Page 111 of Vengeance and Vipers

I don’t want to watch his face, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes away.

He freezes, his shocked eyes that are on my body darting back up to mine for a second and then down again.

I was in the middle of changing, I remember dully. All I’m wearing is lingerie. He can see almost all of me.

A hiccupping laugh bubbles out of me.

‘Don’t you like what you see?’ I choke out. ‘If you wanted a look at me, all you had to do was ask.’

‘Baby …’ Daemon breathes faintly. His eyes are tortured when they finally make their way back up to my face.

I ignore him.

‘Want to view it all?’ I ask. ‘Take a look. See the cuts, the brands, the symbols they cut into me.’

I twirl slowly for him, numb.

‘Who did this to you?’ he snarls, grabbing me and turning me back to face him.

His bare hand elicits a deep, mortifying moan from me, my back arching at his touch. He jumps back.

‘Jules,’ he whispers.

ChapterSeventeen

IRON

I’m frozen in shock. She finally notices me in the doorway and lets out a tortured wail that breaks me out of my motionless state.

‘That the hell is this?’ I snarl, wrenching Daemon away from her. ‘What did you do?’

‘I didn’t—I didn’t know,’ he whispers.

He looks back at Jules. ‘I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t know.’

The connection I have with Jules tells me exactly how injured she is as if I couldn’t already see it in her face. She’s just standing in front of us, shivering, tears leaking from her eyes. I don’t want to look, but I can’t help it.

‘This was what you were hiding with the conjure?’ I ask, feeling like a piece of shit.

I glance at Daemon.But not as big a piece of shit as he is.

‘What did you do?’ I snarl. ‘How did you even know how to—’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he says, turning away. ‘Fix it. Help her. I don’t know how.’

‘You sonofabitch,’ I hiss, and he recoils.

I approach Jules slowly. She doesn’t even seem to see me. I can’t help but take a closer look at the scars; my stomach is churning.

There’s a brand in the shape of an elaborate ‘T’ on her chest just above her left breast. Burn and knife scars litter her arms, her stomach, and her torso.

‘Who did this to you?’ I ask, trying to keep the anger from my voice so I don’t scare her.

She doesn’t show any signs that she’s heard me.

‘Jules.’

Nothing.