Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

RELIC

I didn’t fucking move; I was barely fucking breathing because I didn’t want her to wake up. Not yet. As soon as she woke, she’d shove me away and put distance between us, and I needed this. I needed her close in a way that made me feel fucking feral.

But that wasn’t the only reason I didn’t want her to wake up. She’d had a nightmare not long after she fell asleep, and she’d been restless on and off for most of the night. She’d finally stilled in the early hours of the morning. Fern needed rest.

My precious little female, she was fucking terrified of something or someone, even more than she’d been of me. She’d tried to drug me, then claim my soul for protection, for fuck’s sake. And I’d been standing at her door, growling and rattling the door handle like the big bad wolf trying to blow her fucking house down, as out of control as I’d ever been. Still, I’d been the safer bet, the lesser threat than whatever evil was terrifying her.

I was her mate—born to protect her, to take care of her, to give her everything she needed—and she had no fucking clue. I would kill for her without a second thought, protect her with my life, but she didn’t trust me—not yet—and it was near impossible to contain everything I felt blazing inside me. Every time I scented her fear, I wanted to tear the motherfucking walls down. I wanted to drop to my knees in front of her and beg her not to be afraid of me.

I couldn’t do any of those things, not while she was still so skittish.

If I told her the truth now, she’d run. I didn’t doubt that for one second.

I pressed my nose to her hair and breathed her into my lungs. Her scent was deeper in the morning when she was all warm and soft. My hand rested on the small of her back, and I wanted to smooth it over her body, to feel every curve, but I didn’t dare move.

She made a cute little snuffling sound, and I studied her features. She was stunning, like a curvy little pixie. The thought of her being afraid raised my hackles and made me thirst for blood.

When she’d handed me that glass of bourbon, I’d known she was trying to drug me, just not why. I’d scented the herbs and whatever else she’d put in it before she even carried it from the back room. Hounds were not only immortal, but we also had a metabolism that was incredibly fast. I’d gotten a high from it for a few seconds, and then my body had burned it right up.

As for my soul, she didn’t own shit. Fuck knew where she’d gotten that bullshit from, but that wasn’t how soul ownership went down. First, not only had the ritual been all wrong, but you needed to use your true name, and I got the feeling Fern Honeycutt wasn’t it. Second, even if she had gotten the ritual right, I didn’t have a soul for her to claim—no one Hell-born did. Hellhounds had a kind of equivalent created by Lucifer. Some still called it a “soul” because it was an easier way to explain it to others. Instead, we had a kind of life force—an essence, I guessed—something that meant if we died, we weren’t gone forever. It worked in a similar way to a soul, but it wasn’t what Fern was hoping for, and it wasn’t something she could own. There were only two places our life force could go if we died—back to Hell, or if something went wrong or we deserved it, Limbo. Either way you looked at it, you couldn’t claim what didn’t exist.

While I’d sat on her couch, she’d been waiting for her drug to wear off, anticipating when I’d realize what she’d done. I was no actor, but I’d watched enough movies to know she’d expect me to be pissed off, enraged that she’d taken my freedom and made me her guard dog. It wasn’t easy, and at first, I wasn’t sure I was selling it. It was hard when, instead of being angry, I was over the fucking moon. My mate might not realize who I was just yet, but she knew I could protect her. She knew I was the only male strong enough to keep her safe, and the satisfaction I felt was heady as fuck. I’d been fighting not to puff out my fucking chest and howl.

So, yeah, she could believe she owned my soul for as long as she needed to—whatever my Tinker Bell needed to make her feel safe and whatever ensured I could stay close.

I breathed her in again. The name she’d chosen for herself fit her well because her scent was like an open field covered in honeysuckle. Fuck, I wanted it all over me.

She jolted on top of me suddenly, a gasp coming from her before her eyes flew open, and she lifted herself with a jerk. Her eyes widened when she looked down at me.

