystalline crown twinkles softly, a hint of something delicate on a big, hard demon with sharp tusks and long, pale hair.

Duke Haures.

As the ruler of Sombra, he is welcome in every clan. Same with the powerful doppelseers. Apollyon would grovel in the ash to greet the duke if he knew he was here, but as we wait for the prophecy to unfold that was set into place as soon as the first-human, first-demon spawn was born, Duke Haures insists on keeping his cyclical visits between the four of us: the duke, the doppelseers, and me.

No. Five, including Alana.

From the moment she was born and Duke Haures realized that my daughter has no shadows inside of her, just like him, he’s taken a special interest in her. He’s convinced that she will develop a special gift as she ages. Haures is a bondmaster; he can sense, view, and break mate bonds with a whim. Even if she wasn’t the spawn mentioned in the prophecy, he’d be curious to see what my halfling child might be able to do one day.

That is why he brings one of the doppelseers when he visits. Each one occurs the evening directly after the gold moon—which is why I knew to expect them tonight—and he insists on having the seer read my daughter. He told me he would do so immediately after she was born, and this is the fourth time he has returned with one of them instead of just having the doppelseers see from their charmed cabin.

Duke Haures believes the closeness will help them get a better read. It hasn’t so far. Like their mate had done before, Alana is blocking Lucian and Damien. They see nothing of her future, or that of Sombra.

The fires of Sombra will be done …

Cupping Alana’s head, holding her to me, I approach the two in silence.

Duke Haures never speaks. Probably because the duke can sense how nervous he makes me, or because he has nothing to say to a humble artist. I can’t help but remember how he’s always known—considering this prophecy is as old as Haures’s reign as duke—that the first half-demon, half-human child born would trigger the possible end of his realm.

Is that why his first law as duke was to close the portals between the mortal realm and Sombra? Why it took nearly two thousand years for the matefinder spell to land in the hands of the human female meant for Haures? Why he’s obviously refrained from mating on the night of the gold moon himself, instead waiting from his crystal throne in Mavro to see who would be the first Sombra demon with a human mate to bring a child into our worlds?

I don’t know, and I can’t ask the duke. I just stand there, continuing to match the quiet, as the doppelseer drifts forward, eyes locked on Alana.

He exhales softly. “No. There’s no change,” he murmurs, and that his voice has a rougher edge and no riddle to his words, I know it is Lucian who has come to Nuit tonight while Damien stayed behind with their fire-haired mate.

Duke Haures inclines his head, an unasked question.

Lucian shakes his. “I see red, and then there’s green.” He pauses for a moment. “Green eyes. Green Sombran eyes.”

“Glaine?” I ask. He’s the only green-eyed soldier that has any contact with Alana. No one else in Nuit is a member of the duke’s guard except for him.

“No,” Lucian echoes. “A soldier, yes, but none that currently serve Haures.”

I look over at the duke. His expression is thoughtful, but still he stays silent as his gaze is drawn down to the curious spawn tucked against my chest.

She bubbles out a laugh, flexing her chubby little fist as if reaching out for something only she can see. It’s not me. It’s not the shadow demon or even the imposing duke.

It’s something else, and I don’t know what.

“This spawn will either save Sombra or doom it,” whispers Lucian.

He’s right.

And none of us know which, either.