Darkyn's Mate (#3 Rhyn Eternal) Read online

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  Darkyn’s Mate

  #3, Rhyn Eternal

  By Lizzy Ford

  http://www.GuerrillaWordfare.com/

  Cover design by PhatPuppy Creations

  http://www.PhatPuppyArt.com/

  Smashwords EDITION

  Darkyn’s Mate copyright ©2013 by Lizzy Ford

  http://www.GuerrillaWordfare.com/

  Cover design copyright © 2013 by PhatPuppy Creations

  http://www.PhatPuppyArt.com/

  Typography Copyright © by Regina, Mae I Design

  http://www.MaeIDesign.com/

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events; to real people, living or dead; or to real locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.

  Prologue

  From “Gabriel’s Hope”

  Suddenly, Past-Death’s words about how Deidre became Gabriel’s mate clicked. Would the reverse also work? If Past-Death was dead again, was Deidre next in line to be Gabriel’s mate?

  Deidre faced the door, mind working quickly.

  “Wait!” she called. “Your soul. If you can’t do what I did in a week, I get your soul.”

  “Fuck off, human.”

  “Who’s the coward now?” Deidre demanded. “You’re incapable of loving him the way he deserves, and you know it.”

  Past-Death froze at the door. Her face was red, her eyes glittering. “You will wager your soul as well?”

  “Yep,” Deidre said. “Deal?” She held out her hand and drew near. “One week. Your soul and mine on the table.”

  Past-Death shook her hand. Cold energy shot through Deidre, and she flinched. The door opened, and they both looked towards it.

  “Which one of you is mine?” Darkyn’s growl made her blood run cold.

  “As I promised. My payment for your services.” Past-Death snatched Deidre’s arm and yanked her to the side for him to see the tattoo.

  The demon lord smiled. Past-Death pushed Deidre towards him.

  Deidre dug in her heels before she reached him. The heat of her anger vanished, replaced by fear.

  “Deal settled,” Darkyn said, stepping aside. “With regards to our arrangement about reviving you…”

  “We’ll talk later,” Past-Death said and brushed by him.

  Darkyn watched her go. Deidre saw the look on his face, the same one Past-Death gave her when admiring the product she created. His attention returned to Deidre. His fangs were lengthening. She backed away, unable to fathom the idea of being trapped with him in Hell for eternity.

  “Rules,” he reminded her and entered the chamber. He closed the door behind him.

  “No running. No fighting.”

  You must obey him, no matter how much you do not wish to. Your life is not the only one dependent upon this.

  She stopped in place as Fate’s words returned her. Unable to quell the panic flying through her, she wasn’t willing to test the waters to discover if demons were restricted from harming their mates like Immortals. In a week, when Past-Death lost her end of the bet, Deidre would be free.

  She just had to survive.

  Deidre closed her eyes as Darkyn’s arm snaked out to grab her neck. He dragged her against him. Breathing ragged, she tilted her head in submission.

  One week.

  “Welcome to your new home, love,” the Dark One said a moment before his teeth sank into her neck.

  For Gabriel.

  Day One

  Chapter One

  In Hell, human-Deidre sat next to the hearth hours after she made the deal with the goddess who stranded her. She hadn’t seen her new mate, Darkyn – the Dark One – since he drank his fill of her hours before and left. Her lightheadedness was gone and she was grateful his bloodsucking was pain free. Not by his choice, which was clear. If she hadn’t bartered for a painless existence, she’d be trying to kill herself to get away from him.

  If, for some reason, she was stuck here forever, at least he wasn’t going to hurt her, as long as she followed his rules.

  No running. No fighting.

  Either of them was too much of a turn on to a demon that reveled in causing pain. The idea made her panic. How long would it take Gabriel to find her and rescue her?

  Would he be able to, if he thought the goddess Past-Death was his mate?

  Her stomach growled. A look around her bedchamber with its black, stone walls, ceiling and floor revealed nothing remotely edible. The large bed was set in a similar stone bed frame and covered with dark coverings. The room was allegedly the most comfortable Hell had to offer. She wasn’t able to tell what time it was in Hell. There were no clocks and she had no cell phone. Her room was made of black stone and quiet with no sounds except the crackle of fire.

  It wasn’t bad. She had no intention of spending eternity there, though.

  She stood, hungry. Made of material softer than silk, the black dress she wore pooled at the top of her feet. Her back was bare to display the name of Darkyn amid the Immortals’ geometric writing that marked her as an Immortal mate.

  She put her hair down to hide the mark, horrified by the idea of belonging to the devil.

  Deidre’s hand went to her neck, where Darkyn had placed a slender collar. If his name scrawled across her shoulders didn’t mark her as his, the collar did. She didn’t think any demon in Hell was going to mess with the Dark One’s mate. At least, she hoped not.

  She stood in front of the door nervously for a long moment, not certain it would open.

  It did.

