Page 28 of Hell Kissed
“Said he wanted to take care of something before we go,” Latham explains casually.
Another roar and a masculine scream cries through the night.
And once more I’m surprised by the smile these manic men bring me.
Chapter Ten
The Ice Mountains
Rhys
Torben leads us to the north, and after ten minutes of hiking through the snow, Aric jogs up to our side. I peer at him out of the corner of my eye.
His tawny hair is messy and disheveled. The jeans he wore earlier no longer have tattered tears from where Loki attacked him. He’s changed into clean black jeans and a black tee-shirt. I look at him closer, but I don’t see a single speck of blood anywhere on him.
A gurgling sound rumbles through his chest before a quiet noise escapes him… a burp.
“Excuse me,” he says with a half-hearted smile. His long, tattooed fingers swipe around his mouth like he can still remember the mess that was once there.
I stare at the psychopath.
He smiles at me, happy and jovial after the deathly screams I heard on the other side of the fence.
“The girl’s okay, by the way,” he tells me when he seems to realize I’m not sharing his keen amusement. “Walked her home myself,” he adds.
It does calm my nerves a little to hear that. Everyone else, all four of my apparent mates can go fuck themselves, but it is nice of him to reassure me about Bea.
“Thank you,” I whisper as we walk further up a hill.
A quietness surrounds us, but Aric stays by my side. I wish I could say it’s comforting to have him so concerned over my wellbeing, but really, I’m afraid he might lash out at a deadly fly and accidentally slit my throat with his raging animalistic strength.
Aric has two sides to him it seems. And both are concerning.
An hour slips by with me on edge as I follow the three men of Hell blindly past the pack of mountain wolves who are allies to my—I mean the Dark Moon’s—pack and even further into the unknown. I’ve never been this far from home before. I’ve also never seen snow falling in such big dollops of flakes like this.
A shiver races through me despite how hard I hold my arms around myself. Cold breath wafts around my face with every heave I release, and every slip of my boots against the several inches of slush makes me fight for balance.
Latham’s arm locks around mine suddenly, and he holds me up against the extreme slant. I look at him, and with a wave of his hand he extends a thick black coat to me. Meanwhile, the three of them remain in tee-shirts, completely unaffected by the weather around us.
His hand is warm against my hip. He takes my book bag and peacefully purring cat while he steadies me as I slip into the soft material. Long fingers catch at the hem, and he carefully zips me up, his hand sliding quickly up my stomach, my breasts, and collarbone in a single fluid movement.
“Thank you,” I breathe out in a puff of white frost.
His pretty ice-blue eyes hold mine. The simple weight of his alluring gaze sinks through me with a tremble of reckless emotions pressing at my chest. A spark of my magic stings the air, and I have to look away before I assault him with the strange magic I sometimes expel without even trying. Now is not the time to make someone feel good. My magic has helped me ease people’s anger toward me over the years, but it’s also been known to cause the occasional four hour erection from time to time. Although all three of these men are deadly beautiful, and I’m sure their cocks are just as nice to look at, I need to be careful what I reveal about myself to them.
I still can’t trust them.
I take a single step and my foot slides right out from under me. I stagger back but someone catches me… with two firm hands… right on my ass.
“Shit, sorry.” Aric drops his hold on my cold cheeks and my weight rushes into him instantly. His chest collides with my back and then he’s all around me. He tries to push me upright, but his palm slides against my back and cups the side of my boob awkwardly. His arms flail at my sides to find a platonic place on my body. “Fuck,” he hisses. “Motherfucking snow in the middle of fucking California.”
A big palm snatches my wrist and flings me forward, barely letting me find my footing as a glare is tossed down at the still cursing man behind me.
“Keep up. It’ll only get worse from here,” is all Torben grumbles out before walking away from me and continuing up the jagged, icy trail.
He’s guarded. I see it in his quietness and I see it in the space he keeps between not only me, but also the two men who should be his companions.
No. I won’t be getting any help from Torben if my life is on the line during this trip.
