Inferno of Darkness (Divisa Huntress #2) - J.L. Weil Page 0,68

happen?”

Ashor shrugged. “No. Not exactly.”

“What does that mean, not exactly?”

“I’ve heard rumors it was possible. But seeing as I’ve never been mated before, I didn’t know for sure.”

“I can’t control them.”

“Hmm. That is a problem.” He laid his hands over mine, closing them into fists. “I can help you with that,” he murmured, and when he released my hands, the flames were gone.

So many thoughts swam in my head. One I gravitated to over and over again. Another I ignored. “Okay,” I agreed. “If you teach me how to shift, how to control the flames, I’m willing to learn.” If this was how I protected my family, saved Ashor, then I was willing to give in to my dark side.

He lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I suggest you don’t show our host that little trick.”

I snatched my hand back. “I wasn’t planning on it.” Needing to do something with my hands, I reached for the carafe of hot water and refilled my cup, seeping a little sack of black tea into mug—just as the door burst open and two demons with spears darkened the doorway.

Ashor groaned at the disruption.

“The queen will see you now,” one of them announced, flashing a row of decayed teeth. Hell needed a dentist.

Wonderful. I threw back my mug of tea, needing the caffeine jolt, and prepared myself. Coffee would have been better, but I’d take whatever I could get at this point.

Perhaps slamming the tea had been a bad idea. As I got to my feet, it sloshed around in my stomach. I walked by the demons, following Ashor out of the room. One of the bastards grabbed a piece of my hair, his forked tongue darting out and licking the blonde lock.

I was going to be sick.

Halting my steps, I whirled to face the nasty culprit, yanking my hair out from his grasp and giving him my best what-the-fuck face. “Touch me again, and I cut off your—”

Crack.

The demon’s head lolled to the side, his clear wings that seconds ago had been fluttering with excitement falling flat. I blinked. The pair of hands encircling the demon’s neck released him, and the beast collapsed onto the floor.

Ashor had snapped his neck.

“Ready, luv?” he asked, turning toward me as if nothing happened. As if he hadn’t just attacked one of Verena’s guards. He held out an arm to escort me, a storm churning in his eyes.

Oh, he was pissed.

I couldn’t imagine what he would have done to the demon if the asshole had done something worse. A terrifying thought.

Without saying a word, I slipped my hand through his elbow.

“Have someone clean up the trash before we return,” Ashor instructed the other demon.

What would Verena say about this? The demon wasn’t dead, just indisposed until his body healed, but still….

17

My plan to break Ashor out of the underworld hadn’t changed, just altered based on our current predicament. I had every intention of thwarting the prince’s plan to hand over Verena to his mother for the kill. Perhaps the Queen of Envy and I could work together, join forces against Kali. I just didn’t know if she was trustworthy. Demons rarely were, and Verena struck me as someone who was calculating in her decisions, much like another queen I knew.

Verena’s throne room was like night to day compared to Kali’s, and I wasn’t just talking about the sunlight. The stone tile shimmered gold like a coin at the bottom of the sea, reflecting off sunbeams streaming through the open windows. A breeze blew through the room, carrying traces of pine, and sent the white fabrics hanging throughout the room dancing in the air.

The queen was sitting on a throne made of white birch. Ivy wove in and out of the carved railings, tangling itself around Verena’s exposed calves. The plants seemed alive, like hissing snakes ready to strike. I made a mental note not to get too close for fear of becoming entangled.

Verena was sex incarnate in a silk gown of emerald silk that clung and molded to her curves in a way that left little to the imagination. A crown of gold fashioned so it twisted like twined tree branches sat atop her strawberry-colored hair. It wasn’t as exquisite as Kira’s, but I found myself drawn to it.

She saw me admiring her crown. “Not as glittering as yours, and it is as heavy as it looks. I always envied the prince for his ability to craft a nearly