Page 64 of Demons In My Head: Exposing the Exiled
But I couldn't move. Misha's energy wrapped around me like a physical caress, making my skin tingle and my heart race. The battle high was rolling off him in waves so strong I could practically taste it—metallic and electric, like blood and lightning.
"Misha," I breathed his name, and his nostrils flared. The orange in his eyes spread, consuming the whites until they were purely demonic. A growl rumbled from his chest, so deep I felt it in my bones.
"You left." His voice was gravel and thunder, the accusation heavy in those two words. He took a step forward, and despite myself, I took one back. It didn't escape me that his first words to me were about me leaving, not about me being a spy or betraying them.
"I had to." My voice shook. Damn it. I cleared my throat and tried again, "Rhodes—"
"Shut up." Another step forward. Another step back. My spine hit something solid—Ashland. His hands came to rest on my shoulders, holding me in place.Traitor.
Misha's eyes flicked to Ashland, some silent communication passing between them. Whatever it was, it made Misha's lips curl into a predatory smile that had my knees weakening.
"You're not running this time, little rabbit." He stalked closer, each step deliberate and measured like he was savoring the anticipation of reaching me. "No more games."
"I wasn't playing games," I protested, but even I could hear how breathless I sounded. Gods, he was magnificent like this—covered in the evidence of battle, power radiating from him in waves that made my magic dance under my skin.
He laughed, the sound dark and promising. "No? I guess we have different definitions of the word, then."
Guilt stabbed through me. "Rhodes said—"
"I don't give a fuck what Rhodes said." Misha was right in front of me now, close enough that I had to crane my neck to maintain eye contact. "You should have talked to us, talked tome. You wereours."
The words took the air from my lungs.Were ours.Was it too late? Ashland's fingers tightened on my shoulders.
"Still is," Talon piped up from somewhere to my left. "Aren't you, Bun-bun?"
Before I could answer, Misha's hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my throat. Not squeezing, just... holding. Claiming. His thumb stroked over my pulse point, and I knew he could feel how fast my heart was racing.
"Answer him," Misha commanded, his voice pitched low enough that only those of us in this intimate circle could hear. "Are you still ours, Palmer?"
I swallowed hard against his palm. "I never stopped being yours," I whispered, the truth burning in my chest. "Even when I left. Even when I thought I'd never see you again. From the moment I stepped foot in Haunt, I was always going to be yours."
A sound somewhere between a growl and a purr rumbled from Misha's chest. His fingers flexed against my throat once before sliding up to cup my jaw. "Good girl," he murmured, and then his blood-stained lips crashed down onto mine.
The kiss tasted like victory and violence, and I surrendered to it completely. Because he was right—I was theirs. All of theirs.
Misha broke the kiss when Rhodes' voice cut through our moment. "She's lying. All of you are idiots for trusting her again."
I jerked back, hurt slicing through me at Rhodes' words. "I'm not—"
"Shut the fuck up." Felix's quiet command sliced through the tension. "All of you."
I turned to look at him, shocked by the steel in his voice. His blue eyes were hard, calculating as they swept over our group.
"Follow me," he ordered, already turning away. "Now. I need a fucking shower before anything else gets discussed, or I’m going to lose my shit."
No one moved for a heartbeat, then Ashland pushed me forward. "Walk."
We followed Felix through the castle grounds, past the evidence of the battle we'd just fought. Bodies littered the ground—some dead, some just unconscious from the mind control antidote. The smell of blood and magic hung thick in the air.
I recognized where we were heading before we got there. Misha's old cabin, I recognized it from Jasper’s memories. Theplace where he'd lived before joining The Exiled, back when he was just the castle's blacksmith.
"Really?" Misha rumbled behind me. "Here?"
"Yes, here," Felix replied, not bothering to look back. "It's private, and we all have history here."
My heart clenched at that. They had history here. I was the outsider, the interloper who'd wormed my way into their lives only to run away. Even if I had what I thought was a good reason.
Felix kicked the door open, dust billowing up from the impact. The cabin was exactly as I pictured—sparse, utilitarian, with a massive forge taking up most of the space.
