Captured Ch. 04

Plyon stubbornly shook his head, feeling quite relieved for Thoran's interruption. Though only a witness, his mere presence would have implicated him in a punishable betrayal. "The laws are clear. It does not matter what species a demon chooses."

"Why are you so averse to my binding her, Scarn?" Thoran said curtly. "It will make little difference to our ways. Whatever the council determines, I am entitled to the mate of my choosing."

"And I want him." Sirah surprised them all as she unexpectedly joined the fray.

Thoran was particularly taken aback by the resolute tone in her soft, tantalising voice as she challenged one of the most feared demons of their race. Who would have thought a traumatic encounter with his brothers would have her accept him?

"It wouldn't matter if you didn't!" Scarn sneered, infuriated that the delectable creature dared openly spurn him for Thoran. "And it will not matter if the council decides that I am a better mate for you-!"

Scarn extended his hand, but Thoran laid his own upon Sirah's shoulder and drew her back into his protective energy before Scarn's lure could envelope her. Though Thoran's movements were controlled, he was profoundly angry, and a black smoke much like Devil's Mist shot toward Scarn's face. Scarn dodged, skill keeping his hand out to Sirah, who, although alleviated by Thoran's touch, suffered unsettling vibrations from the lure.

Thoran stepped in front of Sirah to face Scarn, and the two demons snarled at each other, braced to fight.

"Cease!" Plyon bellowed, stepping between them.

Scarn looked Plyon in the eye. "The day will come when you regret this foolish loyalty. When you will rue having scorned an opportunity that will never come again."

"You would end the codes that safeguard and strengthen our existence?" Plyon accused angrily. "You would destroy it all, and create anarchy among us?"

"Just look at her, fool!" Scarn hissed, shuddering with the urge to send another lure Sirah's way, but she was now blocked from him, by both Plyon and Thoran.

Black, seething hate clouded Scarn's mind. "Do you think as the years go by, the power of her lure will lessen?" he snarled. "Do you think after a hundred years, or as little as ten, she will cause no upheaval among us?"

The painful image of watching Sirah from afar lit an unfamiliar fire within Scarn. That Thoran, of all demons, would have the privilege of kissing Sirah's sweet, innocent mouth and using her soft, virginal body to satisfaction whenever he pleased, seemed an unendurable offence.

Scarn imagined the exiled demon claiming Sirah, thrusting against her, their mouths hungrily merging. Whilst at that very moment Scarn could still feel Sirah's unusual magnetism, clawing under his skin as though she called to him alone. He was a feared warrior, more worthy of her than Thoran. At this last thought, something inside Scarn snapped.

"Do you think anarchy will not follow from a creature all demons desire?" he screamed in a rare rage, wishing he could tear off the heads of his brothers and steal off with the nymph.

Plyon and Vertar exchanged an uncertain glance. If a demon bound an invaluable mate, that was one thing. But there had never existed one that attracted all demons with a compelling lure. Lures were weapons only malevolent creatures possessed to entrap, control or torture.

If other demons were half as affected as Scarn, there would certainly be war. Looking to the girl, Plyon imagined watching her over the years, tantalised and tempted by her bewitching aura. He would certainly not visit Thoran often.

Despite Scarn's argument, Plyon had faith in the basic code of his kind. He enjoyed a simple life and would rather maintain it than break the laws by crossing a brother he respected.

"Take the matter to council," Plyon growled.

Vertar tentatively nodded agreement. Thoran merely raised a smug eyebrow, though his black eyes sparked with loathing.

"You worthless crusts of dirt!" Scarn roared.

Sirah cried out and turned her face to Thoran's wide chest, his thick arms encircled her protectively. The demons stood otherwise unmoved as Scarn was engulfed in a circle of black and red flame. The thick smoke rapidly snaked from their presence to the cavern exit.

"Always one for display," Thoran remarked, his eyes still glowing with ferocity.

"Aye. We must go," Plyon muttered. "I have never seen Scarn beset. Not even in war."

Still simmering with anger, Thoran didn't comment. Though grateful his brothers' took his side, they also stood idle while Scarn attempted to bind Sirah in his very own abode. There were only two demons who might have intervened on his behalf, but he had laid eyes on neither for decades.

Plyon hesitated. "If you wish to have Scarn before the Council for trespass-"

"I may count on your testimony?" Thoran sweetly finished.

