Selma snorted with weak amusement. She’d found him terrifying before—yet now even a normal human would have called him demonic. She’d never seen anyone look so angry.

“Lord.” Cold Eyes seemed to regain her ability to speak, but there was a quake in her once-so-self-assured voice. “We have a trade to off—”

He roared, a bellow that vibrated through the warehouse and shook Selma to her core. He was a mountain of fury, molten rage spilling into the air in clouds of inky black.

Magic.

Both Blondie and Red released their grip on her, diving for cover. Blondie, however, was too slow. Black, sparking magic closed around her ankle before she could escape behind the box.

Her foot twisted with a sharp crack, suddenly pointing at an unnatural angle. The demoness screamed—a sound that turned shrill as the black fog gnashed up her leg like a hungry maw, rending her flesh and splintering her bones in a spray of blood.

Cold Eyes lunged for Selma and she squealed, twisting away from her drawn blade—but the demon didn’t go for her throat. She grabbed Selma by the waist, twisting them both out of the way when the Lord leapt into the room, slamming down on top of the remains of the blonde female.

Snarling, he tore her head clean off with a wet popping sound, tossing it to the side. Then he spun around in a crouch, eyes fixed on Selma and her attacker.

Without preamble, the demoness shoved a hand down the front of Selma’s pants.

Too late, Selma realized what she was doing. Before she could shove the demoness’ hand away, her fingertips connected with the small piece of metal encircling Selma’s clit.

Her humiliation. The ring that’d sealed her fate.

“No!”

Her cry came too late. Harsh fingers twisted the metal, squeezing it down painfully on her nub of nerves.

Fire burned through her pelvis, into her spine, and down her thighs. She fell to the floor with a gasp, shaking as the nefarious magic flooded her blood. Heat bloomed from the metal’s vicious bite, overriding the pain.

And then… then came the need.

“No,” she sobbed, clutching her hands uselessly against the concrete floor as she felt herself soften, sharp pangs of desire rising through her pelvis like an uncurling serpent.

She looked up then as if drawn by invisible powers, and her eyes locked on his—the powerful demon still crouched by the blonde female’s mangled corpse.

His human irises were pitch-black, the pupils filling them, his gaze fixed on her and her alone. His nostrils flared wide, taking in her scent.

She shuddered in terror of being this primal creature’s sole focus—and with longing. Deep, intense, bone-melting yearning.