- Home
- Alexia Praks
A Demon's Wrath
A Demon's Wrath Read online
A Demon’s Wrath
(A Nine Kingdoms Novel)
Alexia Praks
SMASHWORDS EDITION
*****
Smashwords Edition License Notes
PRACHAN PRESS
A Demon’s Wrath
(A Nine Kingdoms Novel)
Alexia Praks
Copyright © 2015 by Alexia Praks
All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. This book was self-published by the author Alexia Praks under Prachan Press. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without agreement and written permission of the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
The author can be reached at: www.alexiapraks.com
Published worldwide by Prachan Press
A Demon’s Wrath
A Nine Kingdoms Novel
Alexia Praks
TABLE OF CONTENTS
MAP OF THE NINE KINGDOMS
THE NINE KINGDOMS
Prologue
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Epilogue
MORE BOOKS BY ALEXIA
ABOUT ALEXIA
The Nine Kingdoms
WELCOME TO THE NINE KINGDOMS, a world where humans, angels, and demons lived side by side. A realm where revenge passed on from one generation to another, wars between kingdoms raged for centuries, treachery and loyalty merged into one gray line, and love could heal the wound of hatred.
Humans ruled seven of the kingdoms: Niveus to the north, Virdis to the northeast, Oriens at the east, Bellaria in the mainland, Meridianus in the south, Dardania to the west, and Unda in the middle, surrounded by sea.
Humans were the weakest of the creatures, though they were the majority. Yet those weakest in strength were also the most cunning, twisted, and evil of all. For centuries, they waged wars amongst their own kind, their hunger for more land and wealth never satisfied. They plotted and killed their own bloodline to claim the throne.
The angels ruled and lived upon the Sky Kingdom, residing on the floating islands above the air, and were highly respected and honored for their beauty, wealth, and power.
The demons ruled and lived in the prosperous and fertile island to the southwest and were both feared and hated for their limitless wealth and power.
Alas, they lived amongst one another as friends and as foes, and here, one of their many stories began.
Prologue
Oakley House, Demon Kingdom
WHEN CECELIA VAN ZANDT FLUTTERED her eyes open, the first thing she saw was the bright blue sky through the enormous window on the east. Beautiful was the first word that came to her mind as she lay there marveling at the exquisite scenery of green woods and wildflowers, the smell of ripe fruits and blossoms, and the feel of the warm sunlight on her skin. In the distance, she could hear birds and crickets chirping, and instantly, her mind flashed back to those wonderful summer days years ago when she’d been back in Rosevalley Island, her home, with her family. Just as quickly, reality hit her like a splash of ice-cold water. Her heart raced. Her body became alert, and she was very much aware of what had transpired last night in this very large bed.
She was still a little sore, particularly down there where—
She shut her eyes again and gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to think of last night, but the images of the ruggedly handsome demon Drake McNamara refused to leave her mind.
She heard a chuckle and instantly knew he was there in the room with her. She had thought he’d left her alone after his successful, ardent seduction last night. But it appeared she was wrong.
A blush spread across her cheeks, and Cecelia clutched the blanket tighter against her naked body as she heard his light footsteps moving toward her. A moment later, she felt him sitting on the bed behind her.
Breathe, Celia, breathe, she told herself.
Her heart was still pounding madly when he said, “You’re finally awake, little thief?”
His voice, the deep timbre, did nothing to ease her awareness of him. She flashed her eyes open and turned her head, sucking in her breath once she saw him. He was wearing a white cotton shirt, unbuttoned and revealing his muscular chest. His dark breeches hung loosely about his long legs and waist, as if he’d just put them on in haste simply to cover himself as he went about the room. His chestnut-brown hair, a bit too long, was styled in a disheveled crop about his head and his face. He watched her, his gray eyes scrutinizing, pinning her where she was.
Cecelia thought about feigning sleep but knew it would be to no avail, as he’d already seen her looking at him.
“Yes, sire? What is it you want with me in such early hours of the morning?”
“Not early hours. Rather, ’tis nearly noon.” He grabbed ahold of the thin linen and pulled it off her person.
Cecelia gasped. “Sire!” she uttered, rushing off the bed to retrieve her cover.
Drake caught her wrist before she had the chance to touch the white material and pulled her to him.
Totally and utterly naked as a newborn baby, Cecelia found herself sitting on the demon’s lap, her long dark hair in disarray about her person and her eyes large as she gazed at him. She squirmed a little in his tight embrace as the warmth of his large body and his scent—pure male and spice and woods—did nothing to ease her fascination toward him.
He pulled her closer, his strong hand resting at the small of her back. She could feel him against her, the hardness and warmness of his lean body touching her soft one. Instantly, she felt her core heat up in response and became weak, as if she’d already surrendered to him.
