Page 55 of Insurrection
I had been so engrossed with these revelations in my mind that I didn't notice the way the Dark Elf had subtly moved closer to me, still yanking on his hard dick, which I had purposefully kept my gaze from.
I should have known that my powers would wear off at some point if I wasn't constantly using them on him. Devil, I was such a disgrace of a hybrid, not knowing how to use both sides of my powers.
When his large hand wrapped around my throat and he walked me back to the closest wall, slamming me into it, my throat produced a noise that sounded like a choked squeak toy. His hand was so tight around my windpipe that I couldn't breathe. His other hand grabbed my wrist and banged it against the wall painfully. I felt something snap and had no choice but to let the knife drop to the floor.
I couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't get his hand off my throat.
A deep growl was the only warning either of us had before the Dark Elf was being torn off me and flung against the opposite wall of the room. His head met it with a sickening crunch, and he fell to the ground, crumpled and unmoving.
Oh thank fuck…oh shit.
In front of me stood a massive Hellhound with large paws covered in orange flames. He had short black hair that shockingly looked very sleek and soft. His large frame was full of muscle, which was now tense and coiled to strike again. I couldn't see his eyes, as he was facing towards the assassin, but I knew this was Damien's Hellhound.
The Hellhound that everyone had been openly petrified of in conversation, judging from their words and the looks on their faces whenever he came up.
"Damien," I tried to say, but my windpipe felt bruised from the crushing grip that had been holding it moments ago. There would be bruises for sure.
The Dark Elf roused from his temporary unconsciousness, and that was all it took for Damien to lunge for the man's throat. A scream of pain began, then I heard a crunch and the scream was silenced as Damien's head whipped side to side twice, ripping the man's throat.
Out of his body and onto my floor.
The Dark Elf's eyes had focused on me in his moment of death, and a chill ran through me at the lifeless gaze now.
Blood dripped from Damien's elongated teeth as his lip curled back, and he growled once more at the assassin before turning to look at me fully. His orange eyes burned brightly, dancing with the hellfire within them. Before my eyes, he turned from a vicious beast into a practical lap dog as he padded over to me, sitting in front of me and whining as he looked up at me.
I didn't know how to react. Was I allowed to pet him? Would that be rude? Why was that my first thought? Because he looked soft. Holy hell. I had no idea how to handle what had just happened.
His wet snout nudged my hand as he let out a low whine again, and I took that as permission. Running my hand through his black hair, I let myself feel something other than determination to not die.
I was safe.
The thought opened the floodgate of shock, and tears rolled down my cheeks. I bit my bottom lip, trying to keep myself from sobbing, and I sank to the floor, throwing my arms around the Hellhound's neck. The sense of security was my undoing.
What had I been thinking, coming back here alone after being repeatedly warned about how lethal that decision could be? How risky my existence at the Summit was in the first place.
After a few minutes of full-on snot crying on my Hellhound, my cries faded into sniffles, and he took a few steps back from me, causing my arms to fall to my side. Running my hand across my nose to wipe it, I struggled to understand what he was trying to tell me.
Hitting my bare feet with his nose, he let out a little woof, startling me at the deep baritone. I jolted, and he whined at the movement and licked my toes, tickling me this time. He jerked his head towards the door, and I surmised that he wanted me to get up and leave the room.
Taking a deep breath, I stood up and walked towards the sitting room, doing my best to not look at the elf with his throat torn out next to the door. My Hellhound walked at my side, keeping his head under my hand, clearly knowing I found comfort in his touch.
He herded me towards the bathroom, and I turned the light on. His head jerked towards the glass-walled walk-in shower in the back corner of the room, behind the free-standing tub.
Taking a few steps in that direction, I jumped slightly as I heard the door close behind me. Turning around, I saw that he had nudged the door closed before trotting over to me once more. Guiding me towards the shower, he whined at the entrance and turned around, giving me his back as he sat like a sentry, protecting me.
Despite my eyes stinging from crying, I couldn’t help but smile just a little at his actions.
My heart swelled, and I found that I truly did feel comfortable enough to undress and shower, knowing he would be watching over me. Something within me trusted him on a soul-deep level. He would defend me should anyone else come for me, and he wouldn't encroach on my privacy at this moment.
Thankfully, when my wings had come out, it had torn my dress in the back, making it easy to shimmy out of now. It pooled on the floor, and I quickly stripped out of my bra and panties, padding the remaining distance to the shower handles as I glamoured my wings again. They were too large to fit in here. Turning the hot water all the way up, I patiently waited for it to warm up, allowing the shock of the cool water to calm me as I did.
I stood under the hot water, basking in the scorching temperature. Willing my body to unwind and relax, I grabbed some of the vanilla body wash from the ledge in the corner, along with the cream loofah, and lathered it up. Working it into my skin, I scrubbed away until I felt like a snake that had shed its skin.
Unfortunately, I could still feel the man's hand around my throat as I had completely short-circuited, unable to formulate a thought at the end to save myself.
As I rinsed the soap from my body and set the loofah aside, I raised a shaking hand to my throat, lightly skimming my fingers along it. Wincing at the pain, I knew this was going to leave a large, ugly bruise in its wake.
One that everyone would see tomorrow at the vote.
