Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

M idnight found her once again traversing the dark woods alone. When she had first made this trek two nights before, she had been terrified by the vastness of the forest, and the depth of the shadows therein. Tonight marked her third such trip, and her fear, while somewhat diminished, had also become more focused. She was no longer afraid of the journey through the forest—she was afraid of what was waiting at her destination.

Tonight, if all went as planned, she would be mated by a demon.

Had she been traveling unencumbered, she might have turned back under the weight of the sin she was planning to commit. Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how one looked at it—tonight she also had a physical burden to help distract her mind from her fears and apprehensions.

The portrait of the king was not the biggest painting Malissa had ever seen. In the throne room, there were portraits of the king's ancestors that were so big they required two men to carry them. Wulfgang's was smaller than that, thank the Creator.

Still, it was no easy task. More than once, Malissa had to pause to catch her breath, and by the time she finally reached the clearing, she was sweating profusely.

She propped the portrait against one of the tall pillars of the darkstone ring, facing the central altar. In the moonlight, the king's visage seemed to stare out of the painting at her, his eyes filled with reproach.

"Forgive me," Malissa whispered.

She didn't really mean it. She had no reason to apologize. It was Wulfgang who had forced her into this situation. The man had murdered twelve wives, and he would do the same to her if she didn't take matters into her own hands.

She unshouldered her satchel and set to work preparing for the summoning. She lit the candles and arranged them atop the five shorter stones of the darkstone ring. Then she stepped out of the circle and stripped off her gown. The night air felt good on her damp skin.

She picked up the book and read the incantation. When she was finished, she set it down again, on top of her clothes. This time, she didn't say anything. She waited for the demon to speak first.

He didn't make her wait long.

" Malissa ."

The deep, dark rumbling of his voice sent a frisson of excitement racing over her skin. She did not attempt to cover herself as she had done on the previous two nights. There was no point. The demon had already seen all of her, touched all of her, tasted all of her. There was nothing left for her to hide.

"So," Beliath said. "You've returned."

His tone made it clear he was pleased.

"You doubted that I would come?"

The demon didn't answer. He merely purred in amusement. He knew damn well she would be back, after what he had done to her the night before—after the way she had begged for it so shamefully.

"And I see you've brought company this time…"

Malissa realized he was looking at the portrait of Wulfgang leaning against the pillar of the darkstone ring.

"A pity our offspring has to look like him," the demon said. "I'm much handsomer than he is."

"I wouldn't know," said Malissa. "I still haven't seen you."

"Perhaps it's better that way. I wouldn't want to frighten you off."

You just said you're handsome , Malissa thought.

Then again, sometimes beauty could be fearsome too. She was thinking of the wolves she had seen from time to time in the forest around the castle, and the stories she'd heard of the great striped cats that prowled the steamy jungles far to the south. She was thinking of dragons.

She may not have seen what Beliath looked like, aside from his eyes, but she had certainly felt him. His broad, muscular shoulders. His long, curving horns. His forked tongue.

She'd felt his face too, felt it wedged tightly between her open thighs. It was not enough for her to form a clear mental picture of the demon's visage, but it was enough to know it did not look entirely human.

Perhaps Beliath was right.

Perhaps it was better if she didn't see him.

"Before I step inside the circle with you," she said, "I want to clarify the terms of our agreement."

"Very well."

"You are going to impregnate me," she said. "The child will be a boy. You will use your magic to speed up the gestation, so that it only takes seven months, instead of the usual nine." She gestured toward the portrait leaning against the stone pillar. "And you will give the child features that make him appear to be King Wulfgang's son."

"And in return," said Beliath, "before the child is born, on the day of the autumn equinox, you must return and free me from my imprisonment within this darkstone ring. If you do not, you will die giving birth to the child. I'm afraid I do not have any parchment for you to sign in blood. Unless you happened to bring one of your own, we will have to settle for a handshake."

Malissa hesitated.

She was filled with uncertainty. There was so much at stake here. The demon had not killed her last night when she had stepped into the circle with him, but that did not mean he wouldn't do so tonight. Or perhaps he planned to kill her later, after she had freed him from his imprisonment. She doubted he would do that when she had his offspring growing inside her womb, but when it came to demons, one could never be sure.

On the other hand, she knew exactly what would happen to her if she did not follow through with the plan.

She had no choice. She had to do this.

Actually, that wasn't entirely true. She did have one other option—the one Dr. Jaeger had offered her earlier that day—but the mere thought of it made her shudder with disgust.

Malissa stepped into the darkstone ring and strode forward to the low, circular altar at its center. She extended her right hand.

"Deal," she said.

Invisible fingers took hold of her own, and Beliath's voice chuckled out of the seemingly empty space in front of her.

"It's a brave woman who offers her hand to a demon," he said. "I admire that."

I'll soon be offering a lot more than my hand , Malissa thought.

Then the demon did something unexpected. He pressed her fingers to his lips. The same lips which had touched her last night in the most intimate of places.

"Your Highness," he said. "Tonight, I am at your service."

Malissa suddenly found herself blushing, partly from the oddly chivalrous attitude the demon had adopted, partly from the implications of that final word.

Service .

Beliath tugged her hand gently, drawing her to him, and Malissa allowed herself to be drawn. She did not struggle when she felt his powerful arms coil around her body, and she did not fight when he pulled her against his immense frame. She did not need to see him to know that he was ready to make good on his part of their bargain. She could feel his readiness pressing against her belly, hard and throbbing and hot.

The demon brought one of his hands up and ran his fingers through her hair. Malissa lifted her face in expectation of a kiss.

But the kiss did not come.

"Something is wrong," Beliath whispered.

"Wrong?"

There was certainly nothing wrong with the part of his anatomy required to consummate their pact. It felt as hard as an oak rod encased in a sheath of supple leather, and the tip was leaking profusely, staining Malissa's skin with the precursor of the demon's seed.

"You are troubled," he said.

Malissa laughed softly in spite of herself.

"I'm in the arms of a demon. What woman wouldn't be troubled by that?"

"You'd be surprised," Beliath purred, running his fingers through her hair a second time. "But that's not really what's troubling you. There's something else. Tell me what it is."

"There's nothing else, I swear."

The fingers in her hair suddenly tightened into a fist.

" Tell me ," the demon growled.