Page 37 of Savage Blood (Den of Shadows #6)

Chapter

Twenty-Four

Wrath, sitting across the faux stone table, tapped the lowball glass in front of me. “Don’t you like your cocktail?”

The tangy, spicy vodka concoction sat untouched, the ice melting and glass sweating.

“Oh, I love it.” I took a sip and smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes.

Slow, sultry music pumped through the speakers at Wrath & Ruin tonight as lights bounced over the cave-like décor, making the indigo and violet geodes sparkle. Patrons dressed in flashy, scandalous outfits danced and gathered at the tall cocktail tables and the booths along the walls.

Sweat and lust mixed with alcohol and desperation—and hunger. Red irises popped along the crowd, vampires looking for a willing victim while dark fae inhaled the sexual energy throbbing in the atmosphere. The demons also searched for a soul to sip.

The new demon lord of Savannah leaned back in the booth. “You seem distracted. ”

Understatement.

Reese’s words from the bonfire still haunted me. It’s not fully protected. You have a key to the gate.

What freaking gate?

“I just have a lot on my mind,” I muttered and then sipped my drink again.

Wrath dragged his fingers through his blue hair and nudged Logan, who sat beside him. “You’re not the only one.”

The other high demon was unusually quiet, his head bowed as he focused on the page in front of him.

“What’s with the coloring book, Logan?” I asked, unable to hide the humor in my voice. Watching a demon, even him, partake in arts and crafts was bizarre.

He shrugged and grabbed a green crayon out of the box on the table. “It helps me focus.”

“Does it have to be Disney princesses or would any coloring book work?”

A grin curved his lips. “I love Disney princesses. If they were real, they’d love me too. In fact, they’d probably fight over me.”

I chuckled and tapped the page he was working on. “Is Rapunzel from Tangled your favorite?”

“We definitely share the same chaotic energy, and I’ve used a frying pan as a weapon before.” He grabbed a pink crayon and used it to fill in her dress with smooth strokes. “Of course, I could also be the charming swashbuckler Flynn Rider.”

Wrath leaned toward him. “Tear me out a page. I want to color one too.”

“Who do you want?” Logan flipped through the book and stopped when Wrath slapped his hand on a page depicting Sleeping Beauty.

“Auroa will do just fine,” Wrath said.

Logan tore out the page and then turned his attention to me, the lights dancing on his gold-brown locks. “Want to join?”

I tossed my hands in the air. “Sure. I can’t be the odd man out.”

As Logan tore out a page of Ariel from The Little Mermaid , I couldn’t help but smile.

When I agreed to go to the supernatural club with Charla, Alicia, and Kourtney, coloring pictures of princesses with two powerful high demons while the girls gyrated together on the dance floor was not how I pictured my evening turning out.

“Is she your favorite?” I jerked my chin toward Wrath’s page.

“Taking a long, relaxing nap while everyone else fights the battles and overcomes evil? That sounds amazing.” He winked and plucked a blue crayon from the box. “Plus, who wouldn’t want to wake up to a kiss from a handsome prince?”

My heart clenched as some of the light faded from Wrath’s eyes. He’d lost the love of his life, and no matter how much blame his brother had in Warin’s death, I was responsible too. I physically killed him.

I grabbed a green crayon and colored Ariel’s tail as sand filled my mouth. Unable to choke the thickness down, my voice was hoarse when I spoke again.

“So, Logan, what’s giving that brilliant, chaotic brain of yours problems?”

“He’s attempting to produce Soulvation even though he has no access to the Infernal Sol to balance the formula,” Wrath answered. “The whole thing is a waste.”

Logan pouted. “It’s not a waste. And now that Ruin is back, he can help. ”

The other high demon’s lips thinned. “My brother should be dead. If it weren’t for his bond with Roxie, he would be.”

Before coming to the club, I’d stopped by the lab to visit Ruin. He assured me Hawk was fine. Roman had healed him, and, according to Roxie, my best friend was safely locked in his room. She checked on him as often as possible and made sure he had food.

