Shadow's Seduction(87)

He traced to the terrace railing to survey his legions.

Uthyr joined him. Though each of the great dragon’s steps shook the terrace, he could move with a catlike grace when he wanted to, a boon whenever he used his other talent: chameleon cloaking to the point of invisibility. —I can give you counsel, friend, but I need to know more about your past. What made you hate her?—

Sian didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not yet.

—Why would you even have met her so long ago? Fey and demons didn’t run in the same circles.—

Back then, the fey had still been known as elves, and Sian’s twin, Goürlav, had just inherited the crown of Pandemonia. “An explorer discovered a portal between our kingdoms, but wariness rose on both sides, the species having nothing in common. So the king of Sylvan agreed to foster me in his realm for a season.”

A spell had enabled Sian to speak Elvish. For security reasons, it had also bound his abilities to trace and mind-read.

No spell in existence could have helped Sian understand the elves’ stifled emotions, calculating ways, and superior airs. Many considered the demons little better than beasts.

Yet Goürlav had ordered him to go, wielding his power over his twin for the first time, infuriating Sian. . . .



“Why can we not simply attack these uncanny newcomers?”

“Your thoughts are forever turned to conflict.” Goürlav exhaled. “We can always go to war with them. Yet a chance for peace is fleeting. I should at least try for it before the hell-change robs me of reason.” He clamped Sian’s shoulder. “If this works, if you help me make this work, we could all know prosperity as never before. Our realms need each other’s resources; with trade, we could better the lives of all elven- and demonkind. . . .”



Sian had resisted right up until he’d scented Kari on the other side.

Uthyr said, —At least tell me, demon: Why make her spin?—

“Because she can never complete her task, and it will please me to watch her fail.”

The dragon winced, his scales rippling. —Sometimes you forget there’s a difference between trickery and cruelty.—

“That female taught me much about cruelty.” She’d used his feelings for her to manipulate him, digging for demon weaknesses without a qualm—because she’d seen him as a lesser being. Her bigoted parents had taught her that all beings were vastly inferior to the elves.

Sian recalled when Kari had asked if demons formed bond pairs. He’d figured she would need to know all of the details about demon matehood—graphic though they were. . . .



“A male can sense a female is his. Yet the only way to be absolutely certain is through intercourse.” Pulling on his collar, he said, “A demon cannot spill seed for the first time with any but his fated female. Some males bed many with this hope. It’s called attempting.”

“How convenient,” she sniffed. “And primitive.”

Though the elves formed bond pairs, no physical limitations constrained them; they could marry where they pleased. With so much control over their emotions, they could repress any instinctive drives.

He’d found them to be like unfeeling shells. But Kari was different.

She asked, “And if attempting is successful, do demons wed?”

“Only royals. But marriage is just a formality. If a male finds his mate, he will mark her neck. That is a lifelong pledge.”

“Mark?” Realization flashed in her dual-colored eyes. “A demon would . . . bite a female?” She was appalled. “Like those disgusting vampires? How barbaric!”

“Have you ever even spoken to a vampire, Kari?”

She blinked in confusion. “Talk to a vampire? Why would I bother?”



He’d told himself that he would introduce her to other species, expanding her views—that once she was separated from her parents, she could shed their narrow-mindedness. He hadn’t realized how deeply ingrained her beliefs had been.

Kari’s reincarnation was fey once more, so he had little doubt she’d been raised the same way.

And her godsdamned eyes matched.

All the same flaws—yet none of the charms.