Chapter 32

Iended up in a massive four-poster bed, bundled into red silk covers, with pillows propped around me and a cup of chamomile tea brewed from plants grown in Death's own garden. Misery had been unceremoniously pushed into bed beside me, Death giving him a stern look that clearly echoed a warning given when I wasn't present. He left us sitting in silence while he joined Tor, cleaning up the murder scene and trying to follow Nightmare's signature to her hideout.

"I haven't seen Death that angry in years," Misery muttered, his arms crossed over his loose white shirt, the cuffs stained in Darya's blood. Tor had painstakingly cleaned me with a warm cloth and careful hands, murmuring reassurances the whole time, but there it was on Miz's sleeve: proof of what I'd done.

"He should be angry," I said quietly, staring at the tiny flowers that flocked the silk covers. "I killed someone."

Miz scoffed. "He's not angry at you. He's angry at her."

He hadn't said her name since it made me throw up, I'd noticed. Probably because he didn't want me to soil the covers with vomit.

"She doesn't give you a choice," he added, hands flexing in and out of fists. "Don't blame yourself."

But I did blame myself. I killed Darya, my friend, and I didn't know to live with that knowledge. When I closed my eyes, I saw her empty face staring at me, her dead eyes accusing. My stomach cramped, and I swallowed a mouthful of tea like I could drown the sickness in botanicals.

I jumped when Miz reached across the scant distance between us to lay his hand on my stomach, and the nausea eased by half.

"Thanks," I said, scratchy, and then: "Why are you helping me? You hate me."

Misery sighed, and from the corner of my eye I watched him frown. "It's hard to hate you when you're so pitiful, Prick."

Wow, what a glowing compliment. I slid a glare at him.

"Do you deny being pitiful?"

"No," I muttered, "but you didn't have to point it out."

He laughed quietly, the sound every bit as silken and soft as his speech. I finished my tea and set the empty cup on the bedside table. All the furniture in this room matched the gothic castle—dark wood, elegantly turned arches, carved details, and foreboding tapestries. The drapes around the bed were heavy red velvet the same colour as the curtains at the window and the sheets Death had pulled up around my waist.

When would Tor and Death be back? I had the strange sense Misery wouldn't hurt me but it wasn't the safety I felt when the others were here. I needed comfort and reassurance and Miz wasn't offering it, so I slid my phone out of my pocket and pulled open my favourites folder on Youtube.

"What in damnation?" Misery hissed, leaning over my shoulder to stare at the screen.

I shot him a look and laughed at the bewilderment tugging his pale brows together, pinching his eyes. "You've never seen a duck before?"

"What is it doing?" he asked in a confused murmur.

"Drinking Dunkin' Donuts' strawberry water," I informed him. At his blank look, I explained," Dunkin is a fast food chain. A shop that sells food," I elaborated when his eyes went dull.

"I see," he murmured. "And you can watch Dunkin on your phone?"

"Yeah, there are millions of duck videos on here. And even more cute videos of other animals."

He went very still for a reason I couldn't pinpoint, and then looking at me with wide golden eyes, he asked, "Are there prairie dogs on your phone?"

"On Youtube? Yeah, I bet there are loads." I closed the video and searched for prairie dogs, darting glances at Misery who was very, very close all of a sudden. His face lit up when I opened a short and scrolled through a few others when it finished, and I swear I saw actual stars in his eyes.

"I'm getting Peach," he said, pulling back abruptly. "She'd love this."

"Um—" He jumped out of bed and raced from the room before I could say another word, and I blinked at the open door. "Who the hell's Peach?"

The video drew my attention again and I smiled, watching the groundhog steal a man's snacks. I glanced back up when movement came through the door, and then I shot upright in bed, my mouth falling open.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed, and then because that wasn't enough, "Holy adorable fucking shit."

"Language," Miz chided, carrying a real life prairie dog across the room. "You'll corrupt her."

I couldn't resist a smile. "I bet she's learned plenty of swearwords from Tor already."

Miz groaned. "Despite my best efforts." He settled in bed beside me, Peach cradled in his arms, adorably fuzzy, her eyes big and dark and luminous. Wow. I'd never been so close to one before, had only been this close to a cat or dog, actually.