“You’re okay,” I said, giving in to the need and sliding my hand up her back and down again. Then, I had to choke down my growl and force myself not to grip the back of her neck and tug her down for a hard kiss because her full lips were extra puffy from sleep, like I imagined they’d be after she—

Her hand flew up, and she slapped me across the face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Did I say you could touch me, hound?”

Cute. She was all flushed and pissed. I liked it when she got all worked up. The scent of her anger made my dick hard. Better that than the bitter scent of her fear.

“If you’re going to hit me, do it like you mean it.” I grinned. “That was just a little love tap, Tinker Bell.”

She growled, but I noted she still hadn’t moved. She stayed draped over me, her body all up on mine. She was also shaking.

My little female was seeking comfort from me, and she didn’t even realize it.

“You have another nightmare, Fern?” I didn’t know how I knew it, but I did. That slap was more about releasing tension than hitting me.

Her gaze darted away from mine. “I’m fine, just … don’t do it again,” she said.

I noted again how she still hadn’t moved.

“Do what?”

Her soft belly was against my abs, and every now and then, her tits grazed my chest.

“This … touch me.” Her face turned pink. “Pull me on top of you.”

“Didn’t touch you, and you crawled up there all by yourself. I woke and found you on me.” I shrugged. “You looked comfortable, so I left you where you were.” I pressed my hand more firmly against her back, unable to stop myself.

Fuck, I wanted that mouth.

She stiffened, and I saw the moment she realized I wasn’t holding her there, that she was free to move however she wanted, and she hadn’t. She quickly scrambled off me and off the bed, and I wanted her back instantly. But in her hurry to get away, her sleeves had come up, and I could also see a strip of her belly. Silvery scars marred her smooth skin—some vicious-looking slices, burns, and fuck knew what else.

My grin slid away.

Immortals—demons—didn’t scar. Which meant someone had hurt her and made sure she was left with those on purpose, and going by the way she quickly yanked down her sleeves and straightened her shirt, she didn’t want me to see.

“I’m taking a shower,” she said, not meeting my eyes. “Could you put a pot of coffee on … please?”

I nodded, my throat too fucking tight to speak. Someone had hurt her. Someone had cut and burned her. Someone had tortured my female so badly that she was terrified all the time, to the point that she had nightmares and had tried to claim the soul of a hellhound for protection.

Gritting my teeth, I sucked in a sharp breath and forced myself to stay perfectly still while anger seared its way through me so hotly that a roar built in my chest, burning deep. If I opened my mouth right then, it would burst free. If I stood, if I moved, I would punch a hole in something—several somethings. I couldn’t do that. I would not give Fern another reason to be scared of me, so instead, I locked it down tight—so fucking tight that it caused physical pain.

After taking several more deep breaths, and getting a handle on my control, I swung out of bed, got dressed, and went to make my female her coffee.

When she finally walked out, she was dressed in a way that covered every bit of skin. I’d never thought about it, but she always did. Every time I saw her, she was covered completely. She wasn’t looking at me right then; she was checking something on her phone.

I slid her coffee across the counter, and she took it with a mumbled, “Thanks,” but still no eye contact.

No, I couldn’t read emotions very well, but what she was feeling wasn’t good—I knew that much.

“Talk to me, Fern,” I said before I could stop myself. “Tell me what you’re feeling?”

Her yellow-green eyes sliced to me. “What I’m feeling?”

I nodded, but I didn’t add anything else because she knew why I was asking.

“I don’t know. Irritated that the humongous hound in my tiny apartment keeps asking me stupid questions.” She grabbed her boots and sat on the couch to put them on.

I wanted to scoop her up and sit her on my lap. I wanted to do that so fucking badly. Then, I wanted to bury my nose in her hair while we cuddled, and I played with her pussy to make her feel better.

“Something’s bothering you.”

Her chin jerked up, and her eyes flashed red. “Do not forget that you belong to me, Relic, and I’m ordering you—as the owner of your soul and for your own protection because these boots could make mincemeat of your balls—to stop acting like you give a shit about me when we both know you’d end me in a heartbeat if you had the chance.”

