Page 4 of King's Obsession

“Is it not a double standard, when you stand here before me talking of weakening bloodlines and other hokum, when you act like a petty human who can’t get his own way? Did you take the time to get to know George, your son’s blissful one? Find out about his pure bloodline? No. He is classed as one of the highest pedigrees. One who is the only remaining true pureblood bear shifter from a clan that is older than your family line.”

“He is of no importance. None.”

Asmodeus’ lips curled in distaste at the lack of acknowledgment that they had made a mistake. “You have no interest in anything beyond that of your own nose, and that is what is wrong with your argument,” he snarled.

Randal coughed violently, his features reddening. “I—”

“Enough.” The whiplash of his tone brought stillness from the couple, and rightly so. “Do not bother me again with your petty nonsenses.”

He translocated back to his personal chamber, striding over to the stone sitting on a cushion at his bedside. He resisted a heartbeat before he reached to clasp it in his fist. His eyes shut at the familiar feel and warmth against his skin, his pulse sped up with the knowledge of what he would see when his eyes flickered open. He resisted once more, aware it was futile, as he opened his eyes to look within the visual portal the stone afforded him. His breath caught at the vision before him.

Naked and aroused, the man lay with his eyes shut, his hand stroking his cock. The head glistened in the flames of the candles flickering around the bed. A trembly moan came from who Asmodeus couldn’t say. His gaze riveted to the hand touching what he wanted. What he denied himself.

Full lips parted, and a whisper followed. “Watch me.”

He couldn’t stop. Nothing, not even a threat to life could make him turn away as sweat sheened the bronze skin. As the speed of the hand stroking the shaft increased, the eyes opened and met his. The moment, despite the distance, came with an intensity that continued to surprise Asmodeus, as ribbons of cum splattered the shuddering chest.

He could smell the cum, imagine the taste on his tongue. Almost like he’d projected his thought, the man ran a lazy finger through the cum and brought it to his lips to taste. His gaze held Asmodeus captive, as they had the first time he’d seen those eyes in the forest.

His own arousal scented the air, and he moaned in distress, dropping the stone on his bed. His fingers pressed into his eyes as if to banish the image forever burnished in his brain. “When will I find the answer?”

You already have it.

Chapter Two

Dougal

The demons are coming. I can feel it in the air.Dougal snorted at his random thought. The demons had already been, were there, and were fast becoming a part of the forest Dougal had dedicated his life to. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the demon Dougal had been waiting for, but the demons drawn to his space were a step in the right direction.

It had been a week since Scott and George had their meeting with the other two blissful pairs, helping them to find resolutions and a chance to build their life together. Dougal had attended, more out of curiosity than anything—information gathering in the hopes that his own demon would finally come to his senses, which didn’t happen. He was left, as he always was, with the trees and the bushes for company.

To so many who just visited, they saw the forest as a group of trees, bracken, wildflowers, and grasses. To them it was pleasant, mildly boring, but in their mind, there wasn’t anything happening in the scenery they walked through, and largely ignored.

The forest folk, those who lived there, didn’t see things that way. Dougal had been on the land where the forest now stood, since there was nothing but a few seeds and wispy saplings filled with hope for more. To him, the forest was the encapsulation of life, complete with births, deaths, drama, love stories, and survival. Every being in his space, whether it was the trees that soared high into the sky providing shade and relief to smaller plants below, or the smallest rodent scuttling among the rotting leaves on a fall evening—they all had a place, and perhaps more importantly, they knew their place and owned it.

Although that didn’t stop some of the plants from getting a little over ambitious. “Look at you.” Dougal shook his head at a vine that was doing its best to weigh down and suffocate a younger tree. “You have been growing fast, you little rascal.”

He tugged at the tendrils of the vine, moving them off the bark in the higher branches, and settling them around the base of the tree. “If you swallow up that tree, then it dies, and you’ll fall to a messy heap on the ground. You’ll never find the sun that way. Work with the tree, not against it.”

The tree gave a grateful sigh and rustled its leaves. Dougal got the impression that the tree had spent the past few days wishing it had fingers and thumbs, so he could pluck off the vine that was pushing through the crevices of its rugged skin. Dougal patted the now clear bark. “You’ll be fine. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

Wandering back to his small cottage, it was natural for Dougal to think about his missing demon. It wasn’t something he intentionally did—or at least he tried not to, but sometimes, like seeing George’s open acceptance of Scott, or the way Silas and Dakata were now both bound to Silas’s tree, it was difficult not to feel bitter at times.

“What choice have I got but to wait.” Bending his head to step inside the coolness of his one-room space, Dougal wasn’t worried about anyone overhearing him. From the moment his cottage had been built, he’d kept his specific demon’s privacy in mind.

I even keep you a secret in my thoughts, refusing to use your name for fear of outing you, and yet…

The entire cottage was warded with a combination of troll and demon magic, making it impossible to find by people from outside of the forest, and no sounds ever escaped the wards into the surrounding forest.Wouldn’t want to scare the trees, or make the grass blush,Dougal thought with a quick smirk.

The problem, Dougal considered for the gazillionth time, was that while his demon was powerfully strong, he was also hellishly conflicted.The man just overthinks too much,he thought ruefully. Scooping himself a mug of cider from the cauldron he kept over his small fireplace, Dougal situated himself in his armchair, his eyes straying to the stone his demon had left him such a long time ago.

It tempted him. All he had to do was pick it up, and he’d be able to see whatever his demon was doing. But Dougal resisted. It was too much fun to tease and taunt his demon with a hard cock when the nights were long, but deep inside, Dougal knew he wanted more. Also, he deserved more. He knew that, too.

So many times he thought it would be better for both of them to leave—leave the forest, leave behind the stone that was his only tie to the demon, and just start again somewhere new. The demon would never find him again if he did that—just thinking about it had Dougal squeezing his eyes tight against the pain.

Not that he would do it. The world had changed so much since Dougal had claimed his land and carved out his space. Wide open spaces, like the land the forest had been built on, would be impossible to find in a land bursting with overpopulation.

And the people in the forest had become Dougal’s family over the centuries. When Silas had first turned up, looking for his tree, Dougal pointed him in the right direction. A bond was made and new connections formed. Then came Wanda… Dougal sighed into his mug, glad she had finally found someone—her blissful one—to keep her happy, and more importantly, safe.

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