The Demon God's Desire

THE DEMON GOD’S DESIRE CELESTE KING PROTHEKA PUBLISHING Copyright © 2023 by Celeste King 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 written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Sigh up for my newsletter at https://www.subscribepage.com/celesteking Join my Facebook group here! CONTENTS Books in The World of Protheka The World of Protheka 1. Guilri 2. Bridget 3. Guilri 4. Bridget 5. Guilri 6. Bridget 7. Guilri 8. Bridget 9. Guilri 10. Bridget 11. Guilri 12. Bridget 13. Guilri 14. Bridget 15. Guilri 16. Bridget 17. Guilri 18. Bridget 19. Guilri 20. Bridget 21. Guilri 22. Bridget 23. Guilri 24. Bridget 25. Guilri 26. Bridget 27. Guilri 28. Bridget 29. Guilri 30. The Hearthkeeper Preview of Mated to the Dark Elf 31. Amelie 32. Kral Ishiraya 33. Amelie 34. Kral Ishiraya BOOKS IN THE WORLD OF PROTHEKA Orc Warriors of Protheka Series Mates of the Burning Sun Clan Series Dark Elves of Protheka Series Thoruk’s Prize: A Monster Romance Naga’s of Protheka Series Minotaur’s of Protheka Series Demon’s of Protheka Series Vampires of Protheka Gargoyles of Protheka THE WORLD OF PROTHEKA 1 GUILRI The pub is smoky and noisy and my men are boisterous but we’ve earned it after our latest victory over the pathetic humans. We successfully rounded up the worthless scum we found near the mountains who were stupid enough to escape their masters homes. Repossessing them was easy enough and they’re on their way back to their owners now. “We did it!” Vythor yells, holding up his mug of ale in joy. “We took down the whole band of them! Can you believe they tried to lie and say they were free humans?” “Good thing they were dumb enough to try to fight us,” Hiphilo yells, taking a large gulp from his tankard. I shake my head. These men are really enjoying imbibing. I’m not personally one for drunken revelry but soldiers will be soldiers. I find it a bit distasteful to be loud and disorderly. It’s a stain on miou honor. It’s never been my thing to drink and make merry. I’ve been told I’m wound too tightly to relax. I’ve even heard rumors that people think the beads I wear in my hair are there to represent the people I’ve killed. They all fear and respect me but I would never let loose around them in a place like this. They need to be able to see me as their authority figure. However, I’m not entirely without pity. I do know how hard we worked today, how hard my men fought and how much work they’ve been doing over the last few months. Frankly, the men probably need to blow off some steam before they get their next marching orders. They need to be able to kick back and let loose. And who am I to judge? Live and let live, I say. It’s how I was able to rise in the ranks so quickly. I often turned a blind eye to the more unsavory things that my commanders did, trying to cultivate the image that I was one of them. It worked and now that I’m in charge, I don’t have to put up with anyone else’s taurashit. I get to call the moves. Like right now. I’m considering telling off Hiphilo for spilling his ale all over the tavern floor. But I don’t bother because I prefer to eat the large slab of steak in front of me. That’s how I’m going to celebrate. I’m going to enjoy this delicious meal that isn’t rations and then I’m going to go sleep it off upstairs. “Gods, she was so pathetic. Screaming and crying and blubbering like a cheap whore.” I freeze, knife and fork poised over my steak. Did I just hear what I think I heard? “Did you do it?” “Of course I did,” the soldier says with a scoff. “She begged me not to but everyone knows human women are hungry for elf cock.” I feel my blood boiling. That behavior is the only thing I never accepted from my superiors and I won’t accept it from my men either. It’s dishonorable to the name of our caste. It’s disgusting and vile and beneath us as soldiers. My utensils clatter to the plate below and over the din of noise, I hear nothing but the rushing of blood in my ears. I push my chair back, the loud scraping noise echoing off the walls as I stand. The entire pub goes dead silent. I take careful, measured steps around the table, approaching the soldier I overheard. It’s Varhys. One of my weaker men. I stand in front of Varhys, eyes boring into him as he turns towards me meekly, cowering from my glare. “Repeat what you just said,” I order him. “I want to know if I heard you correctly.” “W-what I said?” he stammers out. “What did I say?” “Just now. Tell me that last thing you said.” “That h-human women are hungry for elf cock?” “That’s what I thought you said,” I say, voice calm before I rear back and punch him in the face. I punch him so hard that he goes flying backwards, landing in a heap on the ground. He yells in pain, clutching his broken nose while blood pours down his face. I walk over to him and easily lift him off the ground, holding him in the air by his tunic. “You are disgusting,” I tell him through clenched teeth. “I find your actions deplorable. You are dishonorable. I hereby strip you of your rank and cast you from the service. Go before I beat the living shit out of you, you worthless sack of manure.” Varhys slinks out the door, holding his face with his hand, shoulders hunched. I watch him leave. “And if any of