Chapter 33

I’m walking through the cemetery, the path I’m taking familiar to me now. I come here often, but I still don’t know why. Why I aimlessly roam around this cemetery time and time again. I don’t think I’ll ever know. I know I’m searching for something. I think I’m meeting someone here. Someone important.

The air is chilly around me, the wind biting as it twists through my hair. Unexpectedly, the air stills around me. All I can hear is my heart beating inside of my ears, pounding and vibrating in my chest.

I notice suddenly that something feels different. There’s a sense of danger here now. My surroundings are shrouded in a black mist that’s growing thicker with each passing second, twining around my feet and wrapping around my legs. It swirls and twists around me like it’s alive.

My breathing is uneven, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. As the mist crawls around me, up my body, I know it’s altering me, changing me and taking what it wants from me. I don’t know exactly what it’s taking, but it consumes me. Its black clutches reach my neck, and I can see nothing in front of me or around me anymore. The cemetery is gone, and my vision is completely obscured. All I can see is black.

And then the mist constricts, squeezing around my body, forcing the air from my lungs. I can’t move. My arms are locked at my sides, my feet stuck to the ground where I stand.

Behind me, I feel hot breath on my neck. Visions of vipers slithering on the ground around me fly across my mind. Their teeth sink into every inch of my body. I can feel every bite ripping at my skin. I try to scream, but all I can do is fight for the air escaping my lungs.

My body is slammed onto the ground. My eyes squeeze shut. I don’t want to open them. I don’t want to see anything around me.

I feel someone hovering over my body. “Open your eyes, Danica,” a booming, hissing voice rings in my ears. It’s a male voice, one I know I’ve never heard before. I’m sure of it. His fingers dig into my throat, and I’m lifted into the air, my feet dangling uselessly beneath me. “Open your eyes, little one.”

I shoot my eyes open. Scarlet eyes casting an eerie glow meet mine. I try to scream, but can’t gather enough air to do more than cry weakly.

The monster smiles viciously at me, exposing large fangs. His tongue licks over them, a hungry expression on his face that’s at odds with the tailored suit he’s wearing over his toned and muscular body. His jet-black hair is slicked back. He would be handsome if it weren’t for the terrifying, menacing air draping him like a shroud. He dumps me on the ground, and I grasp at my throat.

We aren’t in the cemetery anymore. Instead, I’m underground somewhere, maybe an old crypt if the funeral plaques on the walls are any indication. Surrounding us are dead bodies. They’re everywhere, so thick on the ground that I can barely see the dirt beneath them. Blood coats the walls and drips from the ceiling.

I flash my gaze to the strange scarlet-eyed man who’s in front of a red throne. He notices my attention and kneels in front of me. “You’ve taken something from me. I want him back.”

“I didn’t take anyone from you,” I cry out, my voice hoarse from being choked.

His laugh is low and vile, crawling over my skin like the vipers I envisioned in the cemetery. “Oliver left his home.” He tilts his head as he stares at me with those blood-red eyes, then clucks his tongue, almost like he’s disappointed at what he sees. “You don’t even know what you’ve gotten yourself into. No matter, though. I’ll kill you with my own hands regardless of what you know, just for what you’ve done. You won’t interfere with him any longer.”

“W-what? I don’t have anything to do with Oliver! I don’t want anything to do with him! I certainly don’t know where he is!” I plead. I don’t know why this man thinks I have anything to do with Oliver, when I’ve been trying so hard to get away from him and stay away.

He growls low in his throat, his eyes gleaming in fury. “You cast a spell on him. Like a little witch.” He searches my face thoroughly. “Why is it that when he’s near you, he can’t hear me? You’ve done something to him. For that, I will kill you and feast on your bones. I’m going to make it a very slow death. Painful. I’ll drain the blood from your body and fuck you as the light leaves your eyes.”

I gape in horror at him. His tone is as casual as if he’s talking about a coffee date, instead of my dismemberment and rape.