Plyon and Vertar nodded. Vertar's eyes were fixed on Sirah's small, tremoring wings.

"I thank you," Thoran said curtly. "But to proceed that path will inevitably draw my mate into the proceedings, being the core of the matter. I wish to avoid her exposure."

"Wise, Thoran. You always were," Plyon grinned, his ice-blue eyes flickered Sirah's direction. "You should bind her, and quickly."

The blood-brothers turned from Sirah and Thoran, and quickly vanished toward the exit.

Thoran glanced down to where Sirah still pressed her cheek to his chest. He indulgently tucked a silken gold strand behind her soft ear.

"So, you choose me, little one?" he teased, making light of the intense circumstances as his eyes scoured her for injuries. "They did not hurt you?"

"Only a little," Sirah sighed, preferring to answer the latter question as Thoran's large hands touched and stroked over her body, igniting a natural chemistry she found difficult to resist.

"And you want me?" he asked, half-believing he misheard her adamant declaration.

Sirah bit her lip, tracing the firm contours of his smooth chest with the tip of one finger, feeling the familiar enticement she craved since his absence. It was only now that he was with her, she realised how much she wanted him. Though pleasant, it was also humiliating after being so determined to resist him.

Thoran gently tilted her chin to look up at him. His face was beautifully masculine, and his passionate gaze created a strange urgency that made Sirah's heart race. The demon was huge, muscled, and nothing like any nymph she might have imagined wedding.

"And you want me?" he persisted, his dark gaze boring into hers.

"Y-Yes," Sirah blushed, and shamefully lowered her head.

"Look at me," Thoran demanded, the intensity on his face softened when she reluctantly complied. "Are you ready to be mine, Sirah?"

The simple question held no threat, menace or imperious order. It held nothing less than pure enticement.

Sirah gazed at his handsome face, marvelling that her terrorising captor was now welcome in her presence, so much that she wanted to belong to him. After such misery for being taken from her home, she was now grateful for it. Realising he awaited an answer, she held her breath and slowly nodded.

"Do not be afraid," he murmured.

With the purple stone still in his hand, Thoran pressed closer. He bent to gather her into his arms so their foreheads could meet.

Ribbons of nervous excitement coiled within Sirah's stomach. She closed her eyes, aware Thoran continued to stare at her face. His deep voice melodiously echoed about her ears, not forcefully arrogant like Scarn's speech, but calmly determined.

"I bind you to me, Sirah."

Sirah immediately felt an invisible link coil about her legs and journey up her waist. It was flexible, sinuous, and less stilted than the coarse one Scarn summoned. It moved gently across her body, creating thrills rather than panic.

"I pledge to be your mate. I pledge to be yours, as you will be mine. You will be shielded from harm by my nation of brothers. As your accepted master, I am beholden to you. I will honour you as my mate, and will never act to endanger you, or your kin. I will forfeit my own life before harm comes to you."

I bind you to me, Sirah.

An unseen, silken collar gently caressed her body, rising to clasp about Sirah's throat in a perfect fit as Thoran's charming voice entered her mind for the first time. The welcome, unusual sensation made her gasp. Her eyes flew open to meet Thoran's smouldering stare.

I bind you to me.

Panting, Sirah gripped the sides of Thoran's large arms for support as fresh, unfamiliar energy flowed through her. Though Thoran appeared unmoved, Sirah knew it affected him too. She felt it pulsing between them, as though their very essence merged into one.

I bind you to me. Accept.

"T-Thoran?" Sirah said unsteadily, almost jerking her head back with fear, but Thoran tightened his hold so they remained connected.

Answer me. Accept.

"I accept!" Sirah whimpered pleadingly, frightened by the channelling energy.

The edges of Thoran's lips curved in a triumphant smile.

Speak to me, Sirah. Accept.

Suddenly Sirah understood his demand. Her brow furrowed against his as she strained to comply.

I accept.

Sirah's offering was so faint, Thoran barely registered it.

Again, little one.

I accept.

Good. More.

I accept you as my Master.

Good, little one.

They both jumped, fiercely clutching each other as the energy convulsing through them peaked, and slowly dissipated.

"Oh..." Sirah moaned, and was quickly lifted before she fell. "Is it over?"

"Yes."

"Thoran?"

"Yes?"

"Your pledge was...different," she said dizzily, unsure exactly what she was asking.

