Page 92 of Hell Fae King
Well, at least this isn’t about rejection, then,I thought, some foreign part of me momentarily relieved. But I swallowed that temporary reprieve because we still had a big fucking problem.
“We need to drown her in power,” I decided, voicing the solution as it formed in my mind. We didn’t have time to think, only act. “And we need to distract her—to give her something else to focus on—so she can’t just shove it all back into my realm.”
Then, once she woke up enough, I’d take control and show her how a king tames a queen.
Azazel’s hand still hovered over her chest as he asked, “What kind of distraction?”
“Anything that takes her mind off the energy coursing through her,” I told him. “She’s hyper-fixated on redirecting the power right now, even while unconscious. If we can shift her attention to something else, I should be able to help ground her.”
My Commander nodded, then looked at Ajax. “Bite her.”
The Warden arched a brow. “You want me to feed on her while she’s weak?”
“I want you to make her body come alive while Typhos, Melek, and I flood her with power,” Azazel said, taking charge.
Ajax gave him a skeptical look. “You think that’ll be enough?”
“After what I experienced back there in that dungeon?” Azazel’s gaze lit up with twin flames of golden lust. “Yes. Yes, I fucking do.”
In the chaos, I hadn’t realized what had transpired between the two of them until now—they’d deepened their connection. “Ajax bit you.”
“Twice,” Azazel said without looking at me. “Now bite Cami, Ajax.” He ripped her tiny tank top clean off, exposing her bra—a bra that went up in flames in the next second as he seared it right off of her. “Arouse her. Make her pant. Drive her so fucking wild she can’t think about anything other than our cocks being inside her.”
Ajax was already moving before Azazel finished, his palm landing on one tit as his mouth sealed over the other. Azazel burned off the rest of her clothes, leaving her naked, a sight I would have enjoyed if she didn’t resemble a fucking corpse.
Godsdamn it, Camillia, I thought at her, furious that she was sacrificing herself. But a part of me was also fucking aroused, which was really discombobulating.
I shouldn’t want to punish her. Not like this. Not right now.
And yet, all I wanted to do was pull her over my knee and redden her pale ass until she screamed.
I grabbed her throat, my thumb pressing against her waning pulse. Melek joined me, kneeling on the bed by her head and threading his fingers through her hair. Then he leaned down and blew air into her mouth.
Air laced with power.
I felt the heat of it on my palm as I added my own brand of energy to his efforts.
Then Azazel placed his lips to Camillia’s inner thigh with a low snarl that echoed through the bedroom suite. Energy hummed all around him, the Phoenix inside him building a surge that would burn us all. But I didn’t fucking care so long as it overwhelmed the female lying lifeless in my bed.
“On my count,” Azazel ground out, parting Camillia’s legs to rest between them. His mouth shifted higher to the apex between her thighs, his touch hovering over her sweet little clit. A vision of him biting her there assaulted my mind, the desire to hear her scream an intrinsic need that had power rippling through me.
She’d deserve the sting.
Little temptress, I thought.You’re hurting your mates by playing the role of a sacrificial lamb. They’d better make you pay for that, Camillia. But if they don’t, I sure as fuck will.
Not that she could hear my threat.
We weren’t bonded.
A fact that had me feeling a little out of sorts as I watched her mates combine their powers to revive her. I would be able to help as their Hell Fae King, but I could help so much more if I were Camillia’s mate.
My jaw tensed.That’s not going to happen. Even if she’s the perfect queen.
And not because I didn’t want to bond her, but because she definitely didn’t want to bond me. She didn’t trust me or like me, something her body and soul had made apparent by rejecting my rejuvenating essence.
Unless… unless she’s only rejecting me because she can’t control it.
I shook my head, my musings devolving into a spiral of rhetorical nonsense.
