Chained to the Devil’s Daughter (Mating the Elements #1)

12

Ash’ren

I woke in the tower. The smell of scorching flesh burned my nostrils. A steady clinking sound burrowed its way into my eardrums. Guards shouting euphemisms goaded me to pick up the chain.

“Damn fucking rings,” I muttered. I clenched my hands, raw from the poisonous treatment on the massive chain, knowing I had a full day of digging ahead. That’s if I was fortunate and they didn’t demand my hands to entertain them instead. “Damn Devil. Damn!”

A soft voice shattered my painful existence. A pliable body squished against me, soft fingers stroking my neck, worried kisses tracing my jaw.

“Ash’ren. I’m here.”

“You are,” I agreed. “But am I?”

“Let’s find out.”

I fought the urge to slap her away, lest she mar her beautiful skin. Soft as butterfly wings, light touches explored my burning skin. They traveled from my broken horn to my abdomen, caressing scars littering my body.

“Ash’ren,” she said tentatively. “I’m here when you’re ready.”

I rose to my elbow and shrugged. “Not much to say. Fisticuffs, bludgeons, all poisoned with dark magic like the chain. All the guards had something.”

“And what bollocks reason did they have to use them? Your magic was suppressed. Nothing required this severe of punishment.”

Her anger for me was adorable, and, speaking of bollocks, mine were getting a pleasantly rude awakening with her tits bouncing right in front of my face. The wrath on her cheeks leaked down her neck and painted her chest alluring shades of red. I palmed a cheek of her ass and rolled onto my back, so she lay on top of me. The bright color of her cheeks immediately seemed more fitting, but she pushed herself to her knees with a feisty little sneer. Like she had a fight to pick with me. I smirked, ready to take every punch.

“Don’t worry, princess. The scars will fade, and we can forget all that nonsense. Like it never happened.”

“Frozen rings,” she scoffed. She crossed her arms, fury haloing her like an aura. Her sunshine filled the room as she shot daggers down at me. “Bottling things up does not mean they never happened. You must talk to—unnf.”

I gripped her hips and wrenched her down onto my aching shaft, humping through our clothes until she lost balance. Her hands uncrossed and dropped to my chest, the ample swell of her bosom bouncing. Grinning wildly, I thrust again, watching rapt as her crimson cheeks darkened, her jaw hanging ajar, all but begging for a cock to shut her the fuck up.

“Ash’ren, this is—oooh—serious!”

“I’m very serious, Firefly.”

“Not—oooh—elements save me, Ash, this conversation is not over!”

“By all means, continue,” I teased. “I’m all ears.”

“No, you’re all cock,” she quipped, and I laughed so heartily that she slammed her hand over my mouth. “Shh!”

Right. It wasn’t as though I’d had to keep my laughter down in the tower. Here, firmly planted in reality, her flames-fucking suitor was in the next room.

My gaze fell to the golden door. She was mine, no matter how many had slept there over the years. My knot ached to breach her, my balls clenching at the thought of shooting seed so deep into her womb that we’d have a litter of half-human, half-demon pups in no time.

“Not much longer,” I ground out through clenched teeth, humping her harder but with less amiability. Nine years we’d been apart, but never had we loved each other freely. “I won’t stand in your suitors’ shadow much longer.”

“Not much longer,” she agreed, but she slid off me. “I promise.”

"And you?” I sat up in a huff. “How long will you remain in the shadows, Firefly?”

She shot a look over her shoulder as she fixed the straps on her clothing. “What? I’m in the firelight all the time. Literally. Always.”

“Yes,” I broached carefully. I swung my legs over the bed and pulled on my tunic, the fit tight on my muscles. I studiously fixed the laces on my trousers, rolling the perfectly unfrayed tip of string between my calloused fingers. “Yet, your light dims.”

In my peripheral, I saw her hesitate. Glancing up, our eyes met in the mirror, that stubborn spark of her light flaring to life. She would become angry, maybe raise her voice, or taunt me until we laughed. I would see that spark become a flame, as it had moments before when her delicate hands traced my scars. It was true she possessed no magic, but her inner flame was powerful enough to remake a kingdom.

