Loren still wasn’t sure whether Sable was Bleu’s fated female, meaning there was a possibility she was one of the rare fabled females who potentially had two eternal mates. The last thing Loren needed right now was Bleu ending up in a competition with Thorne for her affection.
He had a brother to kill, a mate to rescue, and had agreed to side with Thorne in a war against another demon kingdom. That alone meant that Thorne and Bleu would be around each other for days or weeks. Loren didn’t want to imagine how dire things would be should they both be Sable’s mate.
Thorne stood opposite him and Sable, his eyes glowing faintly in the near-darkness of the rectangular park, the wrecked Archangel building where Loren had met Olivia as his backdrop.
Bleu stood a short distance away, close to the larger male, his gaze on Sable as she checked her crossbow and the assortment of blades and other weapons strapped to her body over her black combat clothing.
Loren wanted to remind both males that the huntress was not the reason they were here and felt like warning them that if they allowed Olivia to come to harm because of their mutual desire for Sable had led them to bicker over her, he would murder them both.
Sable finished checking her weapons and kept her crossbow handy, the loaded bolt gleaming wickedly in the light from the surrounding buildings.
“You think he’ll show?” she said, her black eyebrows pinned high on her forehead as she looked up at Loren and her golden eyes a dark shade of amber.
He nodded and formed his armour over his fingers, arming himself with his claws, and then held his hand out before him. The air shimmered and his black blade appeared in his grip.
Bleu did the same with his sword and then swept his hand over it, his purple gaze focused on the blade. It transformed into his favoured double-ended spear and Sable stared in fascination. It was probably the first time she had seen Bleu perform that trick.
Thorne snorted and held his hand out, his palm facing the grass. The glowing red pommel of a sword rose out of the ground, followed by a long leather-bound hilt, and a wide steel blade. It edged upwards towards the demon king’s hand and seemed endless as it rose. Bleu arched an eyebrow. Sable looked stunned.
Loren wondered just how big the demon’s sword was.
The blade showed no sign of tapering to a point.
The pommel reached Thorne’s large hand and he turned it, running his palm down the length of the black hilt, and then pulled the point free of the earth. The broadsword stood almost as tall as Thorne’s shoulder, the height of Sable. A formidable weapon.
Bleu did not look impressed when Thorne grinned at him, revealing fangs, a cocky edge to it.
Loren could almost see the mood between the two deteriorating and turning into a competition to gain Sable’s attention.
The Third King shoved the tip of the huge sword into the ground and casually leaned on the guard, his grin holding.
Until Sable went back to checking her weapons, a disinterested look on her face.
“I’m bored of waiting.” Sable scowled at Loren. “Isn’t there something you can do to make your brother show up?”
“Not really. He will come, and when he does, I will make him pay for taking Olivia.”
“Not until we have her, big guy. Remember that. If Vail pops in for a chat, we have to find out where she is before we cut off his head. Okay?”
Loren didn’t need the reminder, not the one about his need to find Olivia’s location because he could no longer sense her, and certainly not the one about the fact he was about to kill his only brother. He had finally lost all hope and desire of saving him. Vail would pay for what he had done and if he had harmed Olivia in any way, Loren would extract that payment slowly and painfully.
A familiar shiver went down Loren’s spine.
“He comes.” Loren readied his blade and turned on his heel, his gaze seeking Vail.
Vail stood where the oak tree had fallen during their last fight, dressed in his black armour, a crazed glimmer in his purple eyes. He crouched and touched the sawdust-littered scarred earth, a frown on his face. Loren felt the pain too. It echoed within him, a thousand hot needles that pricked his bones and dulled his senses. They had both harmed nature in this park and she still bore her teeth at them, her wrath yet to fade. The oak had been ancient, several hundred years old. It would be a long time before nature forgave them for their sin of felling it.
His brother rose to his feet and met his gaze across the tract of dewy grass.
“Where is my ki’ara, Vail?” Loren bit out, unable to keep his anger and pain from his voice.
Vail looked away, a sombre air about him, a marked difference from how savage he had looked when he had taken Olivia from the Archangel cafeteria.