She’d gotten one thing right; I fucking belonged to her. I was hers, and she was mine.

I shook my head. “You don’t know me very well yet, so I’ll forgive you this time for saying that shit, but I will repeat this because you don’t seem to be paying attention. I have no intention—and never had any intention—of hurting you, Fern, in any way. And you suggesting that I would—that I want to hurt you, end you —makes me seriously fucking grumpy.” I grabbed her coffee off the table beside her and held it out. “Now, finish your drink, and let’s go open the shop.”

* * *

“Why are you doing this to me?” Fern said as she climbed off the back of my bike, her gaze darting around the clubhouse parking lot as she tugged at her sleeves.

“Not doing anything to you, Tink.”

I took her hand, and she dug in her heels when I started toward the clubhouse.

“Nope. I changed my mind. I’m not going in there.”

“What’s the problem? You don’t think I can protect you? You think that my brothers would dare lay a fucking hand on you?” My voice came out rougher than I’d intended because the beast in me did not like that my female questioned my ability to protect her.

“They’re hellhounds. I’m a demon.”

“We don’t hate demons, Fern. If they’re up to no good, then, yeah, we let them see our mean side, but we don’t just see a demon and immediately want to fuck them up.”

She didn’t look convinced, she was still searching our surroundings, over the row of bikes, then to the garage, where a couple of my brothers were working. “They won’t like me. They’ll sense I’m a demon and see me as a threat.”

I stopped trying to pull her after me and stepped close to her instead, forcing her to tilt her head back. I grinned down at her. “No one here will see you as a threat, little demon.”

“Asshole,” she muttered.

“You’re cute when you get all feisty.”

She tried to shove me. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what? Charming? Sexy? Handsome? No idea. I was just born this way, Tink.”

She tried to fight it, but a small smile curved her lips, which was exactly what I’d been going for. She was scared as hell, and the bitter scent surrounded her. I fucking hated it.

“So, why was it so important that we come here?” she asked, this time letting me lead her toward the door, albeit reluctantly.

“Willow—the alpha’s mate—got some bad news this week, and I wanted to pay her a visit.”

She frowned up at me. “What kind of news?”

“She’s losing someone close to her.”

“Oh.”

She didn’t say anything more as I led her into the clubhouse. Jagger and Rome were at one of the tall tables across the room and gave us a chin lift. A couple of other brothers were sitting on the couches in the back with females and didn’t even notice we’d walked in. The door to the dens opened, and Warrick walked out. He spotted me and headed my way.

His gaze slid to Fern when we stopped, and she stepped behind me, pressing against my back. I fucking hated that she was afraid, but I fucking loved that she instantly sought protection from me.

War looked at me and lifted a brow. “What’s up?”

“Wills home?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s she doing?”

Warrick’s expression grew heavy. Before he’d met Willow, before they mated and he gained the ability to truly feel, he hadn’t done that; his face had given away nothing. Sometimes, when I looked at him when he was with his family, he’d have this look that even I could tell expressed a whole lot of really fucking good things, and I wanted to know what it was like, what those good things felt like. This time, though, it was obvious. I didn’t need to ask what this one meant.

“She’s not doing too well. She’s heading back out soon.”

“You good if I stop in and see her?”

War looked back at Fern, and she actually whimpered.

“Who’s your friend?”

I reached back, curling my arm around her to reassure her. “Brother, you’re freaking her out.”

He looked back at me, and there were questions, but thankfully, he didn’t voice them.

“I’ve got her,” I answered.

Fern was no threat to his female or their pup.

Warrick nodded. “If you go now, you’ll catch her before she leaves, and then I need you back up here. We leave in half an hour.”

War had texted earlier—something I hadn’t told Fern. We had a couple leads on Faron, and he wanted all hands on deck.