“But we’ll play first. I’ll start by killing your sanguis in front of you and making you watch him turn into ash, enjoying every minute of your descent into madness. I hear losing a sanguis is quite painful,” he comments conversationally. “As for your little vampire family, I’ll destroy them and spread the ashes across your naked body. And for your beloved little blood bag friends, I’ll sever their heads and compel you to fuck their still-twitching bodies.” His clawed hand caresses my cheek, my tears running over his talons.

I can do nothing but cry. I’m helpless here.

“Such lovely eyes. So expressive in that beautiful face of yours. I think I’ll keep your eyes as a trophy.” He wipes a tear away. “Shh, don’t cry. Let me help.” Without warning, he shoves his claws into my eye sockets and twists.

I scream, burning hot pain racking through me where my eyes once were. I’m thrashing, trying to kick him, to crawl away. I feel a slick, wetness sliding down my cheeks as my world goes dark.

I’m still screaming when I hear him laughing at me. “There, that’s better. Now you cannot cry tears—only spill your blood for me. I can’t wait to meet you outside your dreams, little one.” He clenches his hand around my throat again, squeezing, and I feel my spine breaking at the sheer force of his grip. I’m dying.

* * *

I shoot up in bed, screaming and clawing at my eyes and throat hard enough that I can almost feel the pain through my terror. Tears pour down my face, and I’m shaking uncontrollably.

Someone is on top of me, straddling my legs as they pin my hands. From a distance, I can hear a man shouting. “Dani, kitten, what the fuck happened?”

I keep thrashing, crying, and shouting against the grip.

The man sitting on top of me pulls my head into his chest and it against him. His scent washes over me, and I recognize the smell of this man. Chris. Chris is not a threat. Chris loves me.

“Shh, tell me what’s wrong. I’m here. You’re safe, kitten. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He tilts my head back gently, forcing my gaze to his. His eyes are wild and concerned. “Was it Amanda? Oliver? Please, god, kitten, say something.”

I’m paralyzed by fear. That dream felt way too real. I can still feel his fingers digging into my eyes, my neck breaking under the weight of his fist. My head is pounding.

“Baby, please say something.”

“He t-took my eyes. My neck… Oh my god.” I trail off into another wail, sobs wracking my body.

Chris moves off of me, and I reach for him blindly before I feel him settling behind me, wrapping his arms around me.

I breathe in his scent and rest my head on his arm.

“Who took your eyes and hurt your neck? Amanda?” he says calmly.

“No,” I whisper.

“Oliver?”

I shake my head slowly. Those glowing scarlet eyes flash through my mind again, and I shiver violently. “I d-don’t know who it was. A man. I-I’ve never seen him before.”

With one hand, Chris strokes my hair gently, his cheek resting against the top of my head. “What did this man look like, kitten?” His voice is so calm and soothing.

For the first time since I woke up, I can focus. I try to recall everything about the monster from my dream. “His eyes were a deep red, with a glow to them that made them look like they were swirling. His fangs were so long, way longer than, like, yours or any other vampire teeth I’ve seen. Black hair. Expensive suit. H-he took me to some underground crypt, I think that’s what it was, where there were bodies and blood everywhere. Just so much death.” I exhale shakily, and Chris’ chest behind me does the same. “There was a big red chair. A throne, I guess, I don’t fucking know.”

Chris stops moving, his hand pausing mid-stroke. He’s silent for a while before he speaks. “He didn’t say his name?”

“No,” I tell Chris everything that happened, from the black mist in the cemetery, to what the man said to me about Oliver—which still makes absolutely no sense. I don’t have any kind of power over Oliver. I never did.

After I walk him through my dream, Chris goes silent again, nestling his face against my neck. I feel him shudder against me. “This is really bad. The man from your dream? That’s Balor, kitten. You’re in worse trouble than we thought.”

“Why would a God be after me?” A tear falls, but I barely feel it. I’m staring straight ahead of me, but I’m not registering anything at all.

