Page 14

CHAPTER 13

I can feel the fae watching me, and it’s unnerving. I face the window, refusing to look at him, lest that makes him strike. My eyes are open and my hand is wrapped around my dagger, which is obscured by the sheets. It will take precious seconds to free it, but it would also be an open invitation to attack if he sees me with it.

“Sleep, human. I promise not to kill you until you wake.” His silken voice fills the air, and the room seems to darken, cool white filigrees and animals filling the space in an epic display of magic. A bunny hops before my eyes before disappearing and morphing into a moon with stars.

“Enough,” I snap.

He chuckles, but the magic disappears. Closing my eyes, I force myself to relax, even as I swear I feel something brush across my cheek. “I will make good on my threat if you come near me, fae. I swear it.”

“I have no doubt,” he murmurs. “Sleep.”

“I’m going to—not because you ordered me to, but because I planned to,” I mutter.

“Stubborn, fierce human.” He chuckles, but it sounds too close for my liking. He wants a reaction, but I don’t give him one.

One by one, I force my muscles to relax.

I suppose most people wouldn’t be able to fall asleep knowing an evil fae who has developed a taste for your soul and blood is watching you so closely, but I’ve slept around my team for years, and they craved my pain and death just as much.

I am, however, a light sleeper, so when I feel the sheets move sometime later, my eyes open.

I must have flipped to my back during the night, my dagger still held in my grip. Frowning, I try to figure out what woke me. I glance around the dark room, but I do not see the fae anywhere, and my heart starts to pound with adrenaline and fear.

Suddenly, the sheets move again, and my gaze sweeps down my body, widening when I see the bulge at the end of the bed big enough to be a person. It moves up, the sheets moving with it. Hands grip my thighs, and I am yanked down the bed and under the sheets.

A yelp escapes my mouth, but I swing my dagger, only to freeze when a hand wraps around it and I’m unable to pull back or push forward. My eyes strain in the darkness, trying to see even though I know it’s the fae before his voice fills the strained, warm darkness of the cocoon under the sheets.

“You said not to get near you, nothing about touching.”

Snarling, I struggle against his grip with all my strength. Luckily, he’s only touching the blade, so I do not have to see into his head, but all it does is make him hiss, and then something wet drips onto my leg. I freeze, and he chuckles.

“Would you like to see?” Before I can respond, a dull, warm white glow illuminates under the sheets, which seem to blow up into a dome.

There are drops of ruby red blood on my thigh. Slowly, I drag my gaze up and meet his. His hand holds the blade, and blood slowly slides down it, hitting my thigh below.

“You made me bleed, human,” he murmurs as he leans in, his hair glowing like a fucking halo, which is a lie. “Now it’s my turn to make you bleed. A cut for a cut.”

Before I can even suck in a breath, he is on me, pinning me to the bed, his teeth sinking into my neck.

My head slams back into the mattress as an agonising scream tries to erupt from my throat, but I bite it back, slapping at him. He sinks his teeth deeper, worrying at my neck. I feel my blood spill down across my shoulder and to the bed, and the pain makes my heart slam like a trapped bird.

Gritting my teeth, I manage to free one of my hands from between us as he drinks my blood with a deep moan.

I slide my hand down my side. Despite the agony rolling through me, I grip the dagger beside me and slam it into his ribs, twisting it as he gasps and jerks against me. “You think you’re the first handsy monster I’ve dealt with?” I snap as I shove it deeper. It must hurt like a bitch, and I feel his blood flowing down from the deep wound, but he doesn’t release my neck. If anything, he moans into the wound, and my eyes widen as his hips roll.

He forces himself against me, falling between my thighs until he’s pressed against my crotch, rubbing himself against me as he feeds, all while I twist the dagger deeper, but he doesn’t care.

Sick fucking fae.

I wrench my head forward, ripping my neck wound even more, and sink my teeth into his pale flesh. I feel his skin pop in my mouth, blood pouring down my neck and throat, and I jerk my head, trying to cause as much damage as I can until I have to fall back, gasping.

Choking on my own blood, I stare at him as he kneels, reaching up to trace the jagged, feral wound marring the perfection of his pale, glistening neck. The blood staining his lips and teeth betray his nature as he grins and then starts to laugh.

Coughing up blood, I fight to cover my wound, knowing it’s too deep.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Do not say I am unkind.” He waves his hand, and I feel his magic move through me. My neck wound stitches back together, the bleeding stops, and I can breathe again as he heals me. “You caused that. You would have survived my wound, but you inflicted that one yourself. I am benevolent, am I not?” He strokes his fingers across the wound on his neck like one would a cock. “But I do like this—a mark from my little human. I would be sad to see it go.”

His hand glows, and he presses it to his wound. I watch the mark heal and scar over—something this fae does not have, nor any other.

A wicked scar now disfigures his neck in the shape of my teeth.

“You’re mad,” I whisper, dropping my hand from my neck.

“Very much so, but if I am, then so are you, human.”

