Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

FERN

My eyes flew open when my stomach revolted violently. I blinked into the darkness. I was still in Relic’s room, and he was asleep beside me, so close that I felt the heat radiating from his body like a furnace.

Oh, fuck .

My hand flew to my mouth, and I scrambled out of bed as quickly and quietly as I could. Then, I stumbled to the bathroom. I bumped the door shut with my foot and rushed to the toilet. Dropping to my knees, I heaved, emptying the contents of my stomach. Biting back my groan, I gasped in gulp after gulp of air and shook my head, praying this was a one-and-done situation, but I knew I wasn’t going to be that lucky when the nausea started to build again instantly.

Idiot. I’d done this to my damn self. What the hell was I thinking? I should never have taken the potion last night. I’d let my anxiety get the better of me, like I always did, but between the hunger, and the break in, I’d been seriously struggling. At that moment, when I’d been lost in my fear, imagining the past repeating itself, while sitting in a room full of freaking predators, I hadn’t seen another choice. The knowledge that it would make me sick had seemed like a far better option than having a full-blown meltdown in front of everyone in the bar, in front of Relic.

I heaved again, and angry tears filled my eyes. I’d never fucking hated myself more.

Even knowing the nausea would come, that the fear and my compulsions would be worse when the potion wore off, I’d still done it.

In my defense, it didn’t usually last that long, but of course, now, out of all the times I’d used it, I could tell this was going to be worse than ever before. Maybe because I’d used it less than a week ago when I went to Agatheena’s, and there’d still been traces of it in my system? I could only guess, but I was never taking it again—at least not when I was with others.

I didn’t need an audience while my fucked-up mind forced me to complete a list of rituals just so I could function. When I took the potion, old compulsions from when I was younger would rear back up; checking and rechecking that I’d locked doors and windows, switching the light on and off while I counted to four, reading certain things like the names of TV shows or street signs and having to repeat them in my head, only backward, not stepping on cracks, retracing my steps, like there was a rope connected to my back that would get all tangled up if I didn’t go back the way I came, whether it was in my apartment or the route I’d taken to the grocery store, the list went on, and all while I counted to four and back, everything in fours—even how many times I fucking orgasmed.

I cringed in shame and horror, remembering what had happened when we came back here last night, the way I’d behaved, like a sexually depraved psychopath. Groaning, I retched so violently I shook. I wanted to disappear. I never wanted to see Relic ever again. Maybe if I begged, Agatheena would let me stay with her. I’d do whatever she wanted. No one would ever find me out there. Not even Relic could get past her wards.

My face burned hotter, and I gagged, straining as bile burned my throat when there was nothing else left.

I jolted when my hair was carefully lifted back from my face, and tried to pull away, but a muscled arm curled around me, holding me still.

“I got you, Tink. Get it all out, baby.”

I shook my head. No. Sweet Lucifer, no. Not this. I didn’t want him to see me like this as well. “Leave me here,” I choked out. “Go away. P-please. Just leave me.”

I felt so weak, my limbs heavy and shaky, and despite the nausea, hunger still gnawed viciously at my stomach. I couldn’t even shove him away. I couldn’t do any-fucking-thing, and right then, I just wanted to disappear and never come back.

“Not going anywhere, Fern,” he said roughly. Then, his arm around me slid away a second before I felt his fingers running through my hair.

“What are you doing?”

“Just getting it out of the way.”

He was braiding it. A lot of the hounds wore it that way. Relic’s had been braided the first time he came into my shop. Tingles prickled all over my scalp—the nice kind that made me feel all drowsy. The last time I’d felt that was when I was a child, when my mom would play with my hair while she read me a bedtime story.

“W-why are you doing this?” I heaved again. I hadn’t thought there was anything left inside me, but apparently, I was wrong.

“’Cause you got really nice hair, and I didn’t think you’d want puke in it,” he said.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him take a hair tie from the bathroom counter and then used it to secure the braid.

“Good thinking,” I said, trying to act like this was nothing, that I didn’t care, that I hadn’t just begged him to leave when all I wanted at this moment was for the ground to open up and suck me under.

One of his hands, large and warm, slid up and down my back, soothing me. “Don’t act so surprised. I’m not just a pretty face, you know,” he said, his tone teasing. “I’m kind of offended all you see are the muscles and the good looks.”

