Page 8 of Princess Claimed

Pain distorts my body, and I fall back off the bed, crumpling to the floor, in agony.

The marked one must struggle. She must feel terror. Intense pain. That is the only way I can claim her and gain the power to exist forever in this realm!

“But she’s transformed since we made our agreement.” I argue with the demon as the pain burns through me. “She is physically stronger. Faster. How can I force myself upon her while she is awake?” I long to feel her at least once before I do the demon’s deed.

The act must be violent. The demon reminds me. She must feel pain and terror as my seed spills inside her.

The demon’s words remind me what I really want.

What Anastasia did today, lying back on the bed, offering her body and blood to me—that is not what I want. Not at all. And if I’m cunning, I can use the demon’s demands for my purposes too. Inflicting the kind of pain he requires will help me tame her, and I will be able to steal some pleasure during my final moments on earth.

“You are right,” I tell the demon.

I am always right.

Pain surges inside me again, but quickly subsides.

Her vampiric form will not be a hindrance, the demon reminds me. We brought the required tools. Prepare her. And prepare yourself so you can claim her the moment she wakes.

I rise, and the pain abates. Stretching my limbs, I’m grateful to be taking my own form once again. It took too much energy to maintain the illusion of her wretched lover. Releasing the straps from her wrists and ankles, I carry her upstairs, positioning her on the bed I had specially designed, and then I fetch the suitcase of tools.

Her unconscious state has a silver lining.

A silver lining. I chuckle to myself. How apropos, given what I injected into her vein and what I plan to do to her now.

Given her vampiric form, I require silver to restrain her, but the element will also help me deliver what the demon demands. And if I’m honest, her new strength makes me yearn to break her even more.

My stiffness throbs, pounding, demanding relief. But I must wait.

Her eyelids flutter in her sleep, and her legs rub together. Is she aroused? Is she thinking of her dead lover? Or remembering our good times in the palace nursery. I wish I knew what was going on in her pretty little head.

My fingers itch to touch her. To feel the slick fluids that might be building inside her. But first things first.

Once I’m prepared, there will be time to touch her, to probe her, to taste her. The demon shouldn’t object to me enjoying her unconscious body, as long as I wait to fuck her until she’s trapped in pain and terror.

Glancing into the suitcase, I chuckle at the silver cage I had custom made to sheath my rod. With it, I plan to take each of her three holes in turn, one after the other in rotation, burning her flesh inside and out, until I finally finish the demon’s business by filling her womb.

And after it’s done, I will die happy, because this will break Ana. She will plead with me. She will promise me anything to get me to stop.

But alas, stopping will not be an option.

Chapter

Six

Flame

“She’s not here! What do we do?” Blade crouches with his hands in his head. I’ve never seen my powerful Black brother like this before. Inconsolable. Not even when he was five years old, and the Master killed Ollie, Blade’s pet rat.

Blade’s hands are smeared with blood, and if he were wearing jeans instead of leather, I bet I’d see more evidence of self-inflicted wounds.

Diederik, DEFTA’s head of security, moves to the back of his desk and picks up the receiver of an old-fashioned, black phone. “I know someone who might be able to help.”

“Then get them!” Crusher brings his fists down on Diederik’s marble-topped desk. A crack forms.

“No need for violence.” Diederik slides a finger along the damaged stone.

In a flash, Phil shifts behind the desk and holds a grenade against Diederik’s chest. “We must save her.”

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