"Can I…touch her?" I asked, my heart jumping when she turned at the sound of my voice. "Oh, hi. I'm Cat. It's very nice to meet you, Peach."

Miz groaned and whispered, "Torment was right."

"About what?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. "You can touch her; stroke her head, she likes that."

My stomach swooped as I reached out, very lightly stroking Peach's head, surprised at the texture of her fur. The smile on my face widened until my eyes curved. "She's so fucking cute. Oops, sorry for swearing."

The look on Miz's face was… different. Almost tender. He clearly loved Peach a lot.

"Let's show her some videos," I said, grabbing my phone again and scrolling until I found a good one.

Peach showed no interest at all until we got to a video of a prairie dog yipping, the high pitched sound drawing her attention.

"No biting," Miz warned her in a stern fatherly tone as she leaned closer. "Watch your fingers, Cat; she likes to nip them." With a wicked smirk, he added, "Tor's been bitten more times than I can count."

My heart faltered at that smirk, the familiarity of it—the mixture of malice and joy in it.

And as if it had stuck in my consciousness, waiting for me to finally notice it lingering there, something he said minutes ago came back to me.

It's hard to hate you when you're so pitiful, Prick.

Fury rose so swiftly that I saw red. Relief was there too, that the blue-eyed psycho who kissed me wasn't one of Nightmare's followers. But rage was the dominant emotion that took over me.

"Put Peach at the bottom of the bed," I told him, and I must have sounded serious because he immediately did as I said, setting Peach up on a cushion. The second Miz sat back against the pillows, I leapt onto him and wrapped my hands around his throat.

"You,"I hissed, the sound coming from deep in my throat. "You were the psycho who shoved me into that alcove and forced your tongue in my mouth."

"You drew my blood," he replied like that made it any better.

I squeezed viciously hard, and hoped his throat collapsed under my hands.

He'll regret ever crossing you. He'll learn never to fuck with you again, or he'll suffer for eternity and—

"Why do your eyes glaze over like that?" he asked, raspy and raw.

I squeezed his throat tighter, watching his pretty face turn pink. "None of your fucking business," I snapped, getting close, my teeth bared as an animal instinct drove me. Another animal instinct reared its ugly head when I felt his cock harden under me, pressing enticingly against my clit.

"Are you picturing all the things you'll do to me?" he asked, his voice weak but amusement and something dark, something thrilled, in his golden eyes. No fear. Fine. I needed to try harder.

"You'll die for this," I promised, breathing hard. My heart beat fast, exhilarated.

Miz flicked his wrist and I braced for pain, for magic to attack me, but it never touched me. It rushed past me, wrapped around Peach like a blanket, and whisked her away.

I should never have taken my eyes off Misery. The second I was distracted, he hooked his leg around mine, caged me in his arms, and flipped me onto my back on the bed.

"Bastard," I seethed, struggling, blinded by fury. I tore at his skin with my fingernails and tried to sink my teeth into his arm.

"If you're going to bite me anywhere," he said, looming over me, his hips trapping mine against the bed, "you should bite here, where everyone will see." He tilted his head, baring his neck, and my breathing came faster. I needed to rip his throat out, to make him bleed more, to drain his entire body until he was dead and staring up at me with the same unseeing eyes as Darya.

Darya. That name drained all the strength from my murderous haze and I flinched, my breath catching.

"Don't go all tame on me now, Prick," Misery taunted, a mean smile curling his mouth. "Where did all that darkness go?"

"Fuck you."

"Mm." His face came at me too quick to escape, and my skin crawled as he licked my face. "That is a very good idea."

"What?" I breathed, panic quickening my heart.

"Don't worry, Cat. I won't hurt you too badly."

Oh, god.

"But I don't mind if you hurt me," he went on, pressing his chest into mine, teeth raking down my jaw. "In fact, I insist on it. Put your pretty hands around my throat again."

I—what?

"Now,"he commanded, his voice nothing but cold steel. It sent a shiver through me, awakening parts of me that really should have stayed asleep.1

I was still furious that Miz was the asshole who backed me against the wall and forced his tongue into my mouth, so wrapping my hands around his throat was no chore. But I jumped when darkness rippled in the air, thin streams of it winding around my torso, my own throat, others catching my ankles and—oh god—spreading my legs for Miz to settle between them.