Sirah knew nothing of demon bindings, but she was surprised he included her family in his promise, and that he would place her welfare wholly above his own. Then again, all nymphs knew was to avoid demons at all costs. Little was known about the particulars of their race, or none lived to tell if they did.

"From Scarn's?" Thoran said distastefully, the glowing warmth ebbed from his face. "Our oaths are of a similar vein, but individual to the demon and nature of binding. I imagine Scarn devised his binding oath to serve his own purposes. To bend you to his will."

"And you?"

"I would have bound you by force, I won't deny it. But I want you for a companion, never to enslave you. I am rather fond of you, Sirah."

"But...nature of binding? What other reasons do demons take a mate?"

Thoran sighed. "Many reasons. Rarely for lust, as we do not want for victims. And almost never for love."

Wondering at his answer, Sirah opened her eyes as she was gently placed on her soft bed. Whether for briefly fainting or the speed of Thoran's steps, they'd arrived at the familiar part of his lair that he'd altered to her taste.

"And now?" she shyly ventured, avoiding from his shrewd stare.

"And now, we are one. Or did the binding fail?" Thoran smiled, knowing full well it was complete. A new addition of energy continued to surge through him. And he could sense Sirah's energy. He felt he could engage, absorb, exchange and manipulate it to his will.

"No, Thoran. I feel it," Sirah meekly confirmed, her eyes downcast as he checked her dainty wings were fully smoothed, before laying her back. "But...I..." Sirah forced herself to continue, blushing with embarrassment as Thoran's eyes intently rested on her. "Now that I am yours..."

Thoran laughed and caressed her cheek. "And I am yours. We belong to each other. Now, rest. I must keep my promise to your father."

"But..." Sirah wistfully protested, even as her eyelids became incredibly heavy.

"Sh." Thoran's fingers slightly trembled as he stroked sleek, light-blonde hair from her brow. "I know what you desire. It will come."

Thoran indulgently watched his mate succumb to exhaustion. His eyes slightly hardened, knowing his brothers cruelly toyed with her. At least they were not foolish enough to hurt her. Scarn certainly knew better than to harm Sirah.

Thoran's lip curled with anger as he remembered the other demon's vindictive audacity in the binding attempt, and knew the matter with Scarn was far from resolved. In Scarns eyes, there would be a reckoning for his failure to steal Sirah.

*******

A day later, their arrival at Sirah's homeland caused quite a stir. All were curious to behold the fearsome demon who had, without violence, captured their princess and struck an agreement with their proud king.

Awe and confusion greeted Sirah and Thoran as they strode hand-in-hand toward the castle. The petite, lovely princess docilely walked by her mate's side, seemingly unbothered to be united with the rather giant, enthralling male. Some claimed he was no more than an unusually large, attractive human, but retracted their assessment after managing a closer look at Thoran's lightly reddish skin tone and catching the flash of black fire in his eyes. Though Thoran kept his lure in check, many female nymphs found themselves eagerly tailing the couple for reasons other than curiosity.

Devan was not there to greet them at the border, though the reasons for his marked absence were fairly predictable. A great part of him was still deeply upset about the loss of this daughter, and he could never approve or celebrate it. He was also afraid of what condition he would find Sirah. If he was to mourn her abuse or despondency, it would be privately with few present.

The crowds were left behind, and eventually the great hall doors slowly opened to admit Sirah and Thoran, who let Sirah walk slightly ahead of him.

From his throne Devan watched, seemingly unmoved as Sirah's friends raced toward her. Tears flowed and laughter was abundant as Sirah was swamped by loved ones. Thoran cast his eyes to the tall ceiling with mild scorn as the nymph posse playfully circled Sirah. It was clear they appraised her for injuries by the way they continued to inspect her, then cast furtive glances his direction as though imagining the ways his intimidating size may have been applied to damaging effect.

Thoran slightly raised one eyebrow as Noah found his way to Sirah and planted a big kiss on her cheek. Within minutes, Thoran's mate was almost completely obstructed from view amongst a number of bustling wings, an array of bright colours. It was quite a beautiful display. None were inclined or daring enough to approach Thoran.

Losing sight of Sirah, Thoran realised Devan watched him the entire time. Devan jerked his head, and Thoran immediately followed the hostile king into an adjoining room. It was a large library, with various old relics displayed throughout. Completely closed up from natural light, it was rather gloomy compared to the main hall.

"You kept your promise."

Thoran looked sardonic. "As you knew I would. Why have you not greeted Sirah?"