“Don’t worry, beautiful,” Ruin had said with that charming smile. “My little Renfield is very good at keeping Barric distracted from Hawk.”

My stomach churned. I didn’t even want to imagine what Roxie did to distract my father.

“My always clever brother knew what he was doing when he formed a bond with Roxie,” Wrath said, flicking a lock of hair out of his face while he grabbed another crayon. “Adding Hawk’s life into the mix gave him even more security.”

“But demon bonds aren’t taken lightly.” A line formed between Logan’s eyebrows. “As much as Ruin believes he’s in control of everything, the bond can develop and transform into something more intimate. It will most likely draw the two of them together.”

My hand stopped moving across the page as I lifted my other one to the tattoo on my neck. “Do you think that’s what happened with Fane and me? He is half demon. Did he unconsciously create a demon bond between us when he bit me?”

Wrath reached for his vibrant blue cocktail and sipped it. “It’s not that simple. Maybe Fane being half demon and you having the Infernal Sol allowed a bond to form, but it’s way more intense and powerful than anything a demon can create on their own.”

“Astral projection like you two are capable of is not something usually found in demon bonds,” Logan added. “Neither is the ability to take each other’s pain.”

“Plus, demon bonds can be broken.” Wrath wiggled his long, tattooed fingers over the box of crayons as he searched for a specific color. “You and Fane are stuck together forever.”

I hoped he was right.

“Where’s your shadow tonight, by the way?” Logan sipped his fuchsia drink and smacked his lips. “Yummy.”

“Fane’s been keeping his distance since his near-death battle with Saint in Mohan Wilds.” I peered through the crowd, almost expecting to find him lurking around. The separation anxiety wasn’t currently burning through my veins, so he could be nearby.

“He meant your other one. Saint.” Wrath frowned around the shifter’s name. “He barely leaves you alone.”

Logan elbowed him. “He’s trying to heal her. Being around each other is a necessity.”

Wrath scowled. “Yeah, well, I think he likes hanging around Tate a little too much. She already has a mate. She doesn’t need another.”

I rubbed my temples to ease the sudden tension in my head and sighed. “Saint’s just trying to help.”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Wrath muttered.

The crowd parted, and Kourtney rushed over, clad in a curve-hugging pink dress that made her tan complexion glow. “Come dance with us.”

Logan nudged my foot under the table. “Go on. You can brood over your life tomorrow.”

Wrath grinned and plucked the crayon right out of my hand. “I’ll save your picture for later.”

“Fine.” I downed the rest of my drink and took Kourtney’s hand. “Just one song. ”

Kourtney snorted. “One song, my ass. You’re dancing until the lights come on.”

Alicia and Charla grinned when they saw Kourtney towing me toward them. As another song started, we gathered and danced.

And danced.

And danced.

I lost myself in the music, the beat thumping against my chest and drowning out my worrisome thoughts. Many songs later, a fine sheen of sweat coated me, and my legs trembled, but I felt lighter than I had in weeks.

No cravings for the Infernal Sol poured through my veins, and I wasn’t agonizing over the situation with Saint and Fane. Fear of my slow, torturous death from the poisonous shard of stone eating away at me disintegrated. My worry for Hawk remained, but it was muted.

I’d been a walking ball of tension and anxiety since returning from the Underworld, but tonight, I could finally breathe—even if it was just for a little while.

Charla’s brown eyes widened at something behind me just as a tiny wave of heat cascaded down my spine. A familiar scent of pine and wintry outdoors swam up my nostrils from the presence forming at my back.

I turned to find Saint, whose hot, searing gaze—like molten steel—traveled down my body and practically caressed my every curve. My crop top and jeans covered most of my skin, but I might as well have been naked.

“You’re here.” I swallowed thickly, my mouth suddenly dry as a desert.

The edges of his lips twitched. “I’m here.”

“I thought you had to stay in Blackwater Falls for the night. ”

He shook his head, tossing those lustrous black strands. “We finished up early, and Avery basically kicked me out of my house.”

“Oh.” Although I shoved my hands into my pockets, I couldn’t stop my feet from moving to the beat of the music.

