Page 27

T WENTY -S EVEN X ANDER

Camille’s arrival could have gone worse. I expected her to be upset, and it was warranted. I would’ve much rather gone for her myself and had her come willingly, but there wasn’t time to finesse that. What’s important now is that she’s here and she’s safe. With my third trial looming, I can’t worry about Camille and keep my focus where it needs to be.

I left her alone last night when she retreated to the bedroom Blake brought her to when she arrived. As much as I wanted her next to me, I have to be mindful of how close I get. I’m so fucking close to the throne, and with just under a month until the winter solstice and the ascension summit, my final trial could come any day. I need to be at my strongest. I can’t let any ounce of weakness in.

Camille brings out whatever humanity lingers in me which, by all accounts, is dangerous. Any flicker of vulnerability could mean the difference between ascending the throne and being damned to guard the deepest, darkest pits of hell.

But that doesn’t stop me from being drawn to her, especially when she’s under the same roof I am.

The others have kept their distance since they arrived. Greer hasn’t left her room, so Jude has spent most of her time in there with her so she isn’t alone, while Roman and Francesca have been scouring for any information about Marrick’s plan to create demons from humans.

I find Camille leaving the dining room and cut into her path with a smooth, “There you are.”

“Where else would I be?” she offers with an arched brow, and I can’t ignore the way her heart beats faster when she sees me. An ever-present reminder of how I enjoy the way I affect her far too much for a demon who isn’t meant to feel such things. That said, I suppose the primal instinct to claim her is far from human…

I tilt my head to the side, trying to get a read on her, though she’s learned quite well to school her features. “How are you?”

She blinks at me, a prelude of her wildly unimpressed tone. “Seriously? How do you think I’m doing?”

“Camille—”

“I didn’t think I could feel so claustrophobic in such a huge house but I’m trying not to rip my hair out here.”

“You’re welcome to explore the grounds, though it’s a bit cold out there now. Or I’m sure Gio would be happy to give you a cooking lesson. Something to pass the time so you’re not entirely left alone with your thoughts.” I know how she operates. How easily her own mind can betray her and trigger a panic attack. I’ll do whatever I can to prevent that from happening here.

“You want me to hang out with the demon equivalent of a Disney character?” When I chuckle at her frankly spot-on reference of Gio, she punches me in the arm, and I don’t stop her. “It’s not funny!”

I cough to muffle the sound of my laughter, holding up my hands. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve just never heard someone describe Gio that way, but it’s pretty accurate.” He’d absolutely agree too—even the demons are nicer in Canada.

“Whatever,” she grumbles. “That’s not the point.”

I nod thoughtfully. “Of course not.”

Camille exhales a harsh breath. “You won’t let me leave this place, and I’m going out of my mind. I went from training every day to nothing, and it’s making me antsy.”

“Let me change, and we can go down to the gym together.”

“No,” she says without missing a beat.

“No?” I can’t help the lilt of amusement in my tone that surely matches my expression.

She shakes her head. “I’m not going to train with a demon. Especially not you.”

Something in me latches onto the challenge. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t have to give you a reason. ‘No’ is a complete sentence.”

I whistle softly. “Are you this snarky with that hunter of yours?”

She freezes at the mention of Noah, dropping her gaze as her heart lurches, and she shakes her head as if to herself. Just when I think she’s going to refuse me, she looks back up. “Meet me downstairs.”

Surprise flares in my chest and my brows lift. “Really? I thought it’d take more convincing. Maybe a bit of quippy banter.”

She rolls her eyes and walks past me. “Prepare to have your ass handed to you.”

I have no doubt it’s a false bravado, but I’m thoroughly entertained by her display of confidence.

After stopping in my room to change into a T-shirt and joggers, I head to the gym to find Camille finishing a warmup on the treadmill. My gaze locks on the green workout set that clings to her and shows off a sliver of her stomach, and I have to bite back a possessive growl as I devour her with my eyes. Her heart is beating steadily, and I can’t help the urge to prowl toward her and—

Her eyes meet mine, and my train of thought halts as she swallows hard, stepping off the machine. I start across the gym, and we meet near the middle of the room, an open space with padded flooring.

“Ready when—”

The words aren’t out of my mouth before Camille dives into action. She launches herself at me, kicking out hard with her right leg, and manages to hit the back of my knee while I’m still consumed by surprise. I grunt at the shock of contact more than discomfort, then instantly correct my footing and stalk toward her.

“You’ll have to do better than that, mo shíorghrá ,” I taunt.

Anticipation flashes in her eyes as her pulse thrums wildly, and she drops to her haunches, lunging forward and effectively taking my legs out from under me. We topple to the mats, and she grabs a fistful of my hair as she straddles my hips, wrapping her other hand around my throat. Sweat dots her brow and upper lip, her chest heaving above me as she visibly tries to catch her breath.

I make no effort to move. My own pulse is ticking faster, blood pumping harder as I fight the urge to abandon our fight for the chance to taste her. Her lips, her skin, her—

Fuck me .

Swallowing against her palm, I murmur, “Impressive.”

Her breath catches, and she freezes over me, her gaze snared in mine. I don’t wait a moment longer, moving in a blur and flipping us over to pin Camille to the floor. My thighs press on either side of her hips, and I grip her wrists as her pulse jackhammers, though she doesn’t immediately attempt to get free. She stares up at me silently while her heart beats like thunder in her chest, her lips parted as she breathes hard.

I could taunt her with the easy victory. Challenge her to fight me off.

Instead, I dip my face and capture her lips with mine.

Camille tenses beneath me, but any semblance of resistance is quickly lost as she closes her eyes and kisses me back.

