Page 31 of The Demon King's Unruly Mate

“Now,” he said, “let us discuss how to deal with the traitors.”

“You disrespectful piece of shit,” Talia shouted, her control finally breaking. “You fucking traitor! You’re just an opportunistic sleaze.”

“Such harsh words from such pretty lips,” Emil chided. “Come, Princess, sit on my lap, and you can claim anything you’d like.” His eyes raked over her body. “So long as you know who’s in charge.”

I snarled, the sound ripping from my throat before I could stop it. The fire beneath my skin flared hotter, demanding release. The crude suggestion, the implication that Talia—my mate—would ever submit to him, sent a wave of possessive rage through me that threatened to consume everything in its path.

The sound seemed to startle even Emil, whose smug expression faltered for a moment. Then his hand shot up, flames already gathering in his palm.

“Die like your father,” Emil snarled, launching a massive fireball straight at Talia’s heart.

Griffin teleported directly in front of Talia. The blast caught him full in the shoulder, the impact spinning him halfway around. His scream cut through the chaos as flames ate through cloth and skin. He stumbled but planted himself more firmly, his good arm raised.

“Go!” he ground out through clenched teeth. “Both of you, get out of here!”

Like hell.

The guards charged forward while the nobles scattered like vermin, teleporting away in clouds of red smoke. Zane and Rava met them head-on, my sister’s fire cutting a swath through the first wave while Zane’s massive fists connected with jaw after jaw.

I locked eyes with Talia. Something passed between us. Understanding. Purpose. Rage.

Emil would not win. He couldn’t.

We moved as one, stepping forward instead of back.

Fire roared from my hands, a torrent of destruction that cleared a path through the guards. I didn’t hold back, didn’t temper the inferno the way I normally would. Behind me, Talia struck fast and hard. Any guard who escaped my initial blast or blades found themselves facing her flames.

These men had chosen their side when they stood with Emil. They’d chosen wrong.

For a moment, victory seemed within reach. The first wave of guards lay scattered across the floor, some moaning in pain, others ominously still. Emil’s smug expression had vanished, replaced by something closer to fear.

“Another wave coming through the west corridor,” Malak’s voice crackled in my ear. “At least ten more guards and?—”

Static filled the earpiece, then silence.

“Malak?” I called, panic clawing at my throat. “Malak, report!”

Nothing.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The doors burst open, and fresh guards poured into the throne room, cutting off our path to Emil. I spun, trying to track threats from all directions at once. A fireball grazed my shoulder, the heat singeing my skin even as I dodged.

“Kaz!” Talia shouted.

I turned just in time to see a massive blast of fire heading straight for her. She vanished in a cloud of red smoke a split second before it would have hit her. Relief flooded through me, followed immediately by dread as I realized I was now exposed on all sides.

Where is she? Where the fuck is she?

Guards circled me, fire dancing between their fingers. Zane and Rava were backed against a pillar, fighting desperately tokeep enemies at bay. Griffin, his shoulder a charred mess, was down on one knee but still hurling fireballs with his good arm.

We were going to lose.

Then I saw it. A cloud of red smoke taking shape behind the throne.

Talia materialized beside Emil, a wicked dagger glinting in her hand. Before he could turn, she drove the blade deep into his lower back. Emil howled, arching in pain, but he didn’t fall. Instead, he whirled on her, fire already gathering in his palms.

“No!” The word tore my throat raw.

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