“I don’t know. He thinks you did something to Oliver. You sure you’re just a human?” I feel his smirk against my skin.

“Yes,” I snarl. “What the hell else would I be?”

“Nothing. It just doesn’t make any sense,” he murmurs. “Nothing makes sense.”

I rest my hand on my throat, fingers still feeling for the flayed skin and broken bones from my dream—I’m relieved to find unbroken skin. “I’m so sick and tired of having the life choked out of me and stolen in my dreams. I’m so done with having my own dignity stripped away from me. I feel powerless and beaten down, Chris, and I’m terrified. How do we even beat a God?”

Chris’ eyelashes rasp along my throat as he blinks. “I don’t know. I don’t think he can be killed. People have tried, but he can’t be staked or beheaded. He’s been doused in flames and walks away like nothing ever happened. We just have to keep running and hope we can figure something out. I promise, though, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.” He kisses my neck, and pleasurable chills roll down my spine. “Let’s not worry about him right now, though. He’s not here. It’s just you and me in this bedroom, kitten.”

“What’s your plan here, Chris? Help me go back to sleep again by making me come on your fingers? I don’t think that’s going to cut it this time.” I say with a snort.

“Of course not,” Chris responds mildly before he growls against my neck. “No, this time I’ll make you come on my tongue. Help you think about something else. Take your power back, little kitten.”

I raise my eyebrows at him in disbelief. “I don’t think that’s gonna help this time.”

Chris shifts out from behind me and is out of bed in a second. Retrieving the standing mirror from the corner of the room, he places it against the wall so it’s facing the bed.

I asked him to get me the mirror a few days ago so I could look at my full outfit while I got ready, but I’m not sure what his plans are for it now. “What are you doing?” I ask.

“Giving you your power back.”

He reaches his hand out to me, and without thinking about it, I place my hand in his and scrunch my face at him. “I don’t get it.”

“Stand in front of the bed facing the mirror.”

I do as he says, giving him an incredulous look in the mirror as I do so. His reflection shows him crawling into the bed behind me. “Stare ahead at the mirror the whole time. Don’t take your eyes off of yourself. Can you do that for me?” He breathes against my neck.

“Yes, but-” His hands slide under my tank top, and I glance down to see what he’s doing.

“Eyes on the mirror, kitten. Look at yourself. Nothing else.”

I nod, eyes raising back to my reflection. I can see everything he’s doing to me in the mirror. The fingers I can feel tracing over my body. His hands, slowly lifting my tank top over my head. My exposed breasts. I try to cover them with my hands, the visual of me partially naked in the mirror too much, but Chris pulls them away.

“Look at how beautiful you are. You’re so fucking perfect.” Chris trails kisses down my neck, to my shoulder, as I watch his every move in the mirror. His hands reach up, his fingers teasing my pebbled nipples, pulling on them gently. He rests his chin on my shoulder as he watches my face and my reactions in the mirror.

Desire races through my body, and pleasure builds low in my belly. I let out a shaky breath.

“Keep watching yourself, beautiful. See what I see.” His hands trail lower down my stomach, my skin tingling beneath his touch, the blood underneath my skin following the movement of his hands. His touch sends sparks through my body.

I follow his order, my eyes flitting back to my reflection, and I gasp at what I see. My jaw is dropped, and my mouth slightly parted. My eyes are hooded, dripping with lust.

His hands stop just above the band of my sweatpants. He drops a kiss to my shoulder just before he lowers them, along with my panties, over my hips. My clothes drop to the floor at my feet, and I stare at myself, fully exposed. Chris’ tattooed arms contrast sharply against my pale skin.

Chris groans in my ear as he stares at my naked body in the mirror. His hand brushes over the skin just above my pussy. “You’re a fucking Goddess. I’m going to worship this body for thousands of years.” He raises his hand over my throat and gently squeezes. “For eternity.”