I huffed out a laugh. “I bet about now, you wish your muscles were the only things I’d taken advantage of since you met me.”

“You haven’t taken advantage of shit, Fern,” he said, all traces of teasing gone.

I shook my head while the elephant in the room loomed over us, stomping its massive feet, demanding attention. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t pretend what had happened hadn’t. What I’d done was absolutely fucked up. I swallowed past my scratchy throat several times.

“So far, I’ve stolen your soul, ordered you around, thrown attitude, been a bitch, demanded you protect me, treated you like a servant”—I swallowed again, my throat like razor blades—“and a … a sex slave last night, and now a fucking nursemaid. So, I don’t just see the muscles and the handsome face. No, I know exactly what kind of male you are, Relic—a good one—and I’m ashamed of the things I’ve done to you—”

“Don’t,” he growled. “We don’t use that word here. Shame does not exist in this place and not between us. So, I’m telling you now, you need to lose it from your vocabulary—understand me?”

“What I did to you … and last night …” I heaved again, but not from the aftereffects of the potion, not this time. I’d taken advantage of him, used him like an object to help get me off. I squeezed my eyes closed as I gasped in a breath. “I’m so disgusting. You must hate me; you must hate me so much.”

I was jostled suddenly and lifted as Relic sat back, leaning against the wall, positioning me in his lap.

Wriggling, I desperately tried to get away. I didn’t deserve to be comforted. “I need to release yo—”

“Shh. It’s quiet time.” He tugged down the towel from the rail beside him, still damp from his shower earlier, and used it to wipe my face. “No more talking, Tinker Bell, because everything you’re saying is not only wrong, but it’s pissing me off.”

He tossed the towel aside and wrapped his arms around me—not tight, but enough that I knew he wasn’t letting me get up. “I told you last night that you’re not disgusting, that there’s fucking nothing disgusting about you.” He smoothed his hand down my back, soothing me again. “No, sweetness. To me, you are fucking perfect.”

I recoiled, shaking my head, and opened my mouth to tell him he was wrong, but he took my jaw in his hand—again, not hard or painful, but in a way that told me to shut up and listen.

Didn’t he understand that his view of me was distorted? I owned his soul, for fuck’s sake. He was confused by the connection it had created between us. I sure as hell wasn’t immune to it.

“Everything I’ve done since the night we made our deal was voluntary.”

I shook my head, trying to speak again, and again, he stopped me.

“I know you don’t believe that, not yet, but it’s true. I’d wanted to protect you before we made our deal, Tink. I told you that—you know I did—so you have to know that I’m more than good with that part. As for the rest of it, getting you a cup of tea doesn’t make me a servant, and helping you last night …”

I tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let me do that either.

“Helping you last night did not make me your fucking sex slave, baby. It just fucking doesn’t because, again, everything I’ve done was because I wanted to. And taking care of you when you’re sick … I’m starting to get the feeling that not many people have done that for you, so sitting here with you now—taking care of you when you are at your most vulnerable, knowing that you trust me to do that for you, whether you like it or not—is my fucking privilege, Fern.”

I blinked up at him. This male could not be real. Everything he’d said gave me feelings I didn’t know what to do with, filling me to overflowing. And the biggest one? Hope. I didn’t let myself hope. Ever.

He only thinks those things because you own him.

My head refused to entertain the things he’d said. It was just my poor, neglected heart that wanted to believe a male like him could truly care about me.

“You don’t know me,” I whispered. “You wouldn’t say those things if you did.”

I wanted it to be true, for him to truly care about me, but I’d taken enough from him. I couldn’t let him think those things; I couldn’t not warn him. I wasn’t the female he thought I was—I couldn’t be. If he saw me—if he truly saw me—he never would have said what he had. He sure as fuck would never think caring for me was a privilege.

He held my gaze. “Why don’t you try me?”

If I was going to get through this thing with my heart intact, then I needed to protect it. I needed to squash the stupid hope trying to rear its goddamn head. I needed to make him stop looking at me like that.

