Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Fuuuuuuck.

Teague pressed his lips tight. Had it been naïve of him to think that it would never come to this? Maybe. But he hadn’t expected her to ever show up here—least of all at a time when a very telling event would go down.

Yes, Larkin was incredibly protective of those inside her circle. But despite that he’d failed to telepathically convince her that all was fine, he hadn’t for one moment thought she’d hurry to his side. Granted, he wasn’t entirely outside her circle anymore. But nor was he in it. It was more like he hovered on its border. Evidently, he’d been wrong to think that that would mean little to her.

As she steadily met his gaze, Teague instantly dismissed the idea of spouting denials. He had no clue what she’d seen while on his land, but it had clearly been enough for her to make all the right conclusions—her utter certainty was lined into her face. There would be no making her doubt herself.

See, this was why he’d kept his distance from her all these years. It was why he should have continued to keep his distance. But he hadn’t, and now he and his clan were fucked.

He understood why she’d feel compelled to relay what she’d learned to Knox—he was not merely her Prime, but her family. Nonetheless, for Teague, it would feel like a betrayal. Like she’d chosen Knox over him.

“That’s why I can’t find any record of your past,” Larkin continued. “There is no record. You’re all hell-born. You spent the prior portion of your lives in that realm.”

Tucker blew out a quiet breath. “Knew this was gonna happen sooner or later,” he muttered to himself, solemn. “Just knew it.”

Ignoring the sting of his injuries, Teague began pulling on his clothes, and the others followed suit.

“I get why you got yourselves some dogs and seem to have tamed some local ravens,” Larkin added. “You’re used to having animals.”

Humans had strong misconceptions about the Wild Hunt. In truth, it was a unit of hell’s army. A unit that tracked down and returned any souls who escaped from hell, which wasn’t an easy feat, considering those souls might have sought refuge in any number of realms. It was much like looking for a needle in a whole bundle of haystacks.

In that sense, they were the Dark Host’s bounty hunters. Their performance reflected on its strength, so every member had to be beyond good at what they did. As such, training was brutal, and mistakes were unacceptable.

Members of the unit—which always consisted of seven hellhorses, five bloodhounds, and five carrions birds—would serve for six whole centuries before retiring. At that point, they could do whatever they wished. Including making a home in another realm.

Larkin shook her head, her gaze still locked on Teague. “No wonder you glossed over any mention I made of how I’d like to meet your clan. You never intended to introduce me to them or to bring me here. Never intended to let me fully into your life.”

His gut clenched at the pinch of hurt in her eyes. Now fully dressed, he set his hands on his hips. “Why did you come here?”

Her brow flicked up. “That’s what you want to focus on?” A scathing snort popped out of her. “You’re not going to distract me this time, Teague.”

Yeah, he could see that. “You have to know why we keep our pasts to ourselves.”

She dipped her chin. “No one in this realm much likes having hell-born demons around. You grew up with a different set of rules, a different set of ethics, a different idea of priorities. As such, you’re often . . . problematic.”

Even Teague could admit that that was something of an understatement.

“You also tend to pull all kinds of crap and think you’re entitled to get away with it; that you shouldn’t have to answer to ‘lesser demons’.”

“That doesn’t apply to us. We don’t view Earth-born demons as less.”

“I know that. I know you. And I would have thought you knew me well enough to know that I wouldn’t hold where you were born against you.” That pinch of hurt in her eyes was back.

“I never thought for a second that you would.”

“And yet, you kept me in the dark. More, you had no intention of ever telling me the truth of your past.”

“I knew you’d feel obliged to inform Knox. That will lead to a shitshow, Larkin. He’s not going to like that hell-born demons are around. Because anything born in hell will take one look at him and know what he is.” Teague took a slow step toward her. “It’s something he strives to keep secret—and for good reason. As such, he’ll want us gone. And by gone, I mean dead.” He shouldn’t have to spell all this out.

Her brow creased. “Why would you think I’d feel obliged to inform him?”

Was she being serious right now? “He’s your Prime. As his sentinel, you need to keep him apprised of anything that affects him.”

“This doesn’t affect him.”

“It’s something he’d want to know.”

“Probably. But it isn’t something he needs to know. So I’m not sure why you think I’d expose you.”

Teague’s mouth snapped shut. Wait, what?

Again, there was a twinge of hurt in her eyes. “I’m a lot of things, but I’m not unnecessarily cruel. Nor am I someone who’d take a dump all over a person who matters to me. Which you do. Sort of. At times.” Her cheeks reddened. “Don’t read anything into it.”

Teague’s chest went tight. Damn if that snippily spoken confession didn’t get to him. And damn if she didn’t look so fucking cute, all red-faced and flustered.

His beast wasn’t the slightest bit surprised by her words, or by her intention to guard their secrets. In the entity’s opinion, both her declaration and demonstration of loyalty were only to be expected.

“Wait,” began Leo, raising a hand, “you don’t plan to tell Knox?”

Her gaze sliced to Leo. “No. It would be different if I thought you were a threat. But if any of you meant to blab his secret, you’d have done it long before now. You’ve given him no trouble. You’re not callous, self-entitled assholes who treat Earth-born demons as mere toys for you to play with and break at your leisure. So what reason do I have to warn him that you’re hell-born and, in doing so, condemn you? None.”

Pausing, she returned her focus to Teague and fixed him with a hard glare. “And don’t think I’m not pissed at you for believing I’d fuck you over like that.”

God, he wanted to kiss her stupid right now. It was going to happen. Soon.

“I thought he was only your pretend boyfriend,” said Archer.

