Wanting Cinnia

Liquid fire raced down Cinnia's body to pool in the pit of her womb. When she tried to move; to fight past the hot pangs that tore through her abdomen and her heart, heavy weights pressed down on her arms and legs.

She couldn't see anything and it made her burning heart race. All she knew was debilitating pain.

Denzel paced the length of the room, biting down on his fingers—an old habit that he hadn't quite gotten rid of— and watched the doctor administer shot after shot; forcing his princess to vomit and cough up thick strings of blood but nothing was working.

Cinnia's flawless dark skin was pale with darkened veins tainting her arms and exposed belly. Denzel wished he had prolonged the suffering of all the members of the rogue pack. He regretted making their deaths quick. For what was happening to Cinnia, he would have torn them limb from limb slowly, enjoying their pleas and cries for mercy which he would never grant.

But his hands were tied. The Blood Demons had been eradicated