“I have compulsions,” I whispered so low that I wasn’t sure he’d hear me. Shame burned my face. “Like … like last night, but other things too. The way my shoes are lined up, the way my cup is placed by my bed at night. I check things over and over again. I like things in fours, and I count in my head all the time. And all of it gets worse when I’m stressed. My anxiety gets so bad that I made an elixir to help me when the fear and the intrusive thoughts get the better of me, except it makes everything worse when it wears off. What happened when we got back from the bar was the worst it’s ever been.” I looked away because looking at that handsome face and those gentle eyes was too much. “Then afterward, I get sick. I throw up.”

His knuckles slid under my chin, forcing me to stare up at him. “You did this to yourself?”

“Yes.”

Yes, I’m that fucked up. So broken that I took something that hurts me because I can’t deal with the real world like everyone else can .

Here it came—any minute now, the disgust. It was kind of a relief, honestly, because hope was exhausting and the most terrifying thing of all.

“You should’ve told me, Tink,” he said, his expression unchanging. “If I’d known how freaked you were, how bad it was, I would’ve gotten you out of there sooner,” he said, blaming himself instead of telling me what a fucked-up mess I was.

“Stop saying nice things to me. Just fucking stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop, sweetness.” His thumb swiped across my cheek. “And you can’t make me.”

“I’m not sweet, Relic,” I choked out, my body trembling as if I were going into shock.

“You are to me,” he said, followed by another gentle swipe of his thumb. “And feisty and tough and fucking gorgeous.”

I shook my head. “You’re wrong.”

“Fern, I’m not.”

“I’m an abomination,” I whispered.

His nostrils flared, and he bared his teeth. “Well then, you’re the sweetest little abomination I’ve ever seen.”

“Why are you doing this?” I hated the way my voice cracked, revealing just how vulnerable I was at that moment. “What do you want from me?”

“Don’t want anything from you that you aren’t willing to give. I just want you, baby, whatever you decide that is.”

My heart was pounding wildly in my chest. No one had ever said anything like that to me in my life. My head spun. I was so weak, so hungry, so fucking tired.

Relic was like a dream—a beautiful dream. A nice change from the horror show that usually played through my mind. He made me feel so incredibly exposed. Relic unarmed me, but he was also safe, and for the first time since I’d escaped the twisted prison my grandfather had taken me to, I wanted to let someone in just a little bit.

I looked into his eyes and took several steadying breaths. “I … I need to brush my teeth,” I said, chickening out instead of saying what sat on the tip of my tongue.

I didn’t miss the disappointment that drifted through his eyes.

He didn’t comment, just stood, holding me up when my legs tried to give out. Guilt and frustration filled me. I’d never felt weaker or more pathetic in my life. I grabbed my toothbrush from the counter, loaded it with toothpaste, and quickly brushed my teeth, but even that felt like too much work. I spat, and he handed me a clean towel to wipe my mouth.

“Ready to leave the bathroom?” he asked.

My stomach still felt iffy. “Not yet.”

He sat back down on the floor, taking me with him, arranging me on his lap. Gods help me, I let him hold me in those strong, warm arms with no thought to protest or resist, not anymore.

“I only found out I was a soul collector a couple of weeks ago.” I hadn’t meant to say it; I hadn’t thought I would.

His beautiful beast’s eyes searched my face, waiting and hoping for more—I could see it—but he wasn’t going to push. Again, I wondered if he realized that he was feeling it, all those emotions that were being broadcast from the depths of his gaze, because surely, he had to be feeling something if I saw it so clearly.

He’d never force me to say or do anything I didn’t want to do, no matter how much he wanted me to share with him. Relic wasn’t like that. As that truth settled, I realized I wanted to.

“That night at The Vault, that was going to be the first time I drank blood.”

His nostrils flared. “You’ve never fed before?”

I shook my head and licked my dry lips, my eyes drawn to that thick vein in his throat. “I’ve had bouts of weakness on and off most of my life—anemia. I thought I knew why, but it’s not … the reason I thought. And because soul collectors don’t need to feed so often, not like vampires, and because I’m not a full soul collector, I guess I’ve gotten by without it.”

“But something changed?” he asked.

“The weakness, the tiredness has been getting worse, and I’m … I’m just so hungry, Relic. Sometimes, I can’t think straight.”

His chest expanded. “Then, let me feed you. Let me give that to you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t, I offered.”

