Page 2 of Fire Kissed
I spent so much time wanting to be here, just for them to lock me away the same way they did Latham. The same way they did Aric.
The darkness of those memories claws to the front of my mind just as Torben’s palm slides up the inside of my thigh, parting my thin silver gown like glistening water. He straddles his knees over the lower part of one of my legs, forcing me to open even more. Hot, delicious breath washes over sensitive skin along wide-spread thighs.
My sex throbs.
But my rage speaks louder.
With my lip curling back at the man I once thought to be more beautiful than the gods themselves, I bring my foot up fast.
And slam my shin right to his balls.
Serpan’s crawling, cackling laughter is heard even over several gasps, a queenly slap against my cheek, and the intensely satisfying stream of curse words from the man now lying in the fetal position at my feet.
And that’s the fucking show, folks. Enjoy the gala. Tip your elves. Have a magical night.
Toxic
Rhys
Nightly imprisonmentunder Torben’s bed is a punishment I’ll take again and again over the option of seeing that man touch my mother. I sat through years of Kyvain’s harassment. I think I could sit through watching the dark torment in Torben’s eyes as he...
I shudder at the thought of it.
He kicks off his boots at the side of the smooth, granite door. The castle isn’t hot and blazing as I thought it would be in this realm. It’s cold and dank. Every inch is like it’s carved right from the rock of the earth itself.
As for the realm’s physical location, I have no idea. Nor do I give one single care. But everything is intensely controlled by Hela here. Just like the rules within the realm of the living, the rules here are aparant: she prevents peoples magic—like mine—and she enhances peoples magic—like Serpans.
Which only hurts my wolf locked away inside of me even more.
I narrow my eyes on Torben, but just like the night before and the night before that, he doesn’t have the nerve to look at me peering out from the cage I’m hunched in. At first, I didn’t look his way either. I was stunned.
How could he? How could he lie about bringing me here to finally meet my mother? How could he pretend to be my friend? How fucking dare he pretend to care about me?
“Does it feel good?” I grind out, watching him change on the far side of the room at his polished, black wardrobe.
He drops his jeans and gives me the full view of his taut ass, but other than that, he completely ignores me like I’m nothing more than a dog whining for attention.
“I said do you like it? Do you,” my molars clench at the thought of his hand roaming up my thighs, “do you get off on making me care about you as much as you get off on touching me?”
“Enough,” he growls out so violently, I actually flinch. “Don’t.” In a flash of a second, he’s storming toward me. He drops down to his knees in nothing more than a thin pair of clean, dark boxers. “Don’t turn into them. Don’t let them take the light inside you, Princess. That’s what she wants. You’re not like this. Just... don’t.” The weight of his heavy breath fans against my lips, our glares battling silently for a single moment.
His persistent demeanor used to be so attractive to me. His confident focus on what he wanted and where he was going was sexy in a way.
I hate that it still flutters my heart when he speaks like that.
I hate him.
“Don’t pretend you’re not one of them, Torben. If anyone’s taking the light inside of me, it’s fucking you.” The words hiss out, snapping with so much anger, it shakes through my arms and my fists held in my lap.
Golden, messy locks shake around his strong features as he rejects my accusation.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know three men rescued me from a man who abused me every day and promised much, much worse in the future. And now you’re standing before me like you’re any better than Kyvain Morganson.”
“I—” His hands lift to explain, but no words come to aide him.
“Exactly,” I finish for him.