"I was so determined to hate you," he told me with a sneer, spreading his hand across my stomach, where a single flex of his fingers made my shirt vanish. "You took Death from me, and stole all his nights so I couldn't sleep. I do hate you. But then you had to call Peach cute, and be kind to her, and make me like you."

His face came close to mine, anger in his golden eyes but mostly drowned out by a furore of lust. "And you had to choke me, getting my cock all hard like a bad girl."

A flash of heat and warning went down my body, concentrated where his hand now rested on the curve of my bare stomach. I tried to let go of his throat to push him away but more tendrils of power snapped around my wrists, pressing my hands back to his neck, encouraging me to squeeze tighter.

"You just had to make me like you," he spat, like I'd done something evil, "and now I have no choice but to fuck that grief and guilt out of your eyes."

"You don't even want me," I said, a weak protest. The scent of him was dizzying, his closeness a new brand of torture. "This is insane, Miz."

In answer, his hand splayed lower, stroking from hip bone to hip bone and my jeans dissolved to nothing. I began to protest again because this was complete and utter madness, but he pulled my underwear to the side and drove his cock all the way inside me in a single thrust.

My eyes blew wide. I cried out loudly at the pressure, the stretch, the sudden and harsh fullness.

Oh god, when did he even lose his clothes? How was his cock hitting so deep, making me arch off the bed, frantic to escape him, frantic for him to move, to fuck me.

Pure insanity. I clenched around him in a wild flutter.

"Pick a safe word because I'm not holding back."

"I hate you," I seethed, squeezing his throat harder as I struggled to adjust to him inside me.

"Works for me," he said with a shrug and drove the last inch into me, cool hands coming to settle on my thighs to push me wider for him. "Look at you," he laughed, his pretty face twisted with wickedness, "taking my cock all the way like a little slut. This cunt was made for me, wasn't it?"

"No," I moaned, unable to trap the sound of pleasure. Oh shit, oh god. I wanted to say it was all discomfort and too deep and god, stop but that would be a lie. I dug my fingernails into his throat, panting as he inflicted a brutal pace on my pussy. My eyes slammed shut. They might have crossed at the sudden onslaught of sensation.

"No?" Miz asked, the shadow encircling my throat tightening a fraction. "Then why is your pussy squeezing me like it can't get enough? Why have you soaked my cock and my balls? Why does every word out of my mouth make you twitch and gasp? Hm? Why is that?"

"You're a piece of shit," I snarled, straining against him, my whole body hot and sensitive. I wanted his hands everywhere. Wanted to mutilate him until he begged me to spare him.

"I know," he cooed, a tendril of darkness stroking my cheek with faux gentleness. He made me cry out when he slammed his hips into mine, ruthless and rough—once, twice, three times. "But you're gonna come anyway, aren't you, Prick?"

"No," I scoffed.

He stilled on the next thrust and rotated his hips, over and over. I felt like my skeleton would fly out of my body. I tensed, gasping. The shadow tightened around my throat until I whimpered, the world hazy and spinning. I'd never tried this before, had never anticipated that it would blur out everything except the warm body on top of me, the cock grinding against all my weak spots until it was unbearable.

"There you go," Miz said when I shattered, my eyes crossing at the intense pleasure. "Good little whore. I knew this cunt would come for me, because you love this, don't you? You love getting your pussy railed by a man you can't stand. You love getting the life fucked out of you by a man you hate."

His lips brushed my cheek as I squirmed, the aftershocks cruel. "Don't worry, Cat, I love the way you hate me. Makes it even hotter when you can't help but come." His thumb stroked my clit, and I gasped. "Over and fucking over."

"No," I protested, my eyes flashing open in panic.

Misery's lips covered mine. The magic wrapped around my wrists pulled them from his throat, and then my hands were pinned to the bed above me. Every atom in my body came alive, shivering and gasping for more.

"I know you're a dirty slut, Cat. I know you love being choked, and tied down, and fucked so roughly you can't take it anymore. Death thinks you're a good girl, but you're not, are you? You're my needy slut, my pretty whore, my fucking bad girl."