Panic streaks through me as I start flashing back to my dream. To the air leaving my lungs, the sounds of my spinal column grinding to dust under Balor’s grasp. My heart starts racing, and I start to get confused, images of the torture overlaying the sight of Chris and me in the mirror. I claw at his hand around my throat, but he holds firm. “What did I say, little kitten?” His voice is husky in my ear, his thumb rubbing along my throat, each pass of skin on skin slowly bringing me back to myself. “Eyes on the mirror. You’re the one in control here. Focus and breathe.”

I flick my eyes back to the mirror. I can see the evidence of my fear throughout my body—from my too wide stare, revealing my dilated pupils, to the tense set of my shoulders. But I also see that I’m fine. It’s just Chris behind me, his tattooed hand spread in a necklace around my throat—his other hand gliding along my upper thigh. I feel the skin prickling in pleasure at his touch.

I focus on that sensation, and my breathing begins to slow. My eyelids flutter in pleasure at the press of his fingers against my skin.

His hand flexes around my throat, gripping a little tighter. My eyes fly open again, but the fear is short-lived. His other hand finally drops to my pussy, tracing idle circles above my slit. I shudder and moan, watching myself regain control and get lost in my pleasure, my desire winning over my fear.

I glance at my throat, ignoring the press of his palm in favor of memorizing the tattoos that cover his fingers and the back of his hand. Once I’ve committed them to memory, my gaze slides down to where his other hand sits at my pussy, drinking in the sight of the tattoos lining his hand and arm into my brain. I want to be able to see every tattoo on Chris each time I shut my eyes. I look back up to where his face sits next to mine, his eyes hooded.

We meet each other’s stare in the mirror. “You have the power. Tell me, kitten. What do you want?”

A soft moan escapes my lips as I watch him sink a finger into my soaking wet core, I watch both of us moan in unison. He slowly rubs my throbbing bundle of nerves with one hand, the other gripping more tightly around my throat. I can still breathe, and, with the torturous circles he’s making over my clit and the slow slide of his finger inside me, I can’t focus on anything but my own pleasure–my earlier fear has completely dissipated.

“Tell me what you want,” he growls into my ear, giving my earlobe a sharp nip.

My reflection’s pupils are still blown wide, but this time it’s from arousal rather than fear. “I want to feel your tongue on my pussy. Your head between my thighs while I watch you get me off,” I breathe.

He growls deeply, loosening his grip around my throat before rising from the bed. Standing in front of me, he brushes my hair from my face. “Eyes on yourself the whole time. Watch yourself come, kitten. Watch me make you come.” His voice is practically a snarl of pride as he commands my body.

I nod my head dazedly, following his lead as he places his hand between my breasts and pushes me down onto the bed. He sinks to his knees in front of me, seizing my hips and pulling me until my ass is at the edge of the bed. “Fuck,” he groans, his gaze fixed between my legs. “Your pussy is so beautiful, kitten.”

My breath catches at the sight of him kneeling in front of me. I love the way he looks between my legs–like a God about to ruin me in the best way possible.

“I bet you’re goddamn delicious, too.” His voice is lower than I’ve ever heard, almost distorted. “I’m going to devour you. Eyes on the mirror, baby. Watch me feast on you.”

I look back into the mirror as he lifts my thigh, trailing open-mouthed kisses down my thigh, licking and nibbling on the sensitive area there. I see his head move up to look at me, and I glance away from the mirror briefly to look at his face. His eyes are glowing yellow, his fangs dropped.

With a growl, he drives his face back towards my thigh and pierces my skin. I yelp at the sharp pain in my leg, but Chris is lost, gripping the outside of my thigh tighter as he drinks from me. I shove my hands into his hair and pull him against my leg. He grunts against my skin and keeps drinking.

Pain soon turns to pleasure, my core dripping. I moan, my head rolling back as his name slips from my tongue.

His other hand skims up my body, and he grips my nipple tightly, pulling on it. God, I need to see this. I lift my head up and watch the mirror, seeing the deep moans rolling from my throat as my body shakes under his attention.

