The chill in her blood reached her heart. “You’re going to… breed him? He’ll never stand for that!”

Marathin chuckled and finally stepped close enough that she could make out his face in the darkness.

“I care nothing for the Lord’s fate—what happens to him will be in the hands of the queen. I only care about you. The Prince thinks he’s procured my services on the promise that I get to mount you for a night, along with a sum of money, before he hides you away as his secret mate so no one will discover what he did. You and I know better.”

“You’re betraying him, too.” At this point, the fact that he would double-cross even the Prince of Demons didn’t shock her—it was merely a statement as she watched him slide a gloved hand over the side of the car. “You’re going to give up everything just so you can claim me.”

He smiled, faint starlight reflected in his teeth. “That is how much I love you, yes.”

Love. The word seemed to mock her as the face of the man who had truly given her his scarred heart flashed in her mind.

“You’re sick,” she snapped, anger suddenly welling up to mix with her fear. “You know nothing of love—you only want to possess me like some trinket! And you ripped my mate from me, thinking you could ever replace him. I will never be yours, you sick bastard!”

His smile turned into a sneer. “You signed my contract—I own you, every ounce and every breath. Did you truly think I was going to stand by and let someone take what’s mine? I found you—I was the one who first mounted your little cunt, the first to teach you how to take a demon’s ridges. You begged me to keep you, remember?”

Before she managed to react, he took the final few steps to reach her and his hands came down on each side of her, clamping onto her shoulders. This close, she could see his face clearly, and the rage marring his handsome features was terrifying.

“I’ve given up so much for you. All I demand is that you obey the contract you signed. Once you’ve learned who your true master is, I will be good to you again.”

Selma squirmed to get away. Though she knew it was pointless, instincts for self-preservation took over, and she fought and kicked at him in her desperation. Once, he’d been able to sway her with his handsome features and kind mannerisms, but whatever attraction she’d had for him was gone.