Page 134 of Wings of Lies
The redhead smirked. “No, they won’t.” He leaned in and unzipped my jacket, desire overcoming him as he stared at my exposed nipples peeking through my holey shirt. I reared back and slammed my forehead into his nose.
“Damn it!” he seethed, spraying the blood that dripped into his bared teeth. “You know what’s worse than being fucked when you don’t want it?” He yanked on the laces of his pants and pulled them down. His cock sprung out, surrounded by red curling hair. “Being fucked when your ribs are broken.”
My breathing turned uneven. This couldn’t happen. I gazed over at Oliver, desperately seeking help. Though his chest still rose, he wasn’t conscious.
“Help me!” I screamed, whimpering as I scooted away from his naked thighs, hoping the villagers would hear me.
“Michael won’t mind if you’re a little used.” He grabbed onto my chains and yanked me back. Pain tore into my ribs as I tried to kick out of his hold.
“Help! Someone please help me!”
He slid his sweat-slick thighs along my leathers until he straddled my lower legs, pinning me. I swung at his bloody nose, connecting. His head whipped to the side, and he spit a big glob of blood out of his mouth.
“I guess you don’t have to be conscious,” he said, slamming his fist into my jaw. My head snapped to the side. The force of it stole my gaze for a moment. I came to when he finished unfastening my pants. He pulled them down, exposing me. I sobbed, screamed, and squirmed fighting against the agonizing pain in my sides. But it was useless.
He chuckled. “I’m going to enjoy this.”
A bright light flashed right before his cock pressed against me, and warmth splashed across my skin.
The bounty hunter’s head flopped to the ground, detached. Blood spurted onto my chest from his tipping, lifeless body, and a black boot kicked it before it fell on top of me.
And I saw him. My savior and damnation, standing there, seething with unrestrained fury.
Chapter
Thirty-One
Aspen.
Relief washed over me like a tidal wave, and tears streamed down my cheeks as he draped his cloak over my body.
I cried for the close call, for my helplessness. I cried for Aspen’s safety, though I should have been fleeing from him. I cried for myself, for what my mom did, and for all the pain I endured in Elora. Every bit of it.
Aspen sank to his knees, wordlessly brushing my hair from my face and tears from my cheeks. Flames engulfed his eyes, and his jaw muscle pounded with lingering fury. Minutes passed, yet he remained by my side, soothing me with his tingly touch while I grieved. Even after I cried myself out, he continued to comfort me, like he needed it. Like he needed the reassurance that I was safe and here. When the flames finally dimmed in his eyes, I worked up the courage to speak.
“Aspen?” I rasped.
“Yes, sweetheart?” he whispered, brushing his knuckles down my face.
That nickname. Damn, I loved that nickname and shouldn’t.
“Can I ask for a sliver?” I almost started crying again, but I held the ache back.
“If I could, I’d give you the moon,” he responded, reverently taking in every inch of my face.
“Back on Earth. Was any of it real?” My voice was small and broken, scared of the truth.
“Yes, Lucille. Every second.”
I swallowed and nodded. “And Elora?”
He bowed his head, and I sensed his pain flickering along with the red rune under his chin. “Some.”
“What changed?”
“Everything.”
“Was it because I tried to follow you?” It was ironic how I desired to go to Elora when I was on Earth, and now all I wanted to do was leave.