I thrashed, aching and close to a second orgasm, my whole body alive with an awful kind of buzz. I refused to beg, refused to gasp his name, but it clung to the tip of my tongue and burned there.

"So you're going to come over and over, until you've soaked the bed and I'm happy there's not a single thought left in that wicked brain of yours, not a single speck of grief or guilt." The darkness tightened around my wrists, until I was sure it would leave marks.

"Oh god," I breathed when his hand left my thigh and plunged into a shadow, pulling out a magic wand vibrator. "No, no, no."

I was too sensitive. I couldn't take that. I knew the vibrations would be unbearable, un—

I screamed when he set it on the highest setting and pressed it to my swollen clit. My eyes rolled all the way back. I came so hard I blacked out for a few seconds and when I came back, Miz was fucking me again, a cruel grin on his face. His cock hit so fucking deep, it was unreal.

"Bastard," I panted, my body on fire, legs trembling with the ripples of vibrations that had not stopped.

His grin turned lopsided. So fucking pretty. A beautiful poison. "I thought you wanted to be dominated, Cat? You should be thanking me."

"Ah!" I squirmed, trying to escape the deep stab of stimulation through my clit.

He pressed it harder, finding an angle that made me scream.2 "Say it. Say thank you."

I whined, my breathing wrecked, traitorous pleas escaping with each breath.

He thrust his cock into me roughly, deeply, a grunt in his throat with each thrust. "Say it. Fucking say it."

"Thank you!" I cried, so loudly my voice echoed off the high ceiling.

"Beautiful," he laughed, almost delirious. "What a good slut, thanking her god."

Not mine. Oh, god, not mine. My eyes slammed shut when he adjusted the wand's angle, and then I was coming again, warmth flooding me in a rush, making my mouth hang open. I lost control of what sounds escaped, what words I spoke. His grunts rose in volume, hips frantic and wild, his cock filling me so deep that it dragged my orgasm into another.

I was so wrecked, I barely noticed the ropes of dark magic leaving my body, only truly conscious that the wand left when my legs stopped shaking. Thank fuck. Oh, thank fuck it was over.

But on the flipside, I felt so. Fucking. Good.

Miz had ripped every bit of tension out of me until I was as limp as a ragdoll. I didn't even bother to open my eyes when he rolled onto his back and arranged me splayed over him, his chest rising and falling fast. I really, truly hated him. I did. But fuck. He'd just brought five different fantasies to life, and I didn't know how he could have possibly known unless—

Death told him. I stifled a groan. When he overheard me talking to Honey, he must have told Miz and Tor everything I said. Bastard. I was angry, but that emotion felt very far away, my mind floaty and my body extremely satisfied. The warmth of Misery under me satisfied my soul's need for companionship, too. I had everything I needed right here, with a man I hated.

He expelled a long breath, his face moving against the side of my head. Nuzzling me, I realised after a minute. As if Misery could ever be gentle.

"Well," a sweet, rich voice said, startling me but not enough that I bothered to open my eyes. Death was back. "This is unexpected."

"Peach likes her," Miz said softly.

"Hm."

I made a soft noise of complaint when hands moved me on top of Miz, spreading my legs again, presumably Misery's hands but I wasn't sure. I was comfy and warm and held close, so I didn't much care.

"I filled her up for you, see."

Death groaned.

I tried to open my eyes to see them both but I was so tired, my eyelids so heavy.

"Just don't make her come again," Miz murmured, his hand flexing on my bare back. "I don't think she can take another."

Alarm should have pulsed through me but I was too floaty for that. A cool tongue swiped over my pussy and I made a quiet sound of surprise, but it felt nice. Soft, gentle, swirling over me slowly enough to not arouse me again. The moan Death let out threatened to wake up my body again, but the warm hands caressing the backs of my thighs lulled me to calm again.

"Fuck, the taste of you both together…" Death groaned, curling his tongue inside me. Oh. He was—eating Miz's cum from my pussy. Well, that was… well.

When he was done, Death kissed my aching pussy, then my clit, and then rose up the bed and slung his arm across my back, holding us both.

"Sleep, Cat," he murmured, as if I wasn't already halfway there. "We'll all stay with you."