Page 13 of Hellish Fae
Excuse me?
Bratty little girl? I’m twenty-three fucking years old! And, furthermore, I’ve found some of Corva’s pants to wear, so I’m no longer showing my ass, if everyone could please take notice!
I bite my tongue hard and keep listening from beneath the array of big green leaves.
“She’s had us searching for this girl every Friday for years without telling us she isn’t a fallen but a fae. Corva isn’t an idiot set out for sisterly bonding. She’s planning something.” The large man with the scars says in a hushed tone.
“It doesn’t matter. Nothing Corva does matters for us. She’ll figure something out to help Damien permanently, and then we’ll leave.”
At that, the demon man cocks a dark brow at Zaviar. His odd bladed weapons along the back of his forearms scrap lightly against his skin as his arms cross over his chest.
“I’ve been here a long time. I’m happy to stay. I’m happy to be Corva’s little bitch boy in exchange for what she gives me. Fae tolerate demons. But not the ones like me. Men like me, we’d be sent right to the demon land without hesitation. And I’m not fucking going to the Torch. So, make your little plans all you like, but that’s between you two. It’s always been you two brothers and me. Not us.”
He’s right. He’s straightforward and doesn’t dance around topics it seems. A little bit brutish but painfully honest. His bluntness makes sadness slide through my stomach. It’s hard to hear the truth spoken out loud sometimes.
The three of them stand there, quietness falling across them.
I should leave.
Before they shed anymore secrets about themselves.
I twist quickly. My feet tangle around literally my own stupidity, and that cool wind I was cherishing so damn much does nothing to catch me as I fall. My wings splay out but land against the sleek netting. My fingers reach for one of the thin threads, but I can’t get a grip.
Over and over and over again, I roll across the beautiful delicate net. Until my shoulder jars into wood. And I find I’ve hit the center platform.
My eyes open, and I stare up at three glaring fallen.
They definitely look like demons from this angle.
Zaviar lowers himself, his strong thighs supporting his arms as he tilts his head this way and that like I’m a fly caught in his deadly web. His sharp jawline tightens and I can feel his cruelty before he even opens his big mouth.
“Were you spying on us, Little Crow?”
That fucking name.
“No,” I say, my breath rushing. “I just . . . thought this place looked like fun and wanted to roll on over to see what the cool kids were gossiping about.” My hands fold over my stomach like I’m totally relaxed and not at all awkward in this strange situation.
Damien’s full lips twitch at the corner, and I love the way his eyes are shining. He doesn’t look like a tragic angel right now.
He looks like a sinful demon about to devour his prey. He almost reminds me of his brother for once.
“Anyway, I’ll just,” I push myself up and try to stand, but I can’t find my balance in this death trap of a net. My knees give out. I push myself up. My hand flies right between a few invisible threads, and I lie there face-down, awkwardly. “What is this space, anyway?” I nearly shriek with frustration.
Big hands grip my hips from behind. As I’m heaving and thrashing in the netting, I’m pulled out. His body holds mine.
“It’s our bed, Pretty Crow,” Damien whispers into my ear. His big arms hold me against his chest to stop me from face-planting once again.
My body thrums to life. I’m suddenly aware of how warm his smooth skin is against mine, how every breath of his heats my flesh, how every pounding beat of his heart pulses into me and spirals right down to my clit.
Annnd that’s enough getting to know my captors turned roommates.
I kick off from the wooden platform he’s sitting on and roll away from him until my back hits solid flooring. I lie there pathetically at their feet, before Zav’s glaring gaze and the demon’s interested look.
The soft white feathers of Zaviar’s wings and the stark leather of the other man’s are opposite in appearance, and yet, they don’t seem that different.
“What’s your name?” I finally ask the big one.
The man smiles slowly. It’s an eerie but charming look that has me questioning my sanity.
