Cover

BRANDED

Make sure you read BRANDED - the sinfully sexy beginning to Selma’s demon experiences.

Summary

He is everything she fears - She is everything he needs.

On the run from the demon hell-bent on possessing her, Selma Lehmann finds herself in the hands of a far more dangerous enemy.

Lord Protector Kain is ruthlessly handsome, brutally savage—and exactly the fate she’s feared since the day she learned what kind of creatures hunt her from the shadows. They call her a Breeder, and there’s only one thing a demon Lord could want from her… But if she’s ever going to reclaim her freedom, she will have to trust the monster who swears to protect her from his own kind.

Kain never wanted a mate—only pain awaits a demon foolish enough to give his heart to a human.

When tantalizing Selma lands in his lap, he knows his duty is to put her to auction and return his focus to the war threatening to bring his entire race to its knees.

Yet every instinct in his body roars to make her his, and he’ll have to choose. His heart—or her soul?

To get Selma’s full story, make sure you read BRANDED before delving into this sinfully delicious demon Romance.

Please note: this book has previously been released as a 6-part serial under the same name.

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1

Kain

At first, Kain had no idea why the woman with the dirty walnut hair drew his attention the moment she stepped foot in the dingy bar.

He’d been lost in his thoughts, planning the scouting mission he’d be taking a handful of his best warriors on in a few hours, when he spotted her. She was practically creeping along the wall to the most secluded booth she could find.

Kain’s gaze slipped from the crude map of the industrial center he was drawing on a napkin, where his scouts had spotted female demons a few times. He tracked the human girl as she pressed into the booth as if trying to meld into the shadows.

She was a scared-looking little thing, seemingly in her twenties and dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and jeans, with long dark hair and bangs that nearly covered her eyes—completely unremarkable in every way.

Yet there was something about her that nagged at the edges of his consciousness, poking and prodding, like forgotten lyrics to a melody playing on loop in his mind.

Irritated, he narrowed his eyes as he watched her order her food from a bored-looking waitress. She fidgeted and didn’t look the other woman in the eyes, slender fingers playing nervously with the edges of the menu, and when she was alone again she curled in on herself as if she hoped she’d become one with the wallpaper.

What was it about her? He’d never seen her before—of that he was certain—she didn’t set off any alarms of being dangerous, and he was more than used to seeing shady humans trying to dodge detection.

It was unsettling, really; the pull from somewhere in his gut resembled the instincts that kept him alert of potential dangers, but this little thing was no threat.

With a force of will, Kain pulled his attention back to his napkin. Whatever it was about her that had him on edge, it wasn’t as important as his upcoming mission. If a band of females had truly set up a nest in his territory, he needed to get to them before they could fulfill whatever nasty purpose they had.

And—of equal importance—he’d need to extract any and all intel he could. As the Lord of the territory spanning most of Minnesota, he was located closer to the Queen’s region than most of his kind. Any plans she had of coming down from the north, his territory was first line of defense.

Yet despite the urgency of this evening’s mission, Kain couldn’t stop glancing at the human girl as she ate her greasy meal, her eyes closing while she chewed as if she hadn’t had proper food in a while. She looked exhausted.

It wasn’t until she brushed a hand across her face in a gesture emphasizing the tired draw of her mouth, displacing her bangs in the process, that he finally understood.

Kain stiffened at the silvery shimmer emanating from her forehead, all thoughts of the Queen and her scheming minions dissipating.

The woman shook her head, making the bangs fall into her eyes again, but he’d already seen it—the mark.

He inhaled deeply in her direction, testing the air, and found what a thick layer of deodorant and the contamination of the other patrons had kept hidden until then: the scent of an awakened Breeder.

Kain hissed softly and leaned back, eyes doing another sweep of the bar, but she was definitely there alone—unescorted.

A runaway.

His cock strained painfully against his tight jeans, alert after scenting the ripe female, and he silently cursed his body’s reaction. Damned little thing didn’t have to do anything but sit there for his hormones to attempt mutiny of his normally perfect self-control.

The fact that she was obviously scared didn’t help—the undercurrent of decaying fear in her scent had his body in a state of arousal even before he realized what she was: a Breeder in need of a protector.

What the fuck was she doing in his territory? None of the surrounding areas had reported any new Breeders escaping. In fact, no one had claimed a Breeder in his or the surrounding areas for a few years now, and no woman who’d spent enough time with them would be stupid enough to try to run.

Fuck’s sake.

The smart thing to do would be to cancel the evening’s scouting mission, grab her when she left the bar, and bring her back to whoever had claimed her. It was his duty, and the little fool wouldn’t be safe on her own—especially not here, now, given the recent sightings of female demons.

The Breeder stirred, perhaps aware of his intense scrutiny, and suddenly her chocolate brown eyes flicked up, locking on him.

She stared at him, eyes widening as if she could sense his demonic nature despite the mark blinding her.

Kain held her gaze. It was too late to pretend he hadn’t been looking at her, and he was curious what she would do.

Her chest heaved with every shallow breath she drew, eyes darting from him to the exit.

When she grabbed her bag, tossed money on the table, and nearly ran for the door, he didn’t follow.