  There were no longer demon guards outside her door, maybe because Darkyn knew she couldn’t leave. If her bond to him was like hers to Gabriel, he’d be able to find her no matter what.

  She couldn’t think about such things without wanting to break down and weep. First things first: she needed food to survive. Bracing herself, she stepped into the hallway. No one attacked her or told her to stop. She also had no idea where to go.

  Deidre closed the door behind her and walked down the hallway. The dress moved with her like a second skin, draping her curves and swishing silently around her legs. She rubbed her mouth. It was dry and her gums irritated. She could use some water, too.

  She walked for ten minutes, carefully remembering where she went, so she was able to find her way back. The first demons that crossed her path made her freeze in place. They didn’t notice her, and she released her breath.

  Deidre continued through the halls lined with torches bearing black flames. She reached a stairwell and descended to a floor with wider, taller corridors, as if she’d gone from the wing with private chambers to a more public area. There were more demons on this level, a couple of which eyed her before moving on, leaving her a bit more confident she wasn’t going to be eaten. The stone doors lining each side were all closed.

  One of them yawned opened as her eyes fell to it.

  With an anxious look around to make sure no one was watching, Deidre peeked into the open door, hoping it led to a McDonalds or some other place with food. What she saw puzzled her.

  Hell had a library?

  At the far end of the library was a creature that made her think twice about entering. White-gray fur covered a body with moth-eaten wings,
a hideous face and yellowed fangs. It was hunched over a book large enough to cover half the black stone desk at which it sat. As she watched, the creature rose and hobbled from the desk to a nearby shelf. It wheezed, its body bent by time. The small book it hefted made its stooped posture almost double over. He staggered.

  She had the sudden urge to assist him. Whatever creature it was, it had to be ancient. She hesitated then crossed the library.

  “Do you want help?” she ventured timidly.

  The ugly face turned towards her, and she slowed.

  “What are you?” it asked in a voice as old as its leathery face.

  Uncertain how to explain things, she turned and swept her pink-dyed hair from her back to show him the mating mark.

  “Ah.” It said then concentrated on holding onto the book.

  Deidre reached him just as he dropped it. The tome was far heavier than she expected, made of something much different than cardboard and paper. The two of them toppled to the floor with the book.

  “It only looks small,” the creature said, peering at her. “The Dark One’s never had a mate.”

  “Ever?” she asked. She stood and bent. The book was the size of a paperback she’d buy at an airport but had to weigh fifty pounds. With a grunt, Deidre lifted it and carried it to the table. She returned to the creature, which was climbing to its feet with difficulty. She took its arm and helped him up.

  “Ever,” it answered with a wheeze. “But … there has only been one other Dark One before Darkyn.” Its breathing was labored, and it sighed when they reached its chair. “Was the oldest … deity remaining. Very powerful. Don’t know …how Darkyn did it.”

  “Maybe he made a better deal,” she suggested. “That is what he does, isn’t it? Makes people horrible deals that screw them over for eternity?”

  “This is true. Darkyn is smart. He doesn’t make …mistakes.”

  She shivered, not wanting to imagine what Darkyn was capable of or how hard it might be to outmaneuver him to leave Hell. As ugly as the aged creature before her was, there was something about him that left her feeling safe for the first time since arriving to Hell.

  “Do you have a name?” she asked.

  “Do you?” It looked irritated at her question. “Of course demons have names.”

  “Sorry,” she murmured. “I’m Deidre.”

  “A human mate and so soon after he’s taken command.” The ancient demon shook his head in disapproval. “You can call me Zamon. My real name is too hard for you to say.”

  “Nice to meet you, Zamon.”

  “There was a time … young girls ran when they saw me,” he sounded annoyed then sighed. “That time is gone.”

  “If it helps, I’m scared.” Deidre rubbed her upper lip again. Her gums were irritated, reminding her she hadn’t eaten or drunk water in a while. “Do you want me to run away so you feel better?”

  “No.” Zamon growled. He pushed the small book around then opened it.

  “What kind of library is this?” she asked with a glance around.

  “I keep our histories, record bloodlines, manage the deals that come in. I will record you now,” Zamon said.

  She watched him turn a page and touch it. Strange writing appeared.

  “You are recorded,” he stated, reading the words. “The Oracle says you made your first deal as his mate. You learn fast.” He nodded in approval. “Your deal holds the power of the Dark One to enforce the debt, since you are his.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” she said. Her first deal was made more out of emotion than anything else. She’d challenged Gabriel’s new mate to win him over in one week, or one of them lost their souls.

  During the quiet time she’d had since then, Deidre began to think she’d made a bad bet. Gabriel and Past-Death had a relationship that spanned thousands of years. He’d chosen to stay with her that long, and she’d broken Immortal laws to take her place as his mate. Gabriel’s intense hatred was born of intense love and pain, and he’d clearly never made up his mind about her in the time they were together.

  In a week, Deidre would be dead or back with Gabriel. At least, this was what she hoped when she made the deal.