I felt her stare burning into me, and I ignored it. I jerked up my chin and carried on toward the door that led below ground. War’s orders weren’t the only reason I’d wanted to bring Fern here. The faster she got used to my brothers and to the clubhouse, the better. But most of all, I wanted her in my den, in my bed. Fuck, I wanted her honeysuckle scent all over my sheets.

* * *

FERN

I’d never met Willow, but I knew of the witch’s family, and I’d met a couple of her sisters. Magnolia was one of my regulars and the one who’d told me how to find Agatheena’s cottage. And, yeah, okay, I’d checked out their profiles on Nightscape—a social media app for non-humans—but I never thought I’d be in one of their houses, never in a million years. Nor the hellhound’s den, and definitely not in the alpha’s private quarters. I sure as fuck hadn’t thought I’d be standing by the door, trying to be invisible, while Warrick’s mate distractedly offered me fucking tea.

“No, thank you.”

She’d barely looked at me when we walked in, and I got the feeling when we left, she’d forget I existed. She was definitely preoccupied; grief etched her lovely face. Good thing she wasn’t in the mood to chat because right then, I was busy working at keeping my breathing even and not hyperventilating. I didn’t like confined spaces, and knowing we were below ground was making it hard for me to remain calm.

You know where the exit is. You’re not locked in. You can leave at any time.

Relic was holding her baby in his big arms—rocking her gently, murmuring low, and occasionally scenting her tiny head—while the witch rushed around, putting things in a bag covered in sparkly unicorns. The baby had been fussing but calmed seconds after Willow handed the child to Relic.

Relic and Willow talked about someone I didn’t know in reverent, hushed tones, and I barely heard a word, focused inwardly now, trying really fucking hard not to freak out.

Relic placed the baby in her car seat and buckled her in, and then he pulled the witch into his arms, hugging her and dropping a kiss to the top of her head. Something sharp and painful tugged in my chest. It was unexpected and weird, and I didn’t like the way it felt. Not at fucking all.

“You need anything, Wills—any of you—I’m here, babe.”

She smiled up at him. “I know—we all do, and we love you for it.”

We left and carried on down the main tunnel.

Fuck .

The walls were stone, and torches lit the way, giving everything a golden glow. There were more caves branching off here and there. The dens were obviously vast. The clubhouse was nothing compared to what was down here.

Finally, Relic stopped in front of a door, unlocked it, and then opened it.

His scent was stronger in this room. This was where he slept.

He led me inside and closed us in.

“Why are we here?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself. My heart was pounding, my palms were sweaty, and every inhale had my body tightening and heating.

“I need some more of my shit if I’m staying at your place,” he said, his gaze really freaking intense.

I quickly looked away, taking in the large room. There was a big bed to one side, a dresser, and a couch off to the side with a flat-screen TV on the wall. I assumed the door beside the bar fridge across from me was the bathroom.

I desperately searched for a window, but of course, there wasn’t one. There were grooves between the edge of the wall and the ceiling. What looked like natural light filtered in from somewhere, and that helped ease the pressure in my skull a little. It wasn’t exactly like the dark dungeon I’d imagined. Still, I didn’t want to be down here.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, it’s fine, I guess.” I didn’t know what to say, and he was watching me closely.

“War and Dirk—our two mated brothers—have bigger quarters. The rest are like this one.”

“Oh … right.”

I crossed my arms, still feeling on edge and off-balance from being in this place, being below ground, being stared down by the alpha, seeing Relic with that witch and her baby, and now this. My fangs tingled, and my heart pounded. I was a volatile mix of thoughts and feelings, and my hunger was growing again, rearing its head, reminding me of what I was. I was torn between curling up on the floor in fear, running like fuck out of here, and launching myself at Relic and sinking my fangs into that thick vein at the side of his throat.

“Can we go now?”

He was studying me, and I wondered what he could sense, how many of my fucked-up emotions and desires were being broadcast to the hellhound.

“My brothers need my help first. You can stay in here—”

“No, you need to take me home first.”