His tongue darts out, licking my blood on his chin and lips. It seems to extend as I watch, turning long and forked, until he can lap it all up as I recoil into the bed, searching for the dagger before I realise it’s still in his side.

He sees my eyes on it and plucks it free with a groan. His eyes shut for a moment, and when they open again, they are blazing with desire and locked on me.

“Don’t you dare—” The dagger sinks into the bed next to my head as he leans down, his lips nearly touching mine.

“The fae do not like to be indebted. Do you know that?” he murmurs.

I nod slowly, confused as to where that came from, until he grins. “You made me come when you ripped my neck open. It’s time I returned the favour.”

He grips my hips, and magic moves over me, dissolving my clothes. Horror fills me for a moment, and I grab the dagger and sit up, pressing it to his neck. “You will not fucking touch me,” I bite out, forcing anger into my tone as I try to ignore the small hint of desire that sparks inside me.

I clearly need help.

“Fine.” His smile only grows. “I do not need to touch you to make you come.”

“Wait, what do you—” I fall back with a shout as ecstasy courses through me, lighting my blood on fire. It’s all I can feel as my body convulses, writhing in the bloody sheets, the dagger dropped and forgotten. My eyes roll back into my head as my clit throbs so hard my hips come off the bed, my cunt becoming so wet I feel it drip below me.

My nipples tighten to the point of pain, as if they are being squeezed in a vice or between teeth, and I swear I feel a tongue drag along my folds before something thick and hard thrusts into me.

He uses magic to fuck me without even moving, amusement and desire dancing in his gaze as he watches me come apart from a single thought.

Another scream rips from my throat as I come harder than I ever have, and the magic still doesn’t retreat. It slides through every inch of my body, flicking against nerves I didn’t even know existed until I whimper and come again, my cream covering my thighs until I finally slump.

The magic still hums through me, but not as strong as it was. The covers have disappeared. I don’t even know when, but I’m spread eagle on the bed, covered in blood and cum. My eyes widen when I notice Ronan observing near the ceiling.

“Well, I only came to see what the screaming was about. Now that I know it’s not him murdering you, I’ll go.” He slowly fades backwards into the wall before popping his head through. “Carry on, don’t mind me.”

“Ronan,” I croak, but he’s gone. He won’t help me. I guess he thinks I wanted this.

I’m going to wrap him in iron and kick his ass in the morning.

The magic frees me at the interruption, and it’s the break I need to grab my forgotten dagger. I scramble to my knees, my body weak and overheated.

Gripping my dagger, I point it at him. “Do that again and I’ll gut you.”

“Haven’t we established that I like your blade?” he mocks as he leans in. “Why don’t we make a deal?”

“Only a fool makes a deal with a fae,” I snarl. “I am no fool.”

“No, you are not, but you are delicious. I think I will keep you alive to play with for a while. I debated just draining you.”

“How fucking nice of you.”

“Isn’t it?” he replies wistfully.

“Fuck this.” Sliding off the bed, I open the wardrobe and find a robe. I wrap it around my body and belt it. Holding my dagger, I grab the only intact pillow from the bed and toss the fae another glare as I head to the door.

“Where are you running off to? Trying to run from me?” he teases as he follows.

“Not running, just too fucking tired to deal with your shit right now. You got what you wanted. You ate and won the game, now leave me alone,” I snarl, not sparing him a look, mortification heating my cheeks at what he made my body do.

He licks the shell of my ear, making me stumble. “Admit you enjoyed it, hunter.”

“Drop dead,” I snap as I open the final door in the corridor, correctly guessing it’s Shamus’s bedroom. It’s a huge room, with a sitting room and an open sliding door to a raised bedroom at the back. Stretched out on his front on one sofa is Shamus. He lifts his head at the sound and peers at me.

“Angel?” He frowns, running his eyes down the blood splattered across my skin.

Gripping my pillow, I turn away from him and drop it onto the other leather sofa, then I throw myself down, ignoring them as I flip them off and turn to face the back of the sofa.

“Erm . . . hello?” he says, confusion lacing his tone.

The fae mocks, “If you think him being here will protect you, hunter . . .”

“Shamus, Shamus, Shamus, I caught them fucking—” Ronan cuts off, and fury explodes through me, making me sit up as they all turn to look at me.

“If I hear one more fucking word from a single one of you, I am going to chop off your balls and hang them out of the window. Okay?” I yell. “Even you, ghost boy. I will find a way. Don’t tempt me!”

When I drop down with a huff, it’s quiet for a moment. “You would think getting laid would make her happier. Maybe you did it wrong, fae. There’s a lot of blood, but some people are into that.”

“That’s it—” I jerk upright, but Ronan disappears. I turn my glare on Shamus and the fae. “I mean it.” I point from my eyes to them before slumping down and curling around myself.

I’m just starting to fall asleep when something soft covers me. I startle and look down at a fluffy blanket. My eyes go to Shamus’s retreating back as he limps over to the other sofa.

I track his movements for a moment, something thick coating my throat before I turn away and force myself to sleep, needing the rest.