Page 8 of Hellish Fae
We all have our reasons. Mine just had life altering consequences.
“Wait till you see the fae.” There’s a small smile lining his full lips, and he’s still talking in that calming gravelly voice he has.
I’m addicted to the sound of his words, but more so, I want to know how he feels about fae. Because I know how fae feel about him and his kind. They’re beneath us. Literally, they should be beneath us. Not here in our realm.
I don’t agree with that entirely. They have a demon realm, but if the fae can come and go in the demon realm, the human realm, and our own realm, why can the others not do the same? Centuries ago they could only leave their realm if they were called upon. If they were summoned then they could finally leave their hellhole.
It’s not like that anymore. But I can’t say it’s any better for them.
“What about the fae?” I finally ask him.
Faint lines crease around his amber eyes. His gaze is like warm honey, and I’m all too aware of how handsome my captor is.
Have you ever considered seeing a therapist?Catherine chimes.
My eyes roll, and Damien gives me a confused look. I mask my weirdness with a tense smile. It doesn’t seem to change the perplexed thoughts he’s clearly having about me.
“The fae are... enchanting.”
“Conniving. You mean conniving,” I correct.
His laughter rumbles out of him in a delicious sound that I want to taste.
Ther-a-pist,Catherine the Cunt enunciates.
“I don’t know how you know that, but yes. They’re conniving. They like promises, and they force those promises.”
“You were stupid enough to make an agreement with a fae, huh?” I bend the fingers of my hand that’s smooshed between my body and his. It arches at an awkward angle to skim up and down the hard, cracked lines of his abdomen.
His dark eyes glance down to where I’m liberally touching him, but he doesn’t comment on it. Every step he takes through the twisting forest is an easy, fluid move. I’m not jostled as we travel, and when he jumps and leaps, he holds me closer in the sweetest way.
I never agreed with my father and his adamant hate. Not all demons are monsters.
Damien isn’t bad.
He hasn’t shifted fully, though . . .
“Well, a promise is a promise,” he says. “And it’s a good deal. I get something out of the agreement.”
My eyebrow lifts at that.
Fae don’t give anything for nothing. And whatever they’re getting in return, it’s nothing good, I’m sure.
“Stop talking,” Remorseless growls, storming by us. He holds back a branch for his friend, but gives me a glare as he searches my face.
If I could flip him off right now, I would.
Instead, I keep stroking my fingers along his friend’s chest, and that seems to be just as offensive to him. To be a real pain in his ass, I lean my head against the bronze god-like man’s chest, and I hear his throat clear, his big arms tensing around me.
Guilt drops through me as I realize how he must feel. I stop immediately. My hand drops, and I pull away as Zav storms off.
Damien’s kind dark gaze meets mine.
“Sorry,” I whisper in the smallest voice.
I’m his prisoner, bound in his arms in nothing more than a thin shirt and panties, and I’m the one apologizing to him. It’s weird, I know. But I remember the way men used to paw at me. I remember the way they used me to get closer to my father or even my brother. And I know how fae treat demons like they’re an object at every chance they get.
I hate it.