Relic shook his head. “I can’t do that, Fern, but as soon as I get back, we’ll go to your place, yeah?”

“I’m ordering you to take me to my place. I own you, remember? And I’m not comfortable here, so you have to do it,” I said, my voice growing louder. I sounded like a bitch, but I had no control over that. It was my fear default, and right then, I was shit-scared.

“You’re not at risk here, Fern. Leaving you at your place on your own is more dangerous. Now, I’ve got shit I need to do, and keeping you here is how I’m protecting you.”

I charged for the door, but he hooked me around the waist, stopping me. I fought, gasping back my terror. Something else I’d learned over the years was to never, ever scream. I silently fought, my grunts and pants filling the room as Relic manhandled me like I was a rag doll. He pressed me against the wall, immobilizing me easily; one of his big mitts encircled my wrists while his other hand gripped my upper thigh, and his massive body pinned me.

“Stop,” he said low. “Take a fucking breath.”

“Let me go. I want to go home,” I bit out. “You can’t do this. You can’t trap me here.”

A rumbling sound vibrated through his chest and into mine. “I’m not trapping you here—”

“Please … please, you can’t … don’t lock me down here.” I was in full-on panic mode now. No, I wasn’t screaming or crying or yelling because that was not what I did, but the terror was so vast and so fierce that the panic took hold, and I was close to passing the fuck out.

“Look at me,” Relic growled.

I dug my nails into his arm and snapped my teeth at him because I was a demon, and instinct had taken over—scratch, bite, fight.

“Fern,” Relic barked, giving me a shake.

I froze and blinked up at him.

“You need to calm down for me, okay? Take a breath, baby, nice and slow …”

More rumbling vibrated from him to me. It should be terrifying, but something about it was … comforting. I dragged in a much-needed breath, doing what he’d said—because if I didn’t, I would definitely pass out, and then he could leave, and I’d be trapped.

“That’s it, Fern, and another one.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead, like he’d done to the alpha’s female, to that baby, like he cared, as if he cared about me. “Now, I need you to listen to me—really listen,” he said roughly.

“I’m not a fucking idiot,” I bit out because I wanted him to care, and that scared me even more. “I know how to listen.”

His lips twitched, and I barely resisted snapping my teeth again, biting that lower lip hard enough to make it bleed, then I’d lap at it, and—

Stop.

Oh, fuck, now, my body was getting all hot and bothered. I was afraid and turned on at the same time. That was so fucked up. I was so fucked up. Disgusting .

Relic breathed deep, and his eyes flashed, getting all glowy before another growl slipped from between his perfect lips, which made me feel even hotter. Oh gods, he could smell it … me . Of course he could. He knew I was scared, and he knew I was turned on. My face burned with humiliation.

“I’m not going to lock you in here, Tink,” he said as if he hadn’t just scented me, as if he didn’t know how hot and slick I’d gotten while I fought against him.

“Put me down,” I rasped.

He didn’t move; he just held me in place. “I need to do my job, and I can’t do that if I’m worried about you. So, I need you to stay here in my room. You’ll have the key. You can lock yourself in if you need to, but no one will bother you. You are safe here. I know you’re scared, but I need you to promise me you won’t leave, that you won’t try to go back to your place without me and put yourself in danger.”

He was pretending like he didn’t know what my body was doing, how it was reacting. He’d chosen not to shame me. I realized that his grip on my wrists had loosened, and if I wanted to, I could slip them free. I took another deep breath because I’d lost my shit just now, and there was no denying it. And as much as I didn’t want to stay here, going back to my place alone would be monumentally stupid.

“Who else has a copy of your key?”

“No one but me.” His voice was rough as hell. His eyelids drooped, and his irises were still glowing, but he was acting like nothing was wrong. “There’s one on my dresser and another with my bike key. That’s it, the only two.”

What choice did I have?

I blew out a ragged breath. “Okay, fine.”