Page 59

What a disaster this night, or more morning as it is now, became. Tandi hisses, and his claws got her deep, the napkins barely doing anything to stem the bleeding.

“Damian needs to heal you,” Trey mumbles, looking over his shoulder at Damian.

“He mutilated me! I don’t want him anywhere near me!” she snaps.

“Just help me up; I will walk it off,” she groans as she holds her hands out to me, and I grab them, hauling her to her feet. Yet the moment she stands, blood cascades down her leg like a waterfall, Trey clutches her thigh in both hands.

“Don’t be fucking stubborn!” Damian snaps, shaking off Kyson’s arm on his shoulder.

“No! You’re not touching me!” she snaps at him when he pauses, looking around on the floor where mushed-up cake and spilled drinks ruin the floor, and guilt smashes me at the mess we have made. Damian growls, snatches the cake knife fromthe floor, and stalks toward her. She stumbles back, her leg still clutched in Trey’s hand.

“Get off her!” Damian snarls, and he holds the knife out to her. Her hands tremble as she hesitantly snatches it.

“Enjoy it. It will be the only time I let you carve me up!” he snaps at her before dropping to his knees in front of her. He growls and looks up at her, and shakes his head.

“What? You don’t get to act disgusted. You did it!” she snaps at him.

“I’m not disgusted! Look at it!” he snaps at her, and we all lean a little closer, and she narrows her eyes at him, pursing her lips.

“You best be bloody fixing it. I am not walking around with DAM on my leg!” she growls furiously.

Did she mean she wanted him to carve into her more? Or did I hear that wrong? Damian looks over his shoulder at the King. Kyson shrugs, his eyebrows lifting almost into his hairline at her words.

“Well, you asked this time, so don’t bitch when it hurts,” he tells her.

“Yes, because you mutilated me! Now fix it!” she says, tapping her foot impatiently.

He lifts his hand to her leg, his sharp claw slicing through her soft flesh, and she grits her teeth, grabs his shoulder and bares it while I feel woozy just watching.

Damian does it fast before running his tongue across it and quickly healing the damage he caused, leaving behind only faint scarring.

Tandi examines it, scrutinizing it when a wicked smile graces her face as she runs her thumb over the knife in her hand, wiping the chocolate off it before sucking on her thumb.

“My turn! And you better not squirm like a bitch,” she says, and I look away, noticing that he has shifted back and is now naked, kneeling before her.

“Your name only. You write something stupid on me, and I will…”

“Do nothing. You cut me first!” she says, waving the knife in his face. He sighs, and Trey gets to his feet, reaching me at the same time Kyson does.

“That is not normal!” Trey says, shaking his head at them as Tandi carves her name above his pec, while Damian watches her, making sure she embellishes nothing.

“Wait, I forgot to dot the I,” she says, stabbing the point into him and making him hiss.

“There,” she says, dropping the knife and walking off. She passes us and moves through the double doors, snickering to herself. Damian stops beside us, and I glance at his chest, keeping my eyes above the waist. His blood streaks down his chest as he stares after her.

“That woman is driving me crazy! I don’t know if I wanna kill her or kiss her. Maybe both!” he snaps, chasing after her while mumbling. When they leave, Kyson’s hand falls on my lower back, and I cringe, waiting for his wrath.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, kissing my temple. I peer up at him as he drapes his arm across my shoulders.

“You’re not mad?” I ask him.

“Too tired to be mad at you. Besides, you don’t look drunk, and you’re not brandishing a knife like a madwoman,” he says, gripping my face and sniffing me.

“I only had half a glass of wine. I stopped drinking. It wouldn’t be right if I was drinking while constantly scolding you for the same thing,” I tell him. He glances at Trey and sighs.

“I trust you. And I trust Trey not to let you get in trouble, Azzy,” he says, kissing my forehead.

“Come on, I should clean this mess up,” I tell him, looking at the mess we made.