Drake Oswald McNamara, demon king, gazed at the human woman who had stolen his precious jewel, the Pearl of Life. For thirty years, since the seed came to life when he was born, no one had even dared to think about stealing it. For to commit such an unthinkable crime, the punishment was death. And this slip of a female had disregarded the penalty, stolen the jewel, and used it for her own selfish reason. Now she had to pay the price. Death, however, was not on the agenda, and Drake had other plans for her yet.
He ran his fingers through her long hair, stroking the strands gently and then flipping them over her slender shoulder. Under the bright daylight, she was even more alluring, and it made his blood run hot with lust. He flicked his gaze to her flat belly, the belly that would soon be swollen with his jewel, his son, a future demon king. He noted the scar there to her right side just beneath her breast was quite prominent under the light. He brushed his finger across it, caressing the mark of a healed wound from long ago.
Cecelia involuntarily gasped at his feathery touch as a delicious tremor coursed through her being.
He flicked his gaze to her and smiled. “You’re as sensitive as ever.”
Cecelia didn’t like his arrogant remark, nor did she like the smug expression on his face. “’Tis broad daylight, sire. Are you planning to—”
“Aye,”
he said, touching her chin.
“I refuse,” she said abruptly, brushing off his hand. Then before she lost all self-control under his masterful seduction, she shoved him back and rushed off his lap.
She wasn’t fast enough, and he caught her wrist again. With one fluid motion, he had her on her back and him on top of her. He chuckled, rather pleased at her retaliation.
“Playing hard to get again, are we? We both know where you’ll end up.”
Cecelia made an attempt to wriggle herself free. It was no use, as he was stronger, and the harder she struggled beneath him, the tighter he held on to her. It was made worse by the fact that he seemed to be rather enjoying toying with her.
She could feel him watching her, his hot, intense gaze burning her as he waited for her next move. Again, she struggled, letting out little grunting noises at the same time.
He tightened his grip on her small wrists. He suggested, “Fight harder.”
This drew a glare from Cecelia, and he laughed. “Go on. Fight me.”
To encourage her retaliation, he tightened his grip on her even more, which shot pain through Cecelia, and she gritted her teeth. She responded with a growl. Then quick as lightning, surprising even Drake, she moved, opened her mouth, and snapped her teeth onto one of his hands that held her captive.
Drake watched, fascinated, as her small teeth sank deeper into his skin. Odd that he should enjoy the pain she was inflicting on him. He felt his heart pumping harder and faster, and his body—which was usually calm, collected, methodical, and to be sure, utterly immune to pain—buzzed with excitement. Blood began to ooze from his skin as he watched her, a smile creeping across his face, enjoying the moment tremendously. Finally, he released her by pulling back his hand.
One hand freed, Cecelia made a move, her lips wet with his blood. She lifted her head and attacked Drake’s shoulder, sinking her teeth into his skin.
Drake was shell-shocked for a split second and then laughed softly. And here he thought she would have taken the opportunity to run off. Ah, but she really did surprise him, this mite of a human woman.
Cecelia didn’t know this demon king was enjoying her battle with him, and he was now gently embracing her, his large hand holding her at the nape of her neck as she ardently attacked him with her teeth.
Cecelia could taste his blood, salty and wet, in her mouth. She felt quite pleased with her small victory. Finally, very sure he would be begging for mercy now, she moved back. What she saw in his eyes the moment she faced him was nothing less than passion and hunger. Instantly, she felt her heart skip a beat and knew she was in trouble.
“My turn,” he said softly and crushed his lips against hers, his tongue plunging into her mouth.
Cecelia whimpered under his fervent kiss. She could taste his salty blood between them as their lips locked. Her body trembled weakly as he became wilder, thrusting and stroking his tongue vehemently inside her mouth, drawing her deeper into the darkness of his seduction. When he finally lifted his head, she was breathless and lightheaded from the experience.
He watched her as she tried to regain her sense.
“Don’t disobey your king again,” he said, fondly stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Before she could respond to his arrogant remark, telling him he was not her king, he kissed her again.
He was softer this time, his lips warm and firm against hers, and suddenly, Cecelia felt herself lost. She couldn’t think. All she could feel was him—his warmth, his male scent, and his taste. She groaned, and Drake plunged his tongue deeper into her mouth.
Cecelia felt her core bursting as he played with her, wildly stroking her and exploring her. When he moved his head back, he continued his way down her throat. As he trailed lower to her breasts, Cecelia closed her eyes, losing herself once again to the seduction of the demon king.
* * * * *
Chapter I
Two moons prior…
Van Zandt Palace, Dardania Kingdom
LADY CECELIA VAN ZANDT STARED at her king sprawled back in his mahogany and golden chair, his plump hands resting atop his prominent belly. He was contemplating his giant ruby ring on his porky finger, ignoring her speech of plea.
She felt quite annoyed by his lack of interest. He looked as though he were about to fall asleep, but she knew he wasn’t because he was now playing with the ring.