She sighed, the spark sputtering out.

I let out a breath and looked away. “Your fire is beautiful. It’s what will bring your people together.”

Searra snorted. “I’m only human.”

“Yet your spark is the brightest in Hell.”

“I know that’s the case to you .” Fully dressed in a regal black gown, she returned to the bed. Small hands rubbed my back, circling my middle. Her cheek rested against my shoulder. “But Ash, not everyone sees me that way, and I cannot always burn for you.”

“Don’t burn for me. Burn for yourself. Burn for your people.” I wrested her around the waist and dragged her across my lap. “Burn because you were fucking born to.”

She hesitated. Her lip slipped under her teeth, and something bright flashed through her features.

“It was always you who gave me that spark anyway,” she spoke softly, between kisses that traced my tense jaw. “And now my fire has returned.”

I snarled. I hurled her further up the bed and stalked above her, two dainty wrists in hand. “You are mistaken, Searra. I have nothing to do with your spark. I was selfish. I wanted to bask in it all by myself. But now your people need it, and you will share it with them. They will see you as I do.” I captured her mouth, then drew back and added with a growl, “Though there are some things I will remain selfish about.”

I gave her no option to argue. I sucked and bit her bottom lip until she arched against my hold, ready to show her all the primal ways I wanted to own her.

She pulled away with a gasp and offered a soft, spark-less smile that made my chest ache. Without a word, she detangled from me and scooted off the bed. In the same three seconds it took for my hands to grow cold, she’d crossed the room.

Someone knocked, but it wasn’t on the front door. My throat clogged as I watched Searra hurry to the golden door, tossing a glance at me over her shoulder that darted to the window.

I had one leg out the window when her suitor burst through.

“You’re late,” Filaris hissed. Her scowl bounced from Searra to me. “And you should be gone by now! The warlord’s scout is on his way here.”

Sure enough, there was a second knock, this time from the hallway. “Your Highness, Warlord Lavar requests your presence immediately.”

Grief passed over Searra’s features. I rolled my eyes against the stabbing pain in my gut and ducked out of the window. As if I hadn’t crawled out of this very window, into the shadows, a million fucking times before.

It wasn’t exactly how I’d pictured my life outside of that elements-damned tower, but her heart was still mine, and that was all that truly mattered.

For now.

∞∞∞

I wandered the palace grounds while my queen was preoccupied. A group of kids played torchball with torches poorly made from discarded wood. The round mass of fire bounced from tip to tip, wobbling as they ran. I paused to watch with a smile. As kids, Searra had stubbornly pretended to know of torchball, long after it was obvious she had no idea what was going on and was not, in fact, a fire wielder as she’d claimed.

The ball of fire hit the ground, bouncing twice in the sand before fizzling out at my feet.

“Awww,” the tallest child bemoaned. “Brazzo, you have to catch the ball, not swing at it!”

“I didn’t!” came a high-pitched squeal.

I raised a palm, flourishing to catch their attention. With superior sleight of hand skills, I tricked their eager little eyes into thinking it would pop from my palm. Satisfied the audience of tiny demons was entranced, I put my other hand to my mouth and blew the thumb like a flute, letting fire dance over my knuckles. Opening my hand into a circle, I blew through the ring like a circus hoop to a chorus of ooo’s and ahh’s. A tiny bead of fire remained. Flipping my palm, the bead grew and grew until it was large enough to toss toward wee Brazzo’s torch, where it wobbled into place.

“Whoa!” the kids cried in unison.

“Why is it black?!” screeched Brazzo, allowing an older kid the opportunity to steal the ball.

The other kids raced off, but this curious nugget tugged the brocade cuff of my billowy tunic.

“Sir? Are you the demon slayer?”

My muscles barely braced against a flinch. I tussled Brazzo’s tuft of lava-orange hair. “You better catch up.”

“Wait for me!” Brazzo squealed as he chased after his friends, casting me a fearful glance over his shoulder.