My mouth watered, and my stomach cramped. “What if I hurt you? What if I can’t stop?”

I knew how it felt to be on the receiving end of it—being lost to another being’s bloodlust—and I’d never wish that on anyone.

He grinned, tucking my hair behind my ear. “First, you’re not going to hurt me, and second, you don’t think I can stop a little pixie like you?”

“What if I drink too much? What if—”

“If I start getting dizzy, baby, I’ll stop you. But FYI, hounds regenerate at a fucking rapid rate. I’ll be making more blood as quickly as that pretty mouth is drinking it.” His thumb slid over my lower lip. “You don’t have to hold back, and you don’t have to restrict yourself. You can drink until you’re satisfied, Fern. As much as you want, whenever you want it.”

A groan slipped past my lips before I could stop it. I realized I was panting. My fangs were tingling, and the cramps in my stomach were growing more intense. The thump of Relic’s heart, the sound of his blood rushing through his veins, filled my head now.

“You’d let me do that?”

“You can do whatever the fuck you want to me, sweetness. Whatever you want, I’m yours.”

He meant it, and he was making it impossible for me to resist. And I didn’t want to, did I? That was why I’d told him those things—because I hungered for him so badly, because I knew he’d offer to feed me. I was still being a selfish bitch, but I couldn’t stop this, not now. If I didn’t taste his blood soon, I thought I might actually die. His vein throbbed, and I licked my lips.

“Bite me,” he said roughly.

The control that I’d been hanging on to by a thread snapped, and I moved with a speed I hadn’t known I was capable of. As I straddled his wide hips, my vision went hazy, tingeing red. A weird sound vibrated from my chest—a repetitive purring sound I didn’t know I could make.

“If I hurt you—”

“You won’t.”

“But if I do, promise me you’ll stop me. Promise me you’ll push me away.”

“I promise.”

His hands gripped my hips as I dragged my nose up his thick throat, breathing in his delectable scent. My tongue darted out for a taste, and I groaned again, then whimpered when I felt that thick vein, hot and pulsing.

“Do it, Fern. Bite me. I’m yours, baby.”

He was mine. The words filled my mind, and at that moment, I believed it. I wanted it to be true. Letting go—finally letting go of everything—I sank my fangs into his flesh. As his blood filled my mouth, sliding over my lips and tongue and coating my teeth, I felt whole for the first time in my entire life. His taste set my body, my nerves, my fucking soul on fire.

“Fuck,” Relic grunted, and his fingers dug into my hips, followed by a sound that was impossibly low and gravelly.

If he wanted me to stop, I couldn’t do it myself; he’d have to tear me off him because with every mouthful of blood I swallowed down, my body became more alive.

I didn’t realize I’d been so numb until, cell by cell, nerve by nerve, limb by limb, I came back to life. The warmth sliding down my throat heated me from the inside out, causing tingles to dance over my flesh. My blood felt hot in my veins, and the pulse between my thighs was deep and wild. As I drew harder on Relic’s vein, I felt his cock grow heavy beneath me. The vibrations from his chest—from the animal, the hound—blended with the ones coming from me.

My nipples were tight, and the ache had me pressing my chest against his.

“I got you,” he said as he rubbed my back with one hand. “Don’t you fucking stop. You drink until you’re full.”

Dark need curled inside me, untamed and uncontrollable. Between my thighs was swollen and slick, and I felt so fucking empty that it hurt. I couldn’t stop myself from pressing down on the hardness beneath me, trying to fill that emptiness, even through his underwear—the only thing between us. I ground down harder, gripping his shoulders, and rolled my hips.

“That’s it, sweetness. Whatever you need, you get it from me. You take it from me.”

Yes! Yes, I’ll take it from him because he’s mine. Relic is mine.

I tore my mouth from his throat long enough to cry out as I came hard, grinding on him. Then I latched back onto his throat, rocking against him, feeding in a frenzied way I had no control over. I didn’t want to control it. I wanted to feed, and … sweet Lucifer, I wanted to fuck. I wanted to be fucked.

“Fuck me,” I groaned against his throat. “Please, fuck me. I need it.”

I ground my clit down on him, bucking and grinding, and I came again, sweating and trembling and crying out, but it wasn’t enough. I needed more.

