Page 10 of Carnal Heart
Shame and lust war within me.
A shrill ring pierces the air, and my eyes snap to his multi-slate. Right there in bold letters is his father calling.
Suddenly, I’m hit with a rush of memories, specifically that damn phone call with Remy and Marco Lombardi, and the information I have on Devyn’s father.
Devyn sighs heavily. “Just a minute.” He spins on his heel and answers the call. Cold fear snakes up my spine as I realize what I’ve done and who’s on the other end of the line. Before Devyn can turn around and spot me, I slip out of the alcove and silently make my way down the hall.
Chapter four
Devyn
“Where the hell are you?” my father barks as soon as I answer my multi-slate.
I roll my eyes. Of course. Leave it to my father to ruin this lovely moment with my Praeda. Sighing heavily, I make my way down the hall toward the Game Room. “I’m on campus,” I reply in a calm, even tone. He doesn’t need to know my exact location.
“You promised you would participate in Praeda this year,” he grits out.
“Did I?” I say with a sarcastic lilt to my voice. It’s only been a few hours since I saw him.
“Devyn, what did I tell you? I need you to participate this year. Enough of these damn games.”
Need?That’s an interesting word choice.
Annoyance and something else—maybe panic—colors his reply. Fucking pathetic. My father used to be a man worth respecting. Worth fearing. His presence once instilled fear in others. These days, only my poor mother is afraid of him. Noteven my sister is scared of him anymore. The old man’s mental state has deteriorated, and everyone around him sees it.
His behavior has become erratic and desperate. I’m pretty sure his business dealings are illegal, and it’s just a matter of time before everything crumbles around him like a house of cards. My father has become more unhinged, and it’s about fucking time. As they say, karma is a bitch, and the abusive asshole will get what’s coming to him.
My main concern is making sure my mother survives the aftermath.
“Listen, you little shit—”
“How the fuck am I supposed to claim my Praeda if you are calling me with inane questions?” I growl into my multi-slate.
Father pauses before a pleased hum comes across the line. “You’re with your Praeda? Good, good,” he replies, sounding suddenly calmer, causing suspicion to weave its way into my brain. “It’s about time you held true to our traditions. Remy Lombardi is—”
“Right.” I grit my teeth as I cut him off. “You better let me get back to it, then.” I hang up before he can say another word. Why the hell does my father need me to participate in Praeda so badly? And why the fuck does he need me to choose Remy?
My thoughts stray back to Zaiah. My lovely, pretty Zaiah.
My only regret about what we just shared was the lack of light between us. Fuck. What would my cum look like painted all over his freckles? Although there’s something almost romantic about having my wicked way with him in the shadows. After he came so prettily before collapsing to his knees, I couldn’t think of anything but my animalistic need to fuck him into the ground. Then, the Game Room door opened, illuminating his face enough for me to notice his striking emerald eyes and vibrant red hair. That damn hair that always reminds me of fire and passion.
Cor Night’s barely begun, but it’s already shaping up to be one of my all-time favorites. The moment Zaiah realized it was me? Fucking delicious. How poetic is it that I’ve spent these past two years stalking my pretty little doll, and in turn, he’s been watching me? That mask was a favorite of mine, and I used to wear it when thinking of Zaiah. It’s been hidden away since I last saw Zaiah in person. I swear to light, when recognition flashed across his pretty features mixed with lust, I was done for. He knows my secret. Devyn Shio and Demon Hart are one and the same. There’s no turning back from that. Only the Black Harts know my secret.
I lied when I said he would be mine after I fucked him. No, it’s too late for that. I don’t need my cock inside of him to own him. Because if I’m being honest with myself, Zaiah Ruca was mine the moment I saw him.
Making my way back down the hall and toward the alcove, a wicked grin spreads across my face when I notice it’s empty. I pick up the gilded portrait and hang it back on its hook, smirking when the frame tilts to the side. A lovely reminder for me to spot every time I walk by. I tap the tiny device on the wall and turn it off before pocketing it. Checking my multi-slate, I smile when the video feed shows me what we just did. The night vision option fills in some details I missed in the dark, and I grow hard watching the lust all over Zaiah’s face.
He put up a good fight.
There’s something so fucking hot about the way he struggled. Maybe my little doll doesn’t want to be as helpless as he claims.
I chuckle darkly. Did I really expect mylittle fireto stay still?
What’s Praeda without a hunt?
Deciding to give my prey a head start, I lean against the stone wall and watch the video from start to finish, letting my cock fill for round two. Right as I finish spilling onto his face, I’mabout to turn the video off when something catches my eye; the moment my father called, and Zaiah focused on my caller ID.
Fear is etched clearly across his face as he stares at my multi-slate in horror before his gaze bounces up to my face. The sight fills me with rage. Not once during our interaction did that level of fear cross his face. Not until my father’s name flashed in front of his eyes.
