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

34

Ash’ren

A fter leaving six jars of fire, three vials of blood, and a sample of the tree’s weird growth with Geysis, I stalked the halls in search of my woman.

I spotted her through a set of scarlet-tinted tracery windows overlooking the front gates. Haloed by pale ribbons of orange against a violet twilight backdrop, Searra was resplendent in all black. The lacy ruffle at the bottom of her skirt was tied to the side, her legs covered in red dirt. Elements, she was fucking perfect. For a moment, I held my breath, narrowly keeping my mind from spiraling through all the reasons I was not good enough for a queen such as her. She had chosen me, time and time again. And who was I but a lowly orphan to question the authority of Queen Tootsie?

My minxy firefly desperately needed a wash. A perfect opportunity to show off my new tricks. I hailed a servant and did my best to make a request without sounding too much like this Sir Ash’ren everyone kept calling me.

“I’ll have your bath drawn and dinner for two sent to your chambers,” Fara was saying when I reached them at ground level.

“Not necessary,” I interjected. Though she flinched at my arrival, I didn’t pause on Fara. She was probably embarrassed enough without any lingering glances from me.

“Ash, I’m filthy.” Searra gestured to her body. Someone growled, which I quickly realized was me based on her adorable glare. “Stop.”

“I have it handled from here Fara, thank you.”

Fara gawked at me for a moment. Surprised I possessed manners after witnessing me wallop her gross little friend, maybe. She stammered something incoherent before curtsying away.

“Don’t worry about her,” Searra said, looping her hand into my arm, staring after the woman. “I think she’s got something going on lately, but I can’t figure out what it is.”

“Probably whatever’s going on between her and your ex.” Searra’s eyes widened. “You’ll have to ask her.” Using my free hand to stop her nails from their crash course toward her mouth, I lowered my voice. “I have something special planned. But first. . .”

I paused for dramatics. Her other hand slipped around the first, her pillowy chest pressed lusciously against my bicep. She wiggled her brows, and I wanted to take a fucking bite out of her. “Go on. . .”

“Pants.”

Her posture soured, sagging back to normal with a scowl. I laughed.

“I thought you were gonna say something naughty,” she defended herself, that last word a little quieter than the rest. Funny that she censored herself, when I knew her pretty head was full of filthy thoughts.

“Hmmm.” I pretended to think, then shrugged. “Nah.”

“Whatever. I know there’s a catch.” She darted me a suspicious glance, to which I feigned obliviousness. One second. Two, three. Four. Five seconds later came her gasp of realization, gaze darting over my shoulder. There was only one reason I’d ever tell her to put on pants. “Wait! But how?”

I grinned. “Pants first.”

“Ugh! Fine.”

We walked in silence toward her chambers until we reached the yellow door, and it clicked shut behind us. I busied myself with picking out fresh clothes for each of us—fuck the suitor suite, I’d brought my clothes in here—while she rinsed and primped in the washroom.

“Is there anyone in your ranks with connections to the business owners of the markets? Someone trustworthy.” She undressed as she talked, every arc and roll of her womanly figure a distraction. “Ash?”

I dragged my gaze to hers and silently recalled what the flames she’d said, contemplating for a moment. “Jadan mentioned having a makeshift forge in Four. I can speak to them. How’s all that coming along?”

“Great! I think. It’s going fine, I think. I hope.” She finished lacing her trousers, which were little more than leggings that hugged her every curve. She tied her hair, braids and all, up with a ribbon as she approached me at the window. “I’ll have you know, I’m no less afraid of heights than the last time we made this journey. I’m only doing this to quell my curiosity.”

Over my shoulder, her hand grazed the top of my broken wing. It wasn’t the first time she’d touched it, but it was the first time the sweetness of her touch didn’t make me flinch. I bit her nose. “You’ll see. It’s very impressive.”

“In size or performance?”

“Both.”

There was a knock on the door. Instinctively, I jumped back, but Searra held me in place. The servant I’d hailed earlier peeked their head in, pushing a cart with two trays of food.

I combined the food into one tray, covered it, and put the whole thing on top of the change of clothes I’d folded into a picnic basket. Bundling Searra into my arms like a blushing bride, I looped the basket over the broken end of my wing.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Searra giggled.

“Have faith.”

“I do, I do! But do we really have to use the window?”

I silenced her with a playful growl, nipping at her lower lip.

When I stepped from the window onto the climbing tree, the limb sagged with a questionable amount of give. I tested a light bounce and found it was springy enough to launch. With one deep breath and a reassuring squeeze of my lady, I launched into the air.

