Into The Dark (Lords of the Underworld #5.5)(19)
Author: Gena Showalter

Now, she would never know.

Just as she’d wondered what made her so different to him, she wondered what made him so different to her. That they were so alike? That they sensed, on a bone-deep level, the other’s hurt? Because yes, every time she neared him, her heart squeezed and shuddered. Pain always rested in his eyes.

“Fight for me if you wish,” he said through sharp, gritted teeth, drawing her thoughts back to the tent, “but know that I will slay the winner with my bare hands.”

He was not a man given to boasting, Nola knew. He promised—and he followed through.

“So vengeful,” someone twittered happily.

“So mine,” another snapped.

“It is I who will win his seed,” still another growled. “I who will give birth to his offspring.”

“No one will bear my child,” he roared. “I will die first.”

He could not die!

He is not meant to be a slave, Nola longed to shout. He was too proud, too defiant. Traits she also possessed. Which was why she had finally risen up and slain her own mother. Which in turn was why she sometimes cried herself to sleep, wishing she could claw the bloody images from her mind.

Scowling, Nola strode forward and reached out, hoping that, for once, her fingers would do more than ghost through as she tried to shove the Amazons aside. As always, her hand slipped through their bodies as if she were nothing more substantial than mist.

A cry of frustration escaped her.

Still, no one paid her any heed.

“Those of you who desire the vampire will now enter the arena.” Kreja’s hard voice silenced their arguments. Together they did as commanded, bypassing Nola, even stepping through her. “He shall be the first prize.”

“Damn you!” she shouted. “Hear me!”

Of course, they did not.

Shoulders slumping, she closed the distance between herself and Zane and sank beside him. Like the others, he did not act as if he noticed. But she could almost—almost—feel his warmth, and goose bumps broke out over her skin.

“Lily,” Kreja called with a wave of her hand.

Lily, the child-princess who would one day rule this clan, stood from her throne atop the dais and walked to her mother’s side, her little body draped in velvet robes rather than the leather straps and skirts worn by the warrioresses.

She had changed much in the past few months. No longer was this queen-in-training giddy and innocent. Once having run from camp to prove herself worthy of her people—thereby inadvertently beginning a war between the Amazons and the dragons, a war she’d once thought had caused the deaths of Nola and another Amazon, Delilah—she was now solemn. She’d even relinquished her right to claim Brand the dragon shifter, another of the gods’ exiles, as her personal servant, and had offered him up to her people. He now sat among the other slaves.

“You will not fight to the death,” Lily proclaimed in her soft voice. “But you will continue to engage each other until only one of you is left standing. It is she who will earn the right to bed the vampire.”

And when that winner tired of him, she could pass him on to her friends if she so chose. Increasing Zane’s humiliation.

Mating season had never bothered Nola before, but it bothered her now.

Leave. After Nola’s own experience with the gods’ cruel contest, she had no desire to watch another. For Zane, however, she would watch. And she would wish.

Every female in the ring assumed the battle stance.

There was only a slight pause before Kreja said, “You may begin.”

Immediately the women leapt into action. Metal clanged against metal, grunts abounded, and sand was flung in every direction. Seconds bled into minutes. Minutes to what seemed hours. An eternity. Bodies began collapsing, cries of pain echoing, one pink-haired female savagely working her way through the masses.

Soon, she was the only one standing.

Over. Done.

Nola wanted to vomit.

“And so we have a winner,” Kreja decreed proudly. She motioned to Zane with a wave of her hand. “Claim your prize, beloved. Know that we are pleased with the strength and tenacity you have demonstrated this day.”

As the female approached, Zane trembled. In rage. Perhaps in fear.

I’m so sorry, vampire. “I won’t let her have you,” Nola vowed, though she knew there was nothing she could do to stop what was to come.

CHAPTER TWO

THE FEMALE WAS GOING TO KILL HIM, Zane thought dazedly, dispassionately.

She’d won him, however long ago she’d fought for him—one day? Two? Weak as he was, he’d lost track of time. All he knew was that she’d tried multiple times to bed him. But she needed a hard c**k for that, and he hadn’t given it to her.

Denying her had delighted him. Still did.

Now two of those wretched Amazons stood around him, staring down at his naked body. If he hadn’t been half-starved and teetering on the brink of total collapse, those stares would have sent him into a killing rage. He hated being looked at as much as he hated being touched.

He’d spent too many centuries as the demon queen’s whore, hers to use, hers to hurt. And hurt him she had.

Many times, she’d forced him to drop to his knees and “worship” her with his mouth. Many times, she had forced him to clean each and every one of the horns covering her body. Again, with his mouth. Many times, she had forced him to do the same to others while she watched.

But the worst… He shuddered, hating to remember. But just then, his memories were all he had. They filled him up, consumed him, eating him bite by rancid bite. She’d blindfolded him and bound him to her bed. He had not known who kissed and touched him. Male, female. Demon, another slave. He hadn’t known.

He hated, hated that there were people in Atlantis who knew of his humiliation and subjugation. He hated that those people had seen him naked, tasted him, brought him to climax in terrible ways, yet he did not know who they were.

Bile rose from his stomach into his throat. Demon whore. That’s what he was, all he would ever be. Demon whore, demon whore. He squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to cover his ears, but could not. His arms were tied, true, but even if he had been free, he was too weak to move.

Demon whore.

How could he have allowed such things? And he had. Allowed them. He could have walked away at any time. Yet he hadn’t.

All for the love of a woman. A slave, as he was supposed to be now. Marina, that detestable queen, had promised to set his beloved free if Zane pleased her until she grew tired of him. But she’d never grown tired of him, and Cassandra, his chosen mate, had begun to hate him as a result. For all he knew, she could have been forced to watch him with the queen.