After what could be seconds, or hours, Chris lifts his mouth from my thigh, licking the blood from my flesh. My body thrums with pleasure, and I’m surprised I haven’t soaked the bed with how turned on I am. He raises his head and starts to wipe his lip, where my blood is dripping down to his chin.

I seize his wrist and stop him from cleaning my blood away. “I’m in control,” I say.

He tilts his head, studying me, his true face still in my view. I trace my fingers over the bumps in his forehead just over the bridge of his nose, slowly glide my fingers down over his eyelids. I keep going lower, smoothing my fingers down his face until I reach his mouth. I trail my finger over one of his fangs. He growls, a deep rumble from his chest. That one sound turns me on even more. “I see you,” I say before I lean in closer and lick my own blood from the side of his mouth.

“Don’t do that,” he groans.

“I have the power, like you said. I’ll do what I want.” I run my fingers over his lips. I want to be familiar with every part of his handsome face. God, it’s practically a physical ache inside me to know everything about this man. I drag his face closer to mine, our breathing ragged against each other’s lips.

He surges forward, gripping my throat again and holding me in place, but I’m not scared this time. “Why won’t you let me kiss you?”

“Because I can’t kiss you the way I want to yet.”

I whimper. “Why not?”

“This is about you. Not me, or us.”

I bite my lip and fix my gaze on his. “Remove your hand from my throat,” I order seductively.

He does, and I bring his face closer to mine, placing my lips on his. Chris’ body freezes at the touch of my lips against his, a subtle stiffening of his mouth. A beat passes, then another before he groans against me, kissing me slow and gentle at first. But then, he seems to lose control, his hands threading into my hair, dragging me into him as he deepens the kiss. His lips part mine as he devours me, branding me as his. Shocks spark everywhere in my body, my body buzzing.

With a snarled, “Not yet,” he breaks the kiss and pushes me back, thrusting his face between my thighs and ravaging my pussy, sucking my clit into his mouth. I’m moaning his name loudly enough that the entire bus can probably hear it, tugging on his hair as he licks and sucks my swollen clit. I let out a cry when he slides two fingers inside me and hooks them, thrusting in and out of me forcefully, the pads of his fingers rubbing along the sensitive bundle of nerves on my inner wall as he swirls his tongue around my bud. He can find my G spot instantly now.

My brows crease as my jaw drops open, my breath sawing in and out as white-hot pleasure rolls through me, my back arching on a cry as I find my release on his magical fucking tongue. Throughout everything, he keeps the same damning pace of his tongue and fingers, wrenching every molecule of pleasure out of me.

I can’t hold back the strangled moans pouring from my mouth. My eyes stay locked on the mirror the entire time, just like he ordered. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, this beautiful man’s head locked in between my legs as he devours me like I’m dessert.

He slides his fingers from me and ducks his head to lick the entire length of my slit. His shoulders force my legs wider as he leans forward, causing me to lean further back on the bed, which exposes even more of me to him. His eyes glowing, he slicks his tongue just inside my entrance, lapping up the wetness inside me before moving back to my overstimulated clit, licking every inch of me clean. I’m writhing beneath him by the time he’s done.

He lifts his head and stares at me, his angular face tortured. “You taste so good, baby. I could eat you for hours. I want my face covered in your cum. But that’s for another time.” He stands, his gaze locked hungrily on my body. “I love you, kitten.”

I can’t say it back. Not yet. I don’t know why. It just doesn’t feel right yet, but I can feel that moment barreling down on me. “I know.”

He smirks at me, drops into bed next to me, and pulls me towards him. “Come here,” he says.

I slide under the covers and rest my head on his chest, my thoughts racing even though I’ve just had the most devastating orgasm of my life. I still don’t understand why he didn’t want to kiss me. He only did it because I forced it. But if he loves me, why won’t he kiss me? Or fuck me? Is it because I haven’t told him I loved him? Eventually, I lose myself in memories of each moment of bliss that Chris has delivered to me and fall into a deep sleep in his arms after too long of sleeping apart.