I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to know the black flames would hold. I could feel them as well as my fully intact wing and could sense the wind through the shadow-like wisps, the way they forced the air to bend to my will with every beat. Knowing the bundle of love in my arms was fearful, I set a slow pace instead of reaching my top speed, a speed that would give the gryffions a run for their money.

“Oh, Ash!” Searra cried. Her hold was loose, her fear of heights momentarily suspended. I watched her beautiful features take in this new version of me, preening under her bewildered scrutiny. She boldly reached for the whipping flames, gasping in delight when they licked her fingers. When she turned that star-speckled gaze onto mine, the force of it sent currents of lightning between my heart and my knot. I wanted to breed her right now, as we flew over the rings of Hell, but I needed to keep my head for the next part of my surprise.

The flight to the Fyran Dam was by no means short, but with the strength of these mysterious black flames, every trip I’d made in practice had taken less than half the time as before. A herd of wild gryffions of the savanna chased herds of okapi below. They were behind us before I could count how many of my favorite meaty prey succumbed to the fire beasts’ jaws. We flew until the ground cracked with lava snaked through dry land like veins, a sign that we neared one of our favorite spots to fuck.

Carefully landing on the rough concrete of the Fyran Dam, I ran seven long strides before coming to a halt. I placed Searra down gently and her arms circled my waist, locking at the base of my spine. Without a word, we swayed side to side, the heaviness of her head on my chest a gentle reminder that my heart still beat.

Firefly’s stomach complained loudly enough to shatter our moment.

“Shall we eat?”

“Mmmmm, not yet.” She tightened her hold, but I extracted myself, kissing the top of her head.

“If you’re to bear as many pups as I plan to whelp upon you, we can’t have your stomach sounding like a wounded bear.”

“Just how many babies do you think I can handle, Ash? I’m a human.” She said the last word like I was missing some kind of point, which she accentuated with a crude gesture to her birthing hips.

“Your hips are perfect for breeding, my love, and being human only means you’ll need a little more rest in between. I’ll take care of your poor cunt and healing body. You won’t need to lift a finger.”

“I like having use of my fingers.” She wiggled the little treasures before my face, diving them into the picnic basket the moment I opened the lid. With a mouth full of sticky bun, she plopped down cross-legged and glared up at me. “Answer the question.”

“Twelve.” I sat across from her, caging her between my crooked knees. “No, Sixteen.”

Her jaw dropped open, fluffy bread fully on display.

“Relax, princess.” I pretended to be disgusted and guided her jaw closed. “As I said. You’ll not even notice.”

“Right, I’ll not notice giving birth sixteen times. You’re such a man.”

“More man than you’ve ever had.”

“The only man I’ve ever had, and you’re delusional! Flames curse my luck.”

I chuckled and peered into the basket, easily deciding on an okapi drumstick the size of Searra’s forearm. It wasn’t flame-seared the way I liked it best, but Tor'cha had convinced me to try this steamed version from her book of family recipes, which she rarely had the chance to use up until—naturally—Searra took charge and allowed everyone to do whatever they Hell they pleased. It certainly worked out. I moaned at the first bite and ripped into the next with the carnivorous urge of a beast starved. Pretty soon, the massive bone was licked clean.

A wide pair of cerulean eyes stared at me over another fluffy cinnamon-dusted bun. She’d barely eaten most of the sticky bun, judging from where it hovered suspended before her gaping mouth.

“What?”

“Please tell me you plan to eat me like that tonight, too.”

Darkness surged through my veins, filling my cock with blood. I growled, more threateningly than I meant to. “Eat your dinner, Firefly, and keep that pretty mouth shut if you want to hear my next surprise before I fuck you so full you beg for my twenty kids.”

“Twenty! What happened to twelve?!”

“Fine, so we compromise. Twelve it is.”

“No, no! That is not what I meant, and you know it!” She stuffed her mouth with the rest of the bun. More blood surged to my cock at the anger in her gaze. “Whatever. What’s this big surprise, if it isn’t your beautiful new wing?”

I cleared my throat. Grabbing those perfect breeding hips, I scooted her closer, her legs loosely draped over mine, her sex burning a distracting hole against my crotch. She dusted her hands off and looked at me intently, reading me like one of her dirty romance books.

“Don’t stop eating.” I nudged the basket with my knee. “You’ll need your strength.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits, but she fished around in the hodgepodge picnic. “What’s going on with you?”

I pulled the folded parchment from my pocket, unfurling it with a saucy wink despite the nerves coiling inside.