Page 34 of The Damned (Coven of Bones #3)

M A R G O T

He stared up at me, those red eyes full of understanding he hadn’t earned.

I hadn’t done anything to give him more than basic knowledge about what I’d done to him, yet he stared at me as if I were the victim in this situation.

As if I were the one caught within a misconception, trapped in my own spell.

He’d already known he was under my spell. He hadn’t been operating under some delusion that this was genuine and had never even bothered to insinuate it was anything more.

So what changed?

Feather-light wings fluttered within my chest, the faintest stirring of emotions I’d long since buried as deep as I could.

The well I’d shoved them into threatened to bubble over, heated by the intensity of his statement.

The implications were unfathomable, and even if I logically knew it was only the spell talking, I couldn’t shake the questions they raised within me.

He doesn’t want to be free.

My knees locked as I stood before him, forcing myself to remain still as I searched for another path.

I didn’t dare touch the man before me, knowing that it would do far more harm than good.

Even if he’d been capable of giving his consent, I wasn’t able to keep this simple.

I wasn’t able to touch him without feeling, wasn’t able to simply make this a means to an end in the way I needed.

I wouldn’t have said that what I felt was the same as what Amelia had seemed to sense in that couple embracing outside.

But I felt something, a warmth that trailed off into the coldness of a void before I could grasp it.

Like it was constantly just out of my reach, but I wasn’t certain I wanted to take that final step to follow after it.

I shook my head, swallowing as I forced my knees to bend.

I nearly stumbled as they buckled beneath me, but disguised it as I moved to make my way past Beelzebub once more.

He didn’t reach out to stop me this time even though we both knew that no common rope could hold him tight if he did not allow it.

Instead, he waited until the moment I reached the door, my hand wrapping around the knob and preparing to escape into the potent air of Hell’s Second Circle, a place that would give any sex club a run for its money, to look for another willing victim.

“The way I see it, you have three options,” he said, his voice low.

He didn’t shout it to command my attention, but the steel in his tone was enough to make my spine go rigid.

Warning pulsed inside my head, the danger in his voice making my eyes close as I waited for him to finish.

“The smart choice is to get your ass back here and use me, however you need, to fulfill your obligation to Lust so that we can be done and move on from this place.”

“I think we have very different definitions of what smart entails in this situation. For me, staying as far away from you as possible is the wise choice. So I will pass on whatever it is you think is happening here,” I snapped, turning the knob in my hand.

I pulled it open, the door creaking on its hinges as I glanced back at Beelzebub.

His wings were held high, only the bottom tips scraping against the floor, and spread out around him.

The lines of sinew and muscle within them were somehow artistic, and I imagined many women had enjoyed trailing their fingers over them, tracing the map they created.

I moved to step through the door, shaking off my hesitation as he continued on with no regard for the need I’d expressed in my rejection.

“The second option is we remain here indefinitely. This is not the home I would have chosen for either of us, but I guess we will at least have the promise of eternity together to look forward to, and you can wait until the spell of your song has undoubtedly worn off and gain my consent then,” he said, his shoulders and wings rising with the motion of a shrug as I watched.

The statement lacked the sarcasm I would have expected to hear, all the hatred and anger he’d harbored for my witch heritage gone and leaving the words feeling too genuine.

“But you did say you were in a hurry to get home, didn’t you? ”

“And the third?” I dared to ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You can choose the very futile path and walk out that door intending to choose another partner to fulfill your needs. If you do that, you should do so knowing that I will simply keep killing anyone you touch,” he said.

There was no anger on his face that should have accompanied the threat of violence, just a blank look that made his promise feel matter-of-fact.

“You’re mine, songbird. I am asking you not to make me feel the agony of knowing you’ve chosen someone else.

I can’t do it. Don’t ask me to watch another man touch you knowing it should be me. ”

My hackles rose even as my skin tingled with awareness that felt less like anger and more like heat.

Where did he get the nerve?

“I don’t belong to anyone,” I said, walking away from the door to stand next to him. I wanted him to get the full force of my glare, the full weight of my independence as I stared him in the face.

“Is that so?” he asked, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip.

My eyes tracked the movement, the stirring within me far too fixated on the bite that should have been mine.

I shook off the thought as soon as it came, knowing it was just the magic coating my skin, bringing all my worst impulses to the surface, stripping away my will in a way that felt volatile.

“Then prove it, songbird. You have a willing victim right here. You walk out that door and we both know it’s to protect yourself from feeling something—not to protect me. ”

“You yourself said that we needed to keep this simple for the sake of your ability to protect me. I’d rather not die just so you can play with me,” I argued.

Touching him, using him would only make the spell worse, but I needed to move on before the magic of the Second Circle made me do something I would truly regret.

Before it stripped away my inhibitions entirely and left me a mass of needy flesh that had little control over my own body.

That was the promise of Lust, of the presence of the lord who presided over it.

Beelzebub shrugged. “I changed my mind. I have more than enough motivation to keep you safe regardless of whether or not you allow me to touch you. I am done making excuses for why this isn’t right. I know what I feel,” he said.

I glanced toward the open doorway, warring between my two options.

Staying here until my song wore off wasn’t one.

I needed to get back to warn Willow before she allowed the heirs to take their Tribunal seats.

I didn’t fully understand the consequences of what the binding ritual had done to us and our magic, but if what Amelia had said was true and I was cut off entirely from the magic that had been intended for me, did that mean that any witches who lived under me on the Council would suffer the same fate?

The Tribunal members were meant to be the conduits for their houses, for all magic to channel from the Source and through them. How could that happen if the connection had been tied into a knot?

I didn’t want to be the person who put my need to keep Beelzebub at arm’s length before the needs of my people.

The thought of playing games with him and watching him kill anyone I tried to touch didn’t horrify me as much as it should have after learning they’d recover, but it would be a waste of time.

I understood the resolution written into the lines of his face.

He was determined to make that not an option for me, and I wasn’t even certain it was something he could control.

Heaving a deep, aggravated sigh, I swung my leg over his, lowering my body slowly until I straddled his thighs.

The feel of him between my legs made me pause, but I reminded myself I was in control of this situation.

This was a choice, and while my options hadn’t been great, this was the one I’d chosen.

I could walk away. I could wait out the spell and then he would no longer desire me.

But I wanted to move on. I wanted to get the fuck out of Lust and away from the heat that swirled in my belly, only getting stronger as I stared down at Beelzebub.

I chose this, and there was no denying the familiarity and warm comfort that came from trusting Beelzebub to let me guide us through it. I wouldn’t have been able to say the same for a stranger I grabbed from downstairs.

His eyes met mine, his brow cocked to show that of all the plans I could have executed, this was the one he hadn’t been expecting.

“Your hands stay bound,” I said, my voice quiet as I raised my hands to his chest. I touched him, fighting back the tremble in my hands as I glided them lightly over his skin.

His runes glowed brighter as I touched them, his eyes falling lidded as I finally tucked my face into his neck.

My lips touched his jawline, a teasing glide as I made my way to his ear.

Each heave of my lungs seemed to happen in time with his, putting our chests together.

The thin silk of my dress did nothing to shield me from the feeling of his heat against me, from the brush of his body touching my sensitive, pierced flesh.

He surrounded me with his warmth, his wings coming around us. They didn’t seal me in, leaving an opening behind me where I could escape, but it felt like a shield.

Like the comfort of a blanket on a winter day spent staring at the falling snow through the windows.