I slipped my hands into my pockets and walked to the public-facing section of the palace gardens. Devil’s gardens boasted an impressive number of foreign beauties, for having such a branch up his ass about imports. Torchflowers echoed the kids’ game, their trumpets trading flames from stamen to stamen as they swayed in the breeze. Miniature corpse plants grew bulbs that looked erotically similar to a knot and expelled puffs of smoke when they became overfull. Even the rosebush thorns were tipped in frost’s violet hues.

Pausing at a row of dragoncherry trees, I checked my surroundings for followers. Finding none, I hopped the short metal gate and followed the row of trees with the spicy cherries to the private gardens. Fucking dicks, it was way too easy to reach the site of the mopiest five years of my life. It was almost weird to be there without a flask in hand. Without thought, my gaze wandered to the princess’ chipped window.

“Firefly,” I wondered aloud. “Where is your spark?”

Commotion deeper in the garden perked my ears. Loud voices. An aggressive masculine voice and a soft one, like that of a female attendant. I crept closer.

“You’ll do as I say.” Immediately, I recognized the voice to be none other than the dregs of used-up magma incarnate. “And you’ll do it with a fucking smile.”

“But what if—”

“Haven’t I been clear? Unless you—who’s there?” Stepping deliberately on an exceptionally crunchy leaf, I smirked at Fuegis’ surprise. “Oh. It’s just the stray. Lost your owner, stray? Or did she finally throw you out?”

“Let the woman go or get my flames up your gaping hairy ass.”

The woman in question had gone pale as a sheet. I recognized her as Searra’s head attendant.

Fuegis held up his hands. “I’m not even touching her, stray. Did all those years in the tower scramble your brain?”

“Fuegis!” the woman snapped, shooting me a terrified look. “He burns through regular fire!”

Her hissed warning only proved to antagonize Fuegis further. My knuckles tingled with anticipation, ready to pommel this fucker into the dirt.

“He’s not the only one with fire.” Fuegis huffed like a petulant child, puffing his chest with insecurity disguised as confidence.

“Not like his,” the woman ground out, stepping partially between us. Interesting. She was protecting Fuegis’ life even though she was afraid of us both. She turned and—oh Hell, is she bowing to me? “Apologies. He’s not thinking straight. Please be merciful—”

A strangled half-laugh, half-scoff ripped from Fuegis’ throat, sounding rather painful. The demon responsible for my exile smoked from every pore. It was comical, but when Fuegis put his disgusting hands on the woman’s shoulder and shoved her, all humor fled.

Without taking my sights off the beefed-up asshole in front of me, I told the servant, “Better get out before Big Dog here gets any more riled up. I can take it from here.”

She scampered away, no longer concerned for Fuegis’ well-being.

“Well, well, Fuegis.” I gestured around us. “Funny running into you here. Again.”

“Not so strange. You are a stray. You’ll go anywhere your Princess Whore will feed you scraps.”

I barely had time to be grateful for the solid reason to finally punch the fuck out of this seed-gargling jerk before Fuegis was on the ground below me, my black fire billowing in waves around us.

“I’m gonna turn you into fertilizer, you fucking—”

“That will be difficult,” a beautiful voice sang from somewhere nearby. “Seeing as Geysis requires his help.”

“Firefl—Your Highness.” I dropped my power and stumbled to my feet, bowing to Searra. Inwardly, I cursed whatever gods still watched this sewer for letting her show up before I could kill him. “If I may, there are many decent demons who would assist your inventor. Stronger demons. Like myself.”

Straightening to full height, I thumped my chest. A flicker of amusement graced Searra’s features before it wilted away behind her queenly mask of indifference. She addressed Fuegis, who lay as a lump at my feet. “You have the ingredients Fara gathered?”

Fuegis nodded, getting to his feet with a pathetic groan. “Yes, Your Bone-Bless—”

“Come along. Geysis is waiting for us.” Searra spoke almost mechanically before turning, hands behind her back, to lead us from the garden.