Page 5 of The Demon King's Unruly Mate

But to hear it stated so baldly, to be positioned so close to what I desired for myself…

Kaz slid a glance my way, his expression cooling further. I couldn’t read what lay behind those golden eyes, but the assessment made my skin prickle.

“Your Majesty,” Kaz started. “While I appreciate the... honor of your offer, I must decline. My clan?—”

“Your clan exists because this throne has allowed it,” my father interrupted. “The first Kadhan should have been executed for his rebellion, not allowed to establish a rival branch. Yours will be folded back into the royal line, where it belongs.”

Kaz’s tail lashed behind him, the only visible sign of his agitation. “Should I accept?—”

“You will,” my father stated, the words ringing with absolute certainty.

Kaz’s jaw tightened. “I have concerns.”

“Your concerns are noted and dismissed,” my father replied. “You will take your sister’s place in this alliance, just as Talia will take Javed’s. Upon my distant death, you will be crowned king under the Fitsum name. All future children will bear the Fitsum name. The Kadhan clan will cease to exist as a separate entity.”

I wanted to scream, to rage, to burn the whole palace to ash. But what choice did I have, truly? I could flee. Disappear into the human world as some of my siblings had attempted before Javed hunted them down. But a life in hiding, stripped of my power and constantly looking over my shoulder, was no life at all.

As much as I despised the idea of letting a Kadhan murderer claim my place on the throne and rule in my name, I could easily picture the clans ripping themselves apart in the power vacuum if left without a clear heir. Emil and his supporters would make their move. The other clans would rebel. Blood would flow through the palace halls just as it had when the Fitsum and Kadhan lines split generations ago.

At least as queen, even in name only, I’d have some influence. Some power. Some chance to work toward what I truly wanted.

I swallowed back the bitter taste of disappointment and straightened my spine. Fine. If this was to be my fate, I would face it with dignity. I would not let them see me break.

I tuned back into the conversation as Kaz’s voice hardened. “And if I refuse?”

My father smiled, the expression never reaching his eyes. “Then the evidence of your sister’s involvement in Javed’s death will be presented to the royal court. I believe the penalty for conspiring against the crown isparticularlypainful.”

Kaz went utterly still, the only movement the slow curl of his fingers into fists at his sides. “Rava had nothing to do with it.”

“The evidence suggests otherwise.” My father’s tone was almost bored. “Of course, as family, such matters could be overlooked. For the good of both our lines.”

Blackmail. Simple and effective. It was exactly the kind of political maneuvering I’d come to expect from the king of the ifrit.

Beside me, Kaz seemed to have reached a similar conclusion. His shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly, a warrior recognizing when a battle cannot be won. “I accept your terms.”

My father’s smile was thin and satisfied. “Excellent. Now, approach the throne.”

My eyes snapped to Kaz at the same moment his did to mine.

“Surely you didn’t think I meant at some vague point in the future?” My father chuckled, the sound startlingly genuine. “No, the mating will happen now. Today. This moment.”

What?

My father signaled to the guards at the door, who opened them to admit the chamberlain. He stopped before my father in a deep bow, holding out a length of cord in offering.

“Father,” I began. Panic fluttered in my chest like a trapped bird. This was happening too fast, spinning out of my control. “Traditionally, there are preparations. Ceremonies. The court will expect?—”

“The court will accept what I decree,” he cut me off. “The formal celebration can come later. For now, we need the bond secured.”

It was really happening. Right now. In this cold hall, with only my father and his chamberlain as witnesses.

I was about to become Kaz Kadhan’s mate.

“Join hands,” King Adron commanded.

I looked at Kaz and found his expression as stunned as I felt. He took my hand, his skin hot against mine. The contact sent a jolt through me, like touching a live wire. I’d expected his grip to be hard, punishing, a reflection of our forced circumstances. Instead, his touch was careful, almost gentle.

King Adron dropped the cord over our hands. His mouth moved, but the words washed over me, fire and clan references blurring together until I could barely make sense of them. All Icould focus on was the cord winding tighter around our hands and the heat radiating from Kaz’s body.

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