Sabine exhaled, trying to keep a rein on her notorious temper. "Yes, but I have unique attributes that make this demon's seduction in the bag."
"You also have a detriment," Hettiah sneered. "You're a freak among the Lore."
It was true she was unique-a virgin seductress. Sabine chuckled at Hettiah's statement, then her expression instantly turned cold when she faced her brother. "Omort, put a muzzle on your pet, or I'll make her one from her intestines." She rapped her silver-tipped claws together, and the sound rang out in the chamber.
Hettiah lifted her chin, but she'd paled. Sabine had in fact plucked an organ from her. On several occasions. She kept them in jars on her bedside table.
But Sabine refrained from this as much as possible, because whenever she fought Hettiah, it seemed to overly excite Omort.
"Besides, if the demon somehow resists this"-Sabine waved her hands over her figure-"I'll have a backup plan." She always had a plan B.
"You'll need it." Hettiah smirked.
Sabine blew her a kiss, the ultimate insult among the Sorceri, who stored poisons in their rings to be mixed into drinks-or blown into the eyes of an enemy.
"Capture him tonight, and then . . . begin." Omort sounded sickened. Not only was Rydstrom a demon, which most Sorceri viewed as little better than an animal, the fallen king was Omort's blood enemy.
And the time had finally come for Sabine to surrender her virginal-hymenally speaking-body and her womb to the creature. No wonder Omort had gone into a fury with the oracle.
Part of him lusted for the power Sabine could garner. And part of him lusted for her-or for women who resembled her, like the red-haired Hettiah.
He rose then, descending the steps to stand before Sabine. Ignoring Hettiah's huff of dismay-and the warning in Sabine's eyes-he slowly raised his hand to