She whimpered at the sound, and he huffed with irritation and breathed in again.

There was warmth underneath that fear. Something sultry and rich, tangled with something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Mindlessly, he sniffed her again, pulling her closer to his body to find the source of that enthralling scent.

She whimpered again and pushed against him, babbled some unimportant words of protest, and he smothered his annoyance at her resistance by wrapping her closer to his body, quelling her squirming with the strength of his arm around her back.

She was soft and warm against his chest, the press of her breasts and the small gasps of her breath sending fissures of excitement through his skin. He breathed her in, taking in greedy gulps, wishing he could wash away her terror so its scent wouldn’t disrupt those beautiful notes underneath. It was disturbing, her fear—making unease spread from his gut to his blood, until all he could comprehend was how he needed her to be content.

“You’re safe,” he rumbled, his lips brushing over her skin and raising goosebumps along the slender column in his grip. Mindlessly, he loosened his grip on her throat, brushing his hand along her back to calm her.

The girl spluttered, outrage tingeing the sounds—and then, without warning, sharp pain bloomed through his arm.

Kesh jerked back, more from surprise than anything else, and blinked down at the little creature in his grasp. Her blunt teeth were still firmly lodged in his forearm from where she’d bitten him.

What…?

It was only then he realized what he’d done. He stared down at the woman in his arms in horror, sick dread clenching in his gut. He’d wrapped himself around her body like a fucking meat shield, the urge to protect and soothe still thundering in his blood, making his temples throb and his cock ache.

“Shit,” he muttered, pushing her off his lap hard enough to make her stumble a few steps backward, nearly tripping down the two steps of the dais.

Yeah. She was a Breeder, alright. One of the few human women capable of bearing a demon’s offspring. And so fucking valuable, even the war would have to wait while he prepared her for a mate.

There’d been a time, before his brother took control of the Americas, when specialized Procurers would seek out and train these women, then auction them off to the highest bidder. But since Kain had met Selma, that was no longer how things were, because stars forbid anything be simple. His brother had literally gone to war with the previously reigning family to protect his mate—and by extension, the whole sub-race of sweet-scented little cunts she was part of.

These days, any potential Breeder was to be brought to the nearest lord, who would then be responsible for gentling the woman into her new life and finding a suitable mate for her.

And Prince or not—Kesh was the only lord within a fifty-mile radius.

He scrubbed his face with both hands, trying to steady himself from the onslaught of her scent as he gathered his thoughts. He’d have to ring and mark her, find some unlucky sod who be more than willing to spend the rest of eternity getting mind-fucked by her pheromones, somehow persuade her to allow a mating, and at the same time, while he was preoccupied with playing matchmaker not lose the entire fucking eastern coast to the European king.

He should have left his brother to rot in the old queen’s prison.

Of course, then he’d have been responsible for Selma.

Kesh suppressed a shudder at the thought of claiming his brother’s mate as his own and refocused on the current clusterfuck at hand.

The girl was huddled at the edge of the dais, seemingly too scared of him to try to run away, yet clearly not in any hurry to get closer either, and when he tore his gaze from her to address the sorry demon who’d brought him this nightmare, he found the rest of the throne room empty, save the guard.

“Where the fuck did he go?” he snarled at his guard, getting to his feet to take up pursuit. The Breeder stumbled another step back at the sudden movement, lost her balance—and fell down with a hard thump.

Without thought, Kesh took the stairs in one leap, kneeling by her side to cradle her head in his hand as he ensured she wasn’t hurt.

“Don’t touch me!” she hissed, cringing away from him. She pushed herself along the rug, scrambling to put distance between them.

“He left, your Highness,” the guard said.

“I can fucking see that,” Kesh growled, irritation flaring in his veins, both at the renewed smell of the Breeder’s fear and his own inability to hunt down the demon who dropped her off. He had questions—but the girl was obviously not in a good state. And his first priority was to calm her down.

“Curse it all,” he muttered, finally straightening up and taking a couple of steps back, putting enough space between himself and the girl to hopefully calm her down. If she was an unmarked Breeder, she’d be able to see his true form. Even if she’d been among demons before—which her scent suggested—he knew he would be frightening, his features much less human than most lowly demons’.

“Is she truly a Breeder, my lord?” the guard asked, the note of longing in his voice unmistakable. Kesh rolled his eyes—at least it’d be easy enough to find a man willing to mate her.

“Yes,” he bit out. “And you will tell no one. Understand? We don’t need the entire territory to be distracted.”

“I would never,” the man said, sounding more than a little aghast at the suggestion he might betray his prince.

Kesh sighed, shooting him a glance over his shoulder. He’d hand-picked every single man in his service. He knew they would never betray their loyalty to him.

“My lord...” the guard began.

“Once she is settled, I will put you on the list of potential suitors, Sefron,” Kesh said, returning his focus to the girl still huddled on the floor. “Now, go. Bring food to my private residence.” He wrinkled his nose as he looked the Breeder over, for the first time noticing how grimy she was. “And draw a bath, too.”

“At once, my lord.”

The sound of the doors closing behind Sefron echoed through the throne room, leaving Kesh alone with the Breeder.

7

Georgia

Georgia had seen a lot of demons in her life, but she’d never met one remotely as terrifying as the prince.

He was covered in reddish-black scales, black horns curving from his skull in an imposing arc, and his eyes were black as empty voids. But more than anything, it was the sheer size of him that had her struggling to control her panic.

He had to be more than eight feet tall with the muscular build to match, and the odd hum of power that seemed to vibrate off him made her hairs stand on end. It was like being in the presence of a nuclear bomb—with a temper.

Georgia stared mutely up at the giant demon, too terrified to move or get off the floor, but the prince didn’t return her gaze. Muttering under his breath, he fished out a phone from his pocket and began… texting? Georgia glanced at the device, startled by the sight of the modern gadget in the giant monster’s huge hands. If he’d looked even slightly less menacing, it would have been an amusing juxtaposition.

This was supposed to be her savior? Georgia swallowed thickly as she watched the behemoth. The hairs on her body still stood on end from the sensation of his breath against her skin when he’d sniffed her. She had absolutely no doubt that if this monster decided to rape her, she’d not survive it.

The prince finished his text and shoved his phone back in his pocket before he finally rounded on her again.

She shrank back against the carpet on instinct when those void-like eyes landed on her, her breath hitching in her throat. “D-don’t hurt me.”