Back At The Barnyard Duke Novels & Stories

The next day I woke up, I am now the fiance of the Demon Duke in the Kingdom of Franche-Comte, a kingdom that believes in religion, however, it has a Demon Lord living among its people, Duke of Dubois Castle, or known as Lemon. He holds my hand tight and trails kisses to my pulse, ever since I have known that this man is a Demon who saved my life with the contract of fulfilling his desire, he frequents my room almost every night. “It is not money, and not my title as the countess, also you said that it is not my soul, what is it that you desire Duke?” he paused and those jewel red eyes looked at me intently, he climbed onto my bed and even closed the distance between us. I could feel the war

The warriors held the door open for the duke as he hauled the red-face, muffling chameleon until the first glass wall came into view, where he slammed the hunter against. Larson groaned as Greg held him up by jabbing his claws through the hunter’s collar, feeling the tips meeting the glass surface while Larson screamed and muffled a line of curses. Deciding to improvise instead of going ahead with the initial method to end the bastard, Greg made their eyes fuse before smirking darkly, relishing in the hunter’s weakened state. Without warning, the duke crushed Larson’s elbows and ankles, broke his limbs, watched him take bated breaths and turn pale, about to pass out. Right before he did, Gre

If they're still in the nursery, then she's lying again. He snatched up the sat phone, voice rough, demanding. "I want a video of the two babies my wife delivered. Right now."

Rowan complimented and without waiting for a reaction, he turned to Mateo who immediately bowed understanding what he meant. He pushed his hand into the inner pocket of his brown jacket and walked towards Farrell bearing a seal in his hand. "I believe everyone recognizes this seal?" Rowan asked and Farrell looked at Mateo who smirked at him. Then with a dramatic yell, "Bow to the Duke of Kerstone!" He raised the golden seal in the sky and Farrell gulped. What was happening? Immediately, he bowed falling to his knees and his head touching the ground. The men behind Rowan fell to their knees immediately with Constance standing at their back with a gaped mouth.

shatters the otherwise quiet air. The QR code has been sent to Duke’s phone. My veins thrum with excitement and anticipation as I peer down at his screen. “What does it say? Where did he keep them?” “It says here 7332 West Allen Avenue. That’s all.” “Duke, can you figure out where this is?” My voice drips with barely restrained impatience. Duke whips out his iPad and within seconds, his fingers are flying over the keys. “On it.” A minute later, he says; “it’s an abandoned animal farm called Eat Better Stables about twenty kilometers from here. If we leave now, we should get there before sunrise.”

I whisper, but it comes out thin, swallowed by rain. Duke hears it. Of course he does. His silver eyes slide past Jake — just for a heartbeat — and lock on me. Hungry. Curious. Possessive in that way that makes my skin crawl. Jake sees the glance. And loses his mind. He tackles Duke so hard they both crash into the remains of the supply scaffold, wood splintering like bone. Duke laughs — breathless, delighted — rolling with the impact like it’s a game. “You feel it too, don’t you?” Duke murmurs as they struggle in the mud, claws tangling, teeth bared. “The pull. The break. The little fissure I carved in the bond.”

She wailed. Looking up, Cassy happened to meet the Duke's frowning gaze, and knew her moment of triumph was over too soon. He shoved the stallion's reins toward Smith and told him to take the horse back to the paddock, then strode to Cassy. "Let me see, Levington," he commanded, and she slowly took her hands away from her face. "Don't look so stricken. A broken nose might lend some masculinity to your face," the Duke said dryly, and Cassy shuddered.

Silence hung heavy for a minute, giving me a chance to slip out of the closet. Maybe I could crawl under the bed. Or maybe not, ugh! Footsteps again. Stifling a groan, I scurried back into the cramped closet, leaving the door a sliver open for eavesdropping. This Trevor fellow, unlike the Duke with his dark, brooding presence, was all sunshine and golden curls. Built smaller than the Duke, he couldn't have been much older than me. Yet, here he was, wanting to share hushed tones with the enigmatic Duke. A spark of hope ignited within me. This conversation, shrouded in secrecy, could be the key to making Lawrence happy.