Page 35 of Hellish Fae
Boots storm across wood in a pounding sound, and I feel the breeze against my face. A big shadow swoops over us, signaling Ryke’s departure as well.
And then, we’re alone.
For several tense moments, all I hear is his thundering heartbeat and ragged breaths. His body shudders with tension from time to time as if he’s fighting off a pain deep inside himself, but he holds me in a sweet caress. His palms are so low on my back his fingers skim against my ass, but I never mention it.
I just let him hold me. I let him use me the way he let me use him. That’s what we have together: a terrible relationship that only exists when one of us benefits from the other.
It’s a toxic thing when I think about it, but it doesn’t feel toxic. It feels good to know I’m helping him. Even if I know he’ll hate me again when this is all over.
What if it didn’t have to be that way, though?
I take a deep breath and reach inside myself to prepare to do something I never do. Something that repulses me to even think about.
My gag reflex is already kicking up just imagining it.
“I’m—I’m sorry,” I say before I can dry heave against his perfect chest. “I’m sorry for putting you in the middle of my strange Krave relationship.”
His fingers dig into my skin as he moves his hand higher up to the small of my back.
“Why would you choose him as your mate, knowing your kind hates demons?”
It takes me a second to understand what he means.
“I didn’t choose him, Damien. Your soul chooses your mate. Trust me, if I had a choice in the matter, I wouldn’t choose someone who manipulated his way into becoming my friend, and then reported back my every word to my father.”
His thick lashes open slowly, and he studies me.
“Oh,” is all he says.
“Fated mates just happen. It’s something deep inside that your heart understands even if your brain never fucking does.”
“That’s very rare for seraphs.”
My brow furrows, and I can’t help but push my fingers through his messy golden blond hair. I hate the way my stomach is twisting hard right now as I study his handsome face.
“Demons have them,” I whisper in a voice tinged with sadness.
Someday he’ll have a mate. And I’ll be a jealous bitch, because Damien’s one of the good ones. He’s kind and honest.
When he doesn’t despise me entirely, that is.
And shit, the lines of his chest are so hard my tongue could dive in and spend hours licking every single hard part of him.
My throat clears as I shift against him, and I can physically feel Catherine roll her eyes at me.
I try to wash the dirtiness from my mind, but it’s like a stain that will forever tarnish anything innocent that might try to break into my thoughts.
But I do try.
“I can’t believe you actually admitted that I feel good,” I purr, my fingers skimming down the strong angle of his jaw.
A smirk tilts just near my thumb, and he closes his eyes once more like he’s too tired to talk.
But he does.
“You’re a pain in my ass ninety percent of the time. It’s only fair that I get some relief ten percent of the time.”
Get. Some. Relief.