  “It is dangerous. You should not make deals, until you learn how,” Zamon said sternly. “A bad deal by a deity or its mate will ruin the universe.”

  “Okay,” she said, startled by his calm statement. “I’ll be careful. How do I learn?”

  “Darkyn.”

  She frowned. Since he was the one she wanted to learn to outsmart, in case things broke bad, she doubted he’d teach her anything. Another thought crossed her mind as she stood in Hell’s library.

  “Can you … teach me things about the Immortals?” she asked. “I don’t know anything about this place. I was a normal human two weeks ago.”

  “Maybe.”

  Her gaze returned to him. He was concentrating on turning pages and recording things she was unable to read.

  “If Darkyn agrees,” Zamon added. “The Dark One likes to control those close to him.”

  “You mean there’s more than me?” she asked.

  “His daughter.”

  “Seriously?” she exclaimed in disbelief. “That … he’s a father?”

  “Yes. She was hurt by an Immortal and is in a coma of sorts.”

  Deidre stopped herself from pursuing. There was no way she was going to learn more. She had no intention of staying here. Worse, she wasn’t about to give the creature that tricked her into Hell and turned her Immortal an ounce of compassion.

  Her stomach growled again.

  “I was looking for somewhere I could get food,” she said, reminded of her initial reason for wandering out of her room.

  “Human food?”

  “Um, yes.”

  “You will not want to go where the other human blood monkeys are. Darkyn would not approve. You will have to ask him.”

  Deidre sighed. In a place that operated on rigged deals where demons didn’t seem to lose, she was certain anything she asked Darkyn for was going to cost her. That he’d beat out the original Dark One in a deal did not bode well for her.

  She was trying hard to keep her fear away so she could figure out this new world. First the unfriendly Immortal society, now this nightmare. She’d promised herself she wasn’t going to cry today. Half an hour after leaving her room, she was ready to break down.

  “I’m going to lay down,” she said.

  “If you ask him, and he agrees, you can come back,” Zamon said. “I will make time for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Zamon nodded once, attention on the book. Deidre retreated into the hallway and started back towards the stairs. There was no way a creature like Darkyn, who valued control over everything, was going to let her talk to Zamon. Or eat. Or anything else.

  Her eyes grew misty, and she rubbed them to keep tears from coming.

  A door along the hallway ahead of her opened, startling her. Several demons exited, and the stone door closed silently. She ceased walking to wait for them to move down the hallway.

  One caught sight of her and stopped. Unlike the others whose paths she’d crossed earlier, he didn’t ignore her. This one nudged the demon beside him. Within seconds, all four of them were watching her like lions a wounded gazelle.

  Darkyn warned her about running. Demons loved a challenge and a fight. She held her breath and stayed still, praying their interest was passing, and they’d move on.

  They didn’t. One smiled coldly, revealing its sharpened teeth, while another was the first to take a step towards her. Deidre clenched her fists as the four surrounded her in the middle of the hallway.

  “Darkyn’s blood monkey,” one demon said, eyes on the band around her neck.

  She hadn’t thought to put her hair up; it blocked the name of her mate on her back. Or maybe they didn’t care. Maybe he didn’t care what happened to his mate.

  “You know she’ll taste good,” another agreed. “He takes the best ones.”


  “He shouldn’t let you off the blood monkey floor.”

  “Human?”

  She nodded, heart racing. All four growled, hunger in their eyes.

  “We’ll give you a head start,” the one in front of her said. He stepped out of her path. “I’ll count to three.”

  Deidre shook her head.

  “I’ll count to five?”

  “No,” she replied. “He won’t want you touching me.” I hope.

  Two of them laughed.

  “You must be new.”

  “As long as we leave some for him. Blood monkeys are afforded no protections here, and he always shares with us. Whatever deal you lost, you’ll suffer demon mercy for as long as we keep you alive.”

  Demon mercy. She had a feeling it was a horrible inside joke.

  “I’ll count to ten.”

  “I’m not running,” she managed.

  “Very well. This is less fun, but we still get to eat.” The demon on one side snatched her arm and dragged her to him. His canines lengthened. She shoved at him unsuccessfully. He grinned at the attempt and grabbed her hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck.

  Suddenly, he looked up, an uneasy expression crossing his features. Unable to see what he saw, Deidre prayed it was Darkyn, and the demon lord wasn’t going to join them in passing her around for dinner. The sound of bodies hitting the stone floor behind her preceded Darkyn grabbing her by a few seconds. Deidre was yanked away from the demon holding her then released. Something jarred her, a flash of magic, one that made her more nauseous than what she saw happen next.

  Darkyn snatched the demon that intended to make her its dinner. Deidre covered her face as the demon lord tore out the demon’s throat with the same fangs that drank from her. Warm blood sprayed her. He gripped her arm, spun her until her back was to the remaining demon and pushed aside her hair.