"She is occupied enough at present."

"Or perhaps you worry how she might receive you, after you forfeited her to me?" Thoran perceptively suggested. "Have more faith in your daughter's wisdom, Devan. She is not blind to the choice forced upon you. Your aloofness hurts her."

"And you know her feelings so intimately?" Devan snarled, feeling helpless. It was true, he was terrified; haunted by the possibility Sirah might return as a brutalised shell of what she was. That she might look upon him accusingly.

"I do. An effect of the binding," Thoran sighed. "And it is best you know now, that she can never visit you without my escort."

Devan's good-looks were marred as he bared his teeth with uncharacteristic aggression. "We had an agreement. Are you so fond of our lands?"

"She is not safe without me."

"You lie. Demon brothers are obliged to respect each other's mates!" Devan snapped angrily, his lip curled with disdain as he readied to debate a matter of custody. Thoran calmly interrupted the budding tirade.

"Do you know what Devil's Mist is?"

"I do."

"Sirah broke through the strongest kind."

Devan swallowed, looking uncomfortable. "And?"

"The ability is known to my brothers. But worse - she is desired. She has a lure, of a kind."

"She was always beautiful."

"No. More precarious, Devan. She has a lure attractive to demons."

"Did you not recognise this, when you first stole her?" Devan sneered.

Thoran paused thoughtfully, remembering his excited chase. "Not immediately. Her beauty caught my eye, so I thought. But after a short time in her company, I was certain in my decision to bind her. That is not a decision I take lightly."

"Enough." Devan waved a hand with contempt. "You know her welfare is my priority. If you must be at her side for her safety, so be it."

Thoran narrowed his eyes. "You knew about her lure. Is the enticement another black spell?"

Devan bitterly shook his head. "No. The lure is natural, and only affects malevolent folk. Humans, nymphs, and the like, are enticed by appearances. But others are attracted in a way that has little to do with beauty. Even out of sight, some might sense her presence. It is the reason she was forbidden to leave our lands, even with escort. She would endanger others as well as herself."

"But you underestimated her wilfulness. Do you know where I journeyed, and why?" Thoran asked slowly, approaching a new topic as Devan's face became masklike.

"What do you wish to say to me, Demon?"

Though Thoran shrugged, his eyes were accusatory. "I am encountering a number of surprises the more time I spend with your daughter," he remarked. "I believe you were always aware of her abilities, and yet she knows so little of herself."

"Yes, I arranged a charm to protect her virtue!" Devan spat as his composure cracked. "Yes, I knew she tempted malevolent species, and I warned you-!"

"You warned without explanation, which I naturally presumed a father's empty bid to save his daughter. I suppose even now, you will not explain how the unworldly, sheltered half-nymph crafted a deadly blade from nothing?"

Devan paled. "She, what?"

"It's no matter," Thoran said pleasantly, tilting his head at Devan's bleak dismay, before lifting his eyes to the tall, tautened tips of the nymph King's brilliant violet wings. "I can handle her."

Thoran strode to the door and paused, turning back when Devan did not move, his eyes fixed to the floor with sad bitterness. Thoran understood what the regal nymph had lost, for his gain. But Thoran had no regrets; he was very grateful.

"Not that you give weight to the words of a Demon, but I will guard Sirah with my life. I am not prone to cruelty. She will only know comfort with me," he said simply, and departed.

Remembering Sirah's protesting screams as he withdrew his protection and abandoned her, Devan bit his lip. It seemed the more he knew of Thoran, the more he was surprised, and Devan was not often surprised. Most shockingly he was aware that Sirah was still a virgin. That Thoran maintained discipline over a lust that Devan knew held a large appetite, was quite inexplicable.

Devan looked up to see Thoran usher Sirah into the room and close the door behind her. For a moment father and daughter tensely watched each other. Emerald eyes bright with emotion, Devan hesitantly held out his arms at the same time Sirah burst into tears and threw herself into them.

*****

Tired from the exhausting, overwhelming experience of seeing her homeland and family again, Sirah was limp in Thoran's arms when they returned to his lair.

Placing her in bed, Thoran observed his desirable mate. His obligations were complete, and now there was only one thing left for him to do. Something he decided to save until last.

Sirah's eyes fluttered open, suddenly alerted by the way Thoran stood watching her.

"W-What is it?" she faltered, running her eyes over his tall figure.