Saint noticed and closed the tiny space between us. “Don’t stop dancing on my account. In fact, I’d love to join you.”

Before I could respond, he slipped my hands out of my pockets and wrapped them around his neck, his scorching form pressing into mine. My pulse spiked when he grabbed my hips and started moving to the slow rhythm of the booming bass.

My lungs filled with his scent, his taste, and I didn’t pull away when the air around us crackled.

Son of a bitch.

This was a bad idea. But he felt so damn good.

I nibbled on my bottom lip and moved with him, electricity sparking between us. Flames licked at me, and he lowered his head, hot breath teasing my lips. The girls danced beside us, casting curious glances our way.

Guilt swirled through my gut from the urges unfurling inside, like the massive wings of some wild animal just waking from a deep slumber. Claws raked beneath my surface, and the inner beast bared its teeth, longing to burst free and hunt.

And Saint was its prey.

What was wrong with me?

I shouldn’t be dancing with him.

A laugh sounded from the depths of my mind. This was more than dancing. Our clothes were all that separated us from sex. If we lost those…

I choked back a moan as the tingles radiating between my legs had me leaning into him .

“We’re just dancing, Tate,” he murmured, his nose brushing mine.

Bullshit.

Saint’s fingers burned into my flesh as he let them drift to my bare sides and rubbed circles there.

The air caught in my lungs, and my heart raced as desire built in my chest. I couldn’t deny the attraction between us, and the way Saint rolled his hips into mine had moisture pooling between my legs. Saint’s nostrils flared as he scented my arousal.

If I asked him to kiss me, he would.

If I asked him to take me into a dark corner, tear my pants down around my ankles, and fill me with his cock, he would.

No questions asked.

Saint’s gaze followed a trail of sweat leaking down the front of my throat, and before I could stop him, he dipped forward, his tongue gliding across my skin to lick it up. A moan burst out of my mouth, and my fingers dug into his nape. My hips rocked into the bulge in his jeans.

Unable to trust what I’d do, afraid I’d kiss him, I spun and pressed my back into his front. Of course, my traitorous body reacted, rubbing my ass against his erection.

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmured against my throat, his lips remaining on the side without my tattoo. “I can only imagine what your mouth tastes like. And this.”

Saint’s hand slipped between my legs and cupped me through my jeans.

An electric shock hit me low in the belly, and I arched into him, panting.

This was wrong. So fucking wrong.

“I know you love him. You’ll always love him,” Saint whispered. “But we could be good together, too. Maybe you could have us both.”

What the ever-loving hell was he doing to me?

And how could I be that selfish? Sharing me would drive them nuts. They were too damn alpha male for that. I was attracted to Saint and cared for him, but my feelings for him would never be as strong as they were for Fane.

That just wasn’t possible.

Saint’s hand drifted higher until his palm pressed against my bare abdomen. “I don’t mean to put pressure on you, but I want you to know what I’m willing to do to heal you. And to make you happy.”

As more cracks burrowed through my resolve, attempting to shatter it, I lifted my arm and wrapped it around his neck, rolling my hips to the beat of the music.

And then fire ignited over my neck tattoo as I found Fane on Ruin’s—now Wrath’s—VIP balcony above the club. Those powerful tattooed fingers curled around the metal railing, and a pair of smoldering irises, one blue and one gold, materialized through the shadows.

My stomach tightened, and heat consumed every inch of me while Fane Maverick watched me dancing with another man, just like he’d done the first night we met. The lust Saint had poured into my bloodstream was nothing compared to what Fane did just standing across the club.

Goose bumps broke out over my flesh, and I had to bite my lip to keep my whimper from slipping out. Rage pummeled through the bond.

And desire.

Those ghostly hands ran over my body, tormenting and tempting me.

Years ago, I’d fought the urge to leave the dance floor and find that nightworlder on the balcony. Here we were again, locking eyes across the club while another man tried to seduce me. And still, the demon shifter was the one who made my knees shake.

Would I deny the urge once again, or would I go after what I wanted?