Every instinct in his body raged for him to take up chase—to take her, protect her—keep her safe, warm, fed. Fucked. But the way the poor thing had been acting, it was painfully obvious she didn’t want anything to do with his kind, and if he followed her, he’d have to capture her. Bring her back to whoever she’d escaped from.

Fighting back the overwhelming urge to give chase, Kain grunted with agitation and gripped the edge of the table until her lingering scent was too faint to reach his nostrils. He had no desire to force a girl into a lifetime of rapes, and as far as he was concerned, the fact that she’d fled meant that whoever had kept her had missed his chance at convincing her to stay as his mate.

Bringing her back against her will... He huffed in disgust before taking a deep swig of his whiskey, clearing his palate of the remaining taste of her. No, he had better things to spend his night on.

Like capturing the vile demon bitches who thought they could prowl his territory for easy pickings.

Kain’s agitation grew exponentially as he paced along the boardwalk, waiting for his underlings to arrive for the mission. They weren’t late—the arranged meeting time was not for another half-hour—but he’d been unable to focus inside the bar, his thoughts continually circling back to the little Breeder he’d scared off.

He’d thought some fresh air and patrolling might have cleared his mind, but as he stalked the pavement, the faint impression of her scent lingering in the air from where she must have passed more than an hour ago kept invading his nostrils. No demon would have noticed, not even a Lord like him, if not for his previous exposure, and he had to inhale deeply to taste her at the back of his tongue.

Irritated with himself, he stopped the full breaths he’d greedily been sucking in through his nose. Damned pheromones.

His body was tight with defensive reflexes ready to kick in at the slightest sound, and he knew it was because of the unmistakable touch of fear she’d left behind, as well as the terrified way she’d stared at him before fleeing the bar. That he was responsible for that fear didn’t seem to affect his idiotic instincts roaring for him to protect her, and he groaned when something deep in his gut tugged insistently in an attempt to make him follow her trail.

Maybe he should, just to make sure she at least got out of his area safely. After that, she’d be someone else’s problem.

Of course, that someone would probably bring her back to her mate, or keep her and fuck the living daylights out of her. But at least in the case of the former, she would be safe and off the streets.

His body had started moving down the boardwalk before he even realized it, gait smooth and fast as he tracked her delicate scent.

Yes, he would find her and bring her safely to the border of his territory, ensuring that no other male got his claws in her soft body...

The excited burn in his blood made him grit his teeth as he fought against the other instincts suddenly flooding up from the primal parts of his brain. He was hunting a Breeder, stalking her scent while she fled from him—he’d need to keep his head in the game or the girl would be out of luck, despite his best intentions.

He hadn’t walked far when traces of blood on the pavement caught his attention, his entire form stiffening at the odor that wafted up against him.

Her blood.

Mixed with…

Fury tinged his vision red as his instincts kicked into highest gear, overriding his self-control.

Female demons.

2

Selma

He was one of them.

Selma hadn’t needed her second sight to know—he was simply too big, and something about his looming form seemed off, as if too much mass had been pressed into the shape of a man. And his eyes...

She shuddered, forcing her legs to move quicker as she made her way across the walkway, cursing her decision not to park right by the bar. The sooner she got away from this place, the better, and having to run half a mile to get to her car wasn’t helpful.

The theory had been that if the demons who hunted her managed to track the license plate on the hunk of junk she’d bought from a shady car dealer, and they found it while she was sorting out her pit stop, they wouldn’t be able to find her just from which shop she’d parked in front of. Of course, in practice, the plan had a rather obvious flaw.

Gently she touched a hand to the silver mark marring her forehead, shuddering at the memory of the monster who’d blinded her. She’d always thought her ability to see demons for what they were was her curse. But now…

Now that she was blind to their true forms, she wished she could see them again. Running from monsters you couldn’t see? Not easy. Only her constant vigilance, the continued moving from town to town, had kept her safe.

Until now.

At least this demon was so obvious even a regular person would be wary around him. His handsome face wasn’t enough to hide the overly bulging muscles, nor the nearly palpable dark energy flickering off him like a looming thunderstorm.

Selma cast a quick glance over her shoulder to see if he’d followed, and drew a sigh of relief at the nearly empty stretch behind her. For whatever reason, Hulking Brute hadn’t taken up chase.

But her deep breath of relief was cut short when something caught her ankle and she tripped, landing face-first on the pavement with a shriek and scraping her hands and knees in the process.

Pain shot from her cheek, knees, and palms, and she tasted blood from where she’d bit her tongue when she fell. Just great. Falling over her own feet while trying to escape a demon was not exactly a winning moment.

“Are you okay, sugar?”

Startled, she looked up from the pavement at two young women, one of whom was bent over her splayed-out form. She hadn’t noticed them before she fell.

“Y-Yeah, thanks.” She scrambled to get up, only for the women to hoist her by her elbows.

“You don’t look so good,” the woman still holding onto her stated. “Why don’t you come with us and we’ll get you sorted out, hmm?”

Something in her eyes was off. The coldness there sent shivers of recognition down Selma’s spine, and she pulled back in an attempt at getting free. “No, thanks, really—I’m fine.”