My pulse thrums and energy zips through my veins like the most highly addictive drug as I switch my grip on Camille’s wrists to one hand, then bury the other in her hair. Deepening the kiss, my tongue darts out, sweeping across her lips before they part to let me in.

We fight for control of the kiss, no doubt bruising each other’s lips as we silently agree to let go of everything else but this moment. The bond between our souls was broken when I lost mine, but I feel as close to Camille as I did the first night we spent together. Even as everything else changed, what I feel for her never has.

I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I fell for Camille Morgan, but I know down to the marrow of my bones that I remain entirely in love with her even now.

That stark, quite possibly fatal admission has my heart pounding faster as the distant pang of fear edges me closer to losing myself. The control I have over my desire for Camille frays as I move my knee between her legs, pressing it to her core. I’m immediately rewarded with a gasp against my lips, and I use every ounce of willpower I have to keep from tearing her leggings off and burying myself inside her.

“If we don’t stop…” I trail off, voice low and deep with arousal. “It’s taking everything I have not to reacquaint myself with every inch of you right here.”

Camille pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, blinking her eyes open. I can see the fight she’s having with herself. She wants this as much as I do, despite the nagging voice I think we both hear telling us that crossing that line will only lead to more pain.

She swallows hard. “We can’t.”

Disappointment is a punch to the gut, but I nod. I need to shake the remnants of anxiety crackling through me. I can’t think about the reasons my pulse is racing or my chest feels like it’s about to explode. Not now. “Perhaps we should get back on task.”

Her brows lift. “Wha—”

“You want to show me that you can protect yourself against my kind. So please, go ahead.”

She narrows her eyes at me, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. “You’re hardly the best example of an average demon.”

The corner of my mouth kicks up as I brace myself over her, leaning closer. “A compliment?”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” she remarks dryly.

I chuckle softly, more relieved than I care to admit that she hasn’t lost her spark of humor. “Shall I ask Blake or Gio to come down and give it a go with you?”

“If I can beat them, will you let me go?” she shoots back, her breathing returning to a more normal rhythm.

I cock my head to the side, my eyes flicking across her face. “You didn’t seem to mind being here a minute ago.”

She scowls, bucking her hips in a failed, albeit amusing, attempt to get free. “Xander—”

“No,” I cut in, keeping her pinned beneath me as I lower my voice. “I wouldn’t let you go.” I won’t ever let you go .

Her breathing turns shallow once more, and she lowers her gaze so her lashes fan the darkness under her eyes. “How long do you expect me to stay here?”

With a sigh, I maneuver off of her, standing and pulling her upright. “That’s not a simple question to answer.” The situation is only becoming more complicated, and with Marrick attempting to overthrow everything I’m working toward, anyone who means anything to me is caught in his warpath. I haven’t decided how to explain all of that to Camille—it’s something I’d rather she never have to know, but that’s seeming less likely with every passing day.

Camille pulls away from me, concern etched into her hardened features as she regards me coldly. “My parents are going to worry.”

I nod. “I’m not saying you’re cut off from your loved ones.”

“But they don’t know where I am, and if they knew who I was with, it would be further cause for concern.”

I frown at that. Blake brought her to Vancouver to ensure we can keep her away from the danger coming down the pipeline. I’m not sure what I can say that will help her understand she won’t come to harm so long as she’s here. “You’re safe with me.”

There’s a deeper flush in her cheeks when her eyes meet mine. “You’d like me to tell the leaders of the demon hunting organization that their daughter is safe with the king of hell?”

I exhale a short laugh. “I won’t tell you how to speak to them, I’m only saying that you can. My phone isn’t traceable, so call your parents or Harper or whomever you wish.” I bite my tongue to keep from suggesting she avoid contacting Noah. It’s pathetic and undignified, and I refuse to entertain the notion of jealousy when it comes to that bastard, despite the simmering tension in my chest at the thought.

Camille winces at the offer, chewing her bottom lip. “Right.”

I arch a brow at her. “What is it?”

She hesitates, seemingly battling with how to respond before she exhales a sigh and says in a reluctant tone, “Without my phone, I…I don’t know their numbers.”

I press my mouth shut so I don’t laugh again. When her eyes narrow sharply, I hold up my hands. “It’s fine. I have Harper’s number in my phone. She’ll be able to send us your parents’.”

“Okay.” She peers around the room, as if she doesn’t know where to look anymore.

“You’re free to use this space whenever you like,” I say, feeling as if I need to show her that I’m trying. That as unideal as the situation is, her being here doesn’t have to be miserable.

“A prison with amenities,” she mutters under her breath as she moves away, wandering toward the stairwell to the main floor.

I follow her, walking a few paces behind. She stops at the bottom of the stairs, her pulse spiking as she whirls around to face me.

“What’s the endgame here?”

I fold my arms over my chest, leaning toward her. “I’m more concerned about right now. Keeping you alive and—”

“Ascending the throne,” she interjects, her pulse ticking faster as her gaze flits across my face.

“Yes.” It’s not a secret. My motivations have been clear for a while now. I’m committed to not keeping anything from her, even if it makes her hate me.

Her brows knit as if she’s disappointed. “What happens after that?”

“You’ll need to be more specific.”

She opens her mouth, then pauses and shakes her head. “Never mind.”

I catch her wrist as she turns toward the stairs. Her pulse races against my fingers, and when her eyes meet mine, she freezes. “Is there something you want to say to me?” I ask in a low voice.

She only shakes her head again, pulling her wrist out of my grip. “I should call my parents.”

When I fish my phone from my pocket and hand it to her, she takes it without a response, then climbs the stairs, leaving me looking after her with a longing that tugs at the remnants of my human heart.