Relic hissed.

“Please,” I begged.

One minute, I was straddling him on the bathroom floor, and the next, he was up and carrying me to the bedroom.

“Not gonna fuck you, Tink, not yet.”

I growled, rubbing up on him while I slid my tongue over the blood still sluggishly pulsing from his vein. “Please, I need it,” I said, knowing I couldn’t make Relic do shit, at least not in this, not when it didn’t involve my protection or our deal.

A breathless chuckle left him. Then, he dumped me on the bed and came down on top of me. “I know you want it, but you’re not in your right mind, and as much as I’d love to get inside that sweet-as-fuck pussy, I’m not doing anything that will make you hate me later. When I fuck you, you won’t be blood-drunk; you’ll be fully fucking sober. Don’t move.”

He climbed off the bed, and I protested, spreading my thighs and rocking my hips.

“Hold tight, Fern.”

He opened the door, grabbed something from outside, shut the door again, and strode into the bathroom. The sound of running water came next. Then, he was back with something in his hand and lay down beside me.

He pressed it—whatever it was—against my thigh. It was rubbery and vibrating.

“What is that?”

“Something that vibrates to get you off nice and easy so you don’t hurt yourself.”

A vibrator? He’d gotten me a vibrator.

“When? How?”

Instead of answering, he pressed his wrist to my lips and put the vibrator in my hand. I was too turned on, too hungry still, to resist. I sank my teeth into him, into his vein, and rolled my hips as his blood filled my mouth again. He curled his fingers around my hand and led the toy to my pussy, running it over my clit. I jerked and bit down harder.

Relic growled. “Put it where you need it; put it where it feels good.”

I might be blood-drunk, but I knew I’d come twice, that I had to come at least two more times, that for once, I wanted to come two more times. I slid it through my slickness, rubbing it over my clit, and the vibrations had my eyes rolling back.

“Oh gods.” I rocked against it, panting.

It was too much, and I slammed my thighs closed around it, pulling it back a little bit so it was still touching me but with less intensity. A moment later, I arched off the bed, groaning low, coming a third time, while my inner muscles clenched fiercely around nothing.

“I feel empty,” I groaned.

“Then push it inside you, baby. That’s what it’s for—to make you feel good,” he said. “Show me how you like to be fucked, Fern.”

His gravelly voice rolled through me. How could I still be turned on?

Holding on to his wrist tight, I drew deeply on his vein, and with my other hand, I positioned the vibrator right where I needed it. I slid it in slowly, and my eyes widened. Then I whimpered when I saw him. Relic was watching me, his eyes glowing gold in the shadowed room.

I lapped at his wrist. The zing of his blood and the feel of being filled—it was more than I knew what to do with. I lost control, sinking my fangs into his vein again as I thrust the vibrator into me repeatedly, my eyes locked on Relic the whole time.

“That’s it. Pussy’s fucking dripping, Fern. So fucking pretty. So fucking hot. Hold it inside. That’s it. Feels good there, yeah? Stay deep. Now faster, short strokes.”

It was as if he knew exactly what I needed. Heat flushed my entire body as that dark hunger filled me again. I moaned, squeezing my eyes closed as pleasure built inside me, so high that I was forced to release Relic’s vein so I could throw my head back. I screamed as my pussy clamped down hard, making me shake and writhe as I came. I’d never come this way, ever.

My eyes flew open, and Relic was right there, looming over me, his glowing gaze sliding over my face.

Without thinking, completely ruled by instinct, I reached up, slid my fingers around the back of his neck, and drew him to me. His lips met mine, and I moaned as the taste of his blood and his tongue mingled together against mine. He didn’t pull away or try to stop me; he kissed me back. It was hot, and deep, and perfect.

I’d wondered what it would be like to kiss him—those full, perfectly formed lips—and it was so much better than I’d allowed myself to imagine.

He slowed the kiss down, taking over as my body calmed, and I loved that even more. His tongue slid lazily into my mouth, sucking lightly on my lower lip before his brushed across mine over and over.

Finally, he lifted his head, his gorgeous eyes on me as he swept my sweaty hair back from my face. “Like I said, Tinker Bell, fucking sweet.”