The woman’s grip didn’t loosen, and when an unseen third person placed a hand on her shoulder, panic started bubbling in her veins, making her chest heavy with icy realization. In her desperate escape, she’d nearly forgotten that not everyone she needed to fear was male.

“Let me go!”

“Or you’ll do what? Scream?” The redheaded woman who had yet to touch her pulled a blade from her sleeve, pressing it against Selma’s stomach through her sweatshirt. “Breeders. Come now, or die on the street. Your choice.”

“Please.” Selma gasped as the woman pressed the knife closer, but she let her assailants drag her down a narrow passageway as all her thoughts turned immediately and sharply to the one singular goal: survival.

“Please, I don’t want to be a… a Breeder.” She nearly spat the word. “You don’t have to do this—I ran away from them. Please, just let me go—oh!”

Her pleas were cut short when she was shoved roughly through an open door and into what looked like a half-empty warehouse with sawdust on the concrete floor. She stumbled and nearly fell, but managed to catch herself on a wooden box.

Heart hammering in her throat, she turned around, swallowing thickly as the door closed. She was now alone in the half-lit room with what had to be three female demons. The still-drawn blade in the red-haired one’s hand shimmered ominously.

She’d been warned. The demon who had captured and branded her had told her about the females of his kind—about the war between them and the males, and how the males had turned to human Breeders to procreate. He’d told her this with reverence, as if Selma would be proud she was one of the few humans who could carry a demon’s spawn. As if needing his protection against the females dead-set on killing any Breeder they came across was a boon.

“God, please don’t kill me, please! I’ll do anything you want,” Selma begged. She hadn’t come this far, hadn’t escaped one monster only to be gutted like a pig in a warehouse in Nowhere, Minnesota.

“Yes. Yes, you will.” The one with the cold eyes stalked in a semi-circle around her, forcing her to twist in an attempt at keeping an eye on all three. “But first, little human… First, we want information. Who’s your master?”

“I don’t have a m-master.” Under any other circumstances she probably would have been offended at the notion, but at that moment, her terror was too strong to allow for luxuries such as indignance.

“That pretty little mark on your forehead says otherwise.” The blonde one—the one who’d come up behind her when she fell—took a few steps closer, and Selma drew up against the box again, pressing her back into it. It felt oddly good and solid—normal—in a world of nightmares made flesh.

“I ran away before anyone claimed me.”

“Oh, really now? And how’d you manage that?”

Cold Eyes fell in from the side, trapping Selma against the box. Panicked tears blurred her sight, and she blinked rapidly to clear her vision. If she wanted any chance at getting out of this alive, she’d have to keep her wits about her. Whatever they wanted, she’d give them. She had zero allegiance to any male demons.

“I… I tricked him. Dr. Hershey—Marathin Hershey. The demon who captured me. I made him think I…”

Saying it out loud was harder than she’d expected, and humiliation burned her cheeks. What she’d been made to do in her captivity… it would haunt her for the rest of her life. Which might not be all that long, judging from the hard looks on these females.

Selma steeled herself, pushing through. “I made him think I wanted him. He said he’d spare me from… from the Lords if I…”

“The Lords?” Blondie cut her off, eyes widening, then narrowing to slits.

Selma nodded. “Y-Yes.”

“She’s Blessed,” Red spat. “Let’s just gut her and move on. Too much trouble.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Cold Eyes snarled. “She’s a fucking Pure Breeder! Do you know what a Lord will do to get his hands on one of these? We play our cards right, the one ruling this territory might even give up Minnesota without a fight.”

“Might being the operative word,” Red said, edging closer. “It’s too risky.”

“I’ll help you!” Selma gasped, pressing up harder against the box. “Please, I promise!”

“You think we’ll be rewarded for handing a Lord an incubator?” Blondie asked, eyebrows raised as she looked at Cold Eyes.

“I think taking this territory is our first priority. It’ll be years before any offspring he sires with this pathetic human is strong enough to fight—and at that point, it’s going to be too late anyway.”

Cold Eyes returned her focus to Selma, a nasty smile pulling up the corner of her lips. “But first… first we need to ensure she’s in suitable condition. What do you say, little Breeder? Think a few cuts on that smooth skin of yours will make the Lord more amenable to our negotiations?”

3

Selma

Selma screamed. Each time that wicked knife sliced through her flesh, claws raked her skin, and fists pummeled her gut, she howled in agony, pleas for mercy bubbling past her lips. She tried to curl in on herself, to protect her vitals, but the two demonesses not wielding the knife held her firmly between them, leaving her body open and vulnerable to the abuse.

They offered no mercy, each second only bringing her more pain. She lost track of time, lost track of everything but the searing agony and cackles of her captors, their amusement at her wails ringing through the warehouse—though to her, they sounded like they were filtered through water. The only clear sound was her own frantic heartbeat.

Until an explosion shook the building.

The three demons froze, turning toward the entrance as one. Selma too lifted her head, following their startled gazes.

He was here—the demon from the bar. His dark eyes were wide and terrifying, his human features pulling into a mask of fury as he took in the scene, breathing heavily.

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.

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