To Enthrall the Demon Lord by Nadine Mutas

Author:Nadine Mutas [Mutas, Nadine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nadine Mutas

The sight of Maeve curled into a ball of misery on the ground sharpened Arawn’s ever-present hunting instinct into lethal focus. Only there was no one to chase down and tear to bloody shreds, no focal point for the urge to murder with mad methodology.

So he drew it inward, directed that rage at the other impulse beating at his brain, the need to gather the tense form of his witch and stroke her fears away. Doing so wouldn’t help her. Not yet, anyway. What she needed, at this point, was support of a different kind.

She sat up, shaking, her shoulders drooping, her hair hiding her face. He didn’t need to see her expression to know it was one of abject defeat, her humiliation smothering her like a mantle of failure, fringed by fear. Rising silently to her feet, she turned her back to him, as if wanting to slip away.

He would have none of that.

“One setback,” he said, keeping his voice conversational, “and you are ready to throw in the towel?”

She stiffened, anger in the set of her tense shoulders.

Anger was good. Anger was better than defeat.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she rasped. “It’s not that easy.”

“Who said it should be?”

She crossed her arms, and a muscle in her jaw twitched.

“Someone once,” he said on a silken murmur, bracing his elbows on his knees, “broke every bone in my body. When I tried to walk again after I started to heal, I fell on my face more times than I can count. It hurt. It was humiliating. But it would have been even more so had I given up.”

Eyes wide, she faced him, her arms falling to her sides. Surprise flickered over her features, and an echo of a stinging emotion flowed along the bond.

“Who did that to you?” she whispered.

“You would do well,” he said softly, “to remember what sort of reactions you dislike in others when they hear of your struggles.”

She blinked, those copper lashes lowering and lifting over gray-streaked amber. “I’m not pitying you,” she said after a moment. “I want to know who dared lay a hand on you, and whether they’re dead, or still mine for the killing.”

He barked a laugh, the sound startling him. He hadn’t laughed in ages. Not like this. Unrestrained, taken unawares by the sort of rousing amusement that came out of nowhere, yet consumed him.

He was still grinning, his chest feeling wide open, when he said, “I wish I could bring them back to life, then, just to watch you burn them to cinders.”

Her features had gentled, her eyes glowing as she beheld him, her lips parted on a sigh. “You’re magnificent when you laugh.”

Raw. She had to be ripped raw still from her flashback to be saying such things. “Tell me again tomorrow, and I may believe you.”

“Show me more of your laughter, and I will tell you every day.”

“Careful now,” he murmured. “If you stroke my ego any more, I will demand you stroke other parts as well.”

The blush on

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