Page 13 of The Demon King's Unruly Mate

My fingers curled into fists at the memory. I should have seen Javed’s cruelty sooner, should have recognized the danger he posed to Rava beyond just a political marriage she didn’t want. The signs had been there in the whispers about his temper,the rumors of servants who disappeared, the way other royals gave him a wide berth at functions. But I’d missed the monster lurking beneath the crown.

Then came the attack. The relics. The control. My own hands becoming weapons against those I’d sworn to protect.

Never again.

I pushed away from the door and straightened my shoulders. I needed to keep my shit together and stop letting Talia haunt me, crown and mate bond or no.

The rest of the day was spent between unpacking equipment and my secret search. I caught myself absently touching my wrist while scrolling through Leona Cadum’s carefully curated social media. She was the perfect ifrit female attending formal events, family gatherings, appropriate cultural celebrations.Tooperfect. No personal interests, no casual photos, nothing that revealed the woman behind the polished image.

This would be easier if I could hand it to Malak. He could find shadow accounts, deleted posts, the digital breadcrumbs people leave when they’re living double lives.

But this wasn’t clan business. This was my burden to carry.

That night, I dreamed of Talia. Of her mouth on my skin, her body beneath mine. I woke sweating and hard, the phantom scent of jasmine and embers filling my nostrils.

The next day, Malak’s morning drink carried hints of jasmine that had me halfway across our new headquarters before I recognized the scent wasn’t hers.

“Something wrong with the tea?” Malak had asked, eyebrow raised.

“Just thought I smelled something,” I’d muttered, turning back to my laptop where I’d been mapping Leona’s purchases against local businesses. A trail of small charges led north toward the Canadian border. Gas stations. Convenience stores.A diner off the highway. Leona—or whoever had her purse—was on the move, but not covering their tracks well. Amateurs.

By the third day, Zane’s knowing looks had me snapping at my oldest friend over a simple sparring session.

“Your form’s sloppy,” I’d growled after he’d knocked me flat for the third time.

“The fuck it is.” He’d squared up to me, tail lashing behind him. “What’s got your horns in a twist?”

I walked away rather than answer, unable to explain the restless energy crawling under my skin. Back in my office, I found a response to my inquiry about Leona. I’d posed as an old family friend looking to surprise her with a book I just couldn’t remember the title of.

The bookstore owner’s reply confirmed what I’d suspected from her past purchases. Leona was a regular, but she hadn’t been visiting alone. She’d been bringing a human male with her consistently over the last few months. Close enough that he bought out Leona’s entire wish list before her ‘old family friend’ had a chance.

A sudden violent abduction, the family claimed. Yet here was Leona, building relationships her family either didn’t know about or chose not to mention. The story wasn’t adding up.

The fourth day, I nearly incinerated my desk when Rava’s not-so-gentle “Are your ears blocked, idiot?” hit too close to the truth I was denying. Iwasan idiot—for claiming Talia, for running away, for thinking I could simply ignore the mate bond humming between us.

“What’s wrong with you lately?” Rava had demanded, perching on the edge of my desk. “You’re distracted. Irritable. Not sleeping.”

“I’m fine,” I’d growled.

“Bullshit.”

“Drop it, Rava.”

She’d studied me for a long moment, her expression softening. “Whatever it is, you know you can tell me, right? We’ve been through worse.”

The urge to confess everything had been overwhelming. To tell her about Talia, about the mate bond, about the mission Adron had forced on me. But the words stuck in my throat. How could I admit I’d mated the sister of the man who’d nearly destroyed us?

Rava would know why I did it. Know, and feel guilty for something done to her.

“I know,” I’d said instead. “Just got a lot on my mind.”

She hadn’t believed me, but she’d let it go.

On the fifth day of my slow descent into madness, I returned from a perimeter check that I’d used to finalize my plans for tracking down a small bed-and-breakfast near Niagara Falls. The receptionist had confirmed a young ifrit woman matching Leona’s description had checked in yesterday, accompanied by a human male. They’d paid for three nights in advance.

If I left now, I could be there before nightfall. But something held me back. The pieces of this puzzle suggested a very different picture than what Adron had painted. I needed to see for myself before making any decisions.

As I stepped through the warehouse doors, a familiar scent hit me.

---