How could he not care? He was her king and, more than that, her uncle. How can he act as though he has not a care in the world? My mother is dying, for God’s sake.
“Surely, sire,” she said, staring at his hazel eyes and chubby face. “Could you not send your most trusted and strong soldiers to fetch it?” She raised her hand in the air to stress her point. “There are many strong soldiers in our kingdom.”
“My dear child,” he said, finally looking at her. “You are young and your mind is weak with neither thought of danger nor death. Listen well, child…”
Cecelia grimaced. She wasn’t a child anymore. She had seen ten and nine summers past, and that made her a grown person. Of course, the king didn’t think thus.
She was petite and, to her annoyance, came short on all the womanly traits men seemed to adore. She was too thin, her hair too dark, and her skin not at all petal white, as fashion required. This was because she’d spent too much time in the sun. She knew people had been comparing her to Queen Eliza Van Zandt, Lady Rosanna Van Dyck, and Lady Juliet Van Dyck, who were all fair beauties.
“I will not send my soldiers to die,” the king said abruptly.
“But, sire, ’tis the only way Mother can live. The healer said she will soon die if we do not do something. The Pearl of Life will cure the poison.”
“There is nothing we can do,” he said slowly.
Cecelia was angry. There was always a solution to a problem, but the king was a narrow-minded man. She knew he would prefer to do what was safe for him.
She fisted her hands and said through gritted teeth, “You do not care for your brother’s wife, then?”
King Leroi Van Zandt turned to look at his niece, his hazel eyes narrowed in distaste as he took in her person.
“Child,” he said, sitting up straight in his large, dominating chair. “I do care for your mother.” He lied and felt no guilt because it came too easy these days. “It is simply too dangerous even for an excellently trained soldier. I do not care to let my men set foot in that forbidden land. The creatures that inhabit that sea of death and those monsters roaming in that forbidden forest, not to mention the demons themselves.”
“But Mother’s life depends on—”
“Have you ever met a demon?” he asked.
Cecelia closed her eyes. Her heart began to beat faster. Her mind flashed back to that night three years ago when she’d first sighted the demons. They were monstrous creatures with two thick, black horns on their heads, faces and large bear-like bodies resembling a beast. She shivered as she remembered the fire burning down walls and furniture, devouring everything in sight, and the figures of demons shrouding around her.
She fluttered her eyes open and looked at her uncle.
“Nay?” King Leroi smiled as he looked at her shaking her head. “I imagine they would give you nightmares for weeks to come.”
Cecelia was still shaking. It was not only weeks. It was years.
“Monstrous creatures they are. Met one many years ago. Killed ten of my soldiers on the spot, ripping them to pieces.”
Cecelia paled and her stomach hollowed.
King Leroi smiled inwardly. “You are afraid at the thought?”
Cecelia clamped her lips together in response.
“Aye, you are not unfounded to be afraid of them. I am a good king. You must appreciate that I am, and this kingdom is protecting you from them.” He leaned forward, his small eyes scrutinizing her. “Do you appreciate what I’ve done for you and your family?”
Cecelia couldn’t look at him. Instead, she stared at the polished marble floor of white and gold. She felt quite numb.
“Do you?”
“Aye, I do,” she softly replied.
He smiled, his plump cheeks nearly covering his small eyes as he did so. “Then you know it is for the best to leave things be.”
She looked up at him then, her brown eyes misting with tears. “You will not send the soldiers to the Demon Kingdom?”
“Nay,” came the harsh reply.
Cecelia had to control her anger by fisting her hands. Her knuckles began to turn white. She felt a sense of defeat. All of her planning from the previous three nights had come to naught. All her plausible explanations as to why this Pearl of Life—a mysterious seed that grew within a giant clam in the Demon Kingdom, which, according to rumors, had the power to cure her mother from the Westwick poison—was to no avail.
“We will not talk of this in the future. Perhaps it is God’s will that your mother would leave us soon,” he said, looking heavenward and crossing himself.
Nay! Cecelia cried in her heart. ’Tis not God’s will that Mother would die soon.
“You are dismissed.”
Cecelia curtsied, and turning on her heel, she left the king’s private study.
In the long corridor, she was still feeling defeated and angry when she met the two women she most wanted to avoid. Even though she’d heard the clop-clops of their backless mules, she couldn’t escape them as she did not know where an alternative exit was except for the one shown to her by a footman. That exit was at the end of the corridor, behind the two vile women.
“Lady Cecelia Van Zandt, already back from whispering your wicked thoughts to the king?” Rosanna sneered, folding her arms across her generous bosom.
Cecelia looked at the blond-haired woman. She was, as usual, exquisitely beautiful today, dressed in a silk lavender gown. Her silver-blond tresses were styled into ringlets about her head, thus showing off her slender, swan-like neck, which was adorned with a large ruby and gold necklace of an intricate design.