“You don’t have to be in a relationship with someone for them to mean something to you,” she pointed out.

“You expect us to buy that you’d keep this from your Prime?” asked Saxon, folding his arms.

Larkin bristled, feeling her expression morph into a glower. “Yes, actually, I do. I don’t say what I don’t mean.” She paused to flick a look at the bird that kept repeatedly flying above them in a figure of eight. “If that raven shits on my head, we’re gonna have problems.”

A male who she knew from her research was named Leo scratched his temple and said, “It’s more likely to try stealing any jewelry you’re wearing. They’re all thieving little bastards.” At a loud screech, he looked up at the raven and lifted his hands. “I didn’t say that was a bad thing.” He returned his gaze to Larkin. “They’re touchy, too.”

She’d heard that hellhorses had an infinity for animals and could form such a deep connection with them that it not only enabled the hellhorses to communicate with them, it allowed the animals to understand them. Apparently it was true.

“So you’re really not going to tell Knox?” a red-headed male asked her, looking cautiously hopeful. Gideon.

“No, I’m not.” Even if Teague hadn’t mattered to her as much as he did, she wouldn’t have doomed him in such a way when it would be totally undeserved. “Regardless of what you all seem to think, I don’t tell him every little thing. That goes both ways.”

“This is no little thing,” said a guy she knew brawled in the Underground’s fighting pit. Slade Something Or Other.

“No, it isn’t,” Larkin allowed. In fact, a part of her still struggled to process it. “But it’s your business to share or not to share. Of course, if any of you ever suddenly decide to screw over Knox, I’ll return that favor in a fucking heartbeat and then hunt you down to execute you,” she warned. “But I’m hoping it won’t come to that.”

Silence reigned as the seven hellhorses stared down at her for long moments.

The one she recognized from her research as Archer extended a small, brown paper bag toward her. “Mushroom?”

She felt her nose wrinkle. “No, thanks.”

“Good. I don’t like sharing them.” He bit into one. “I’m Archer, by the way.”

Gideon raised a hand, a lazy smile now curving his mouth. “Gideon.” Gesturing at the others, he added, “That’s Leo. And then you have Tucker, Slade, and Saxon.”

Rather than explaining she already knew their names, she gave them a curt nod and said, “Larkin.” She then refocused on Teague, asking, “Why were shadowkin here?”

He didn’t answer. He unabashedly stared at her, his body no longer still and tense. Just the same, his gaze was no longer grim and distant. Far from it. There was a blatant and super-intense possessiveness there that made her demon grin and her belly do a slow roll.

“Come here,” he said, his voice pitched low and deep.

She felt her brow knit. “What?”

“Come here.”

Still unhappy with him for believing she’d expose him, she sniffed. “You want something from me, you better come get it.”

Teague closed the space between them, took her hands, and tugged her to her feet. Then he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her. Hard and deep and long.

She broke the kiss with a nip to his lip. “Don’t think I’ll forgive you in a hurry for thinking the worst of me. Asshole.” She would have slapped his chest if she hadn’t spotted the burns there before he slipped on a tee.

His lips canted up. “I do like it when you’re all huffy with me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I will not be distracted. Tell me why shadowkin were on your territory. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Help?”

“Yes. Help. You’re clearly dealing with a major situation here. If you think I’m going to overlook that, you’re out of your mind.”

He gave her hands a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “It’s nothing we can’t handle.”

“I’d imagine so. But I still intend to help.” She sighed in annoyance when he looked like he’d argue. “Teague, don’t make me hurt you. I won’t enjoy it—at least not a lot—but I’ll absolutely do it if you don’t start talking.”

Archer chuckled. “I like her,” he told Teague. “My beast wants to bite her, so I get why yours is having that problem.”

“There’ll be no biting,” she asserted.

Archer frowned. “We’d watch over you while you recuperated.”

“That isn’t really a comfort.” She turned back to Teague. “Talk, Black Beauty.”

Keeping possession of her hands, he backed up, pulling her with him. “Come with me. We’ll talk inside.”

Larkin let him guide her toward a slim ladder that led to a burgundy wagon. She ascended the creaky steps and then moved aside so he could join her on the small porch. Once he’d opened the glass-paned front door, he urged her inside.

She felt her lips part as she took in the beautiful, cozy interior. The intricate gold carvings were out of this world. And that china cabinet would look so good in her apartment, though probably not as good as it did here.

Turning toward Teague, she planted her feet and shot him a haughty, expectant look.

His lips twitched. “You really are mad at me.”

“Of course I am. You thought I’d send you to your death.”

“I didn’t mean it as an insult.” He settled his hands on her hips. “You’re an exceedingly loyal person, Larkin. Not to mention very protective of those you care for. And you take your sentinel role hyper-seriously. Can you really blame me for thinking you’d be inclined to report to your Prime that there are hell-born demons hanging around?”

No. But she wasn’t going to say that out loud, because she didn’t want to admit that he had a point—she wasn’t done being angry yet. She folded her arms and said, “I don’t hear you explaining why shadowkin were here.”

He sighed. “Sit.”

She settled on the built-in cushioned seat, finding it surprisingly comfortable.

Opposite her, he leaned against the countertop behind him. “Basically, they were here to kill me.”

Anger whipped to life in Larkin’s stomach. “Just you?” she asked, her demon instantly developing a total hate-on for the dead shadowkin.

“Yes. They were ordered to do so by the demon who’s presently Master of the Wild Hunt.”

She cocked her head. “Why?”

“He has very personal beef with me.” Teague crossed one ankle over the other. “Remember I told you about the half-brother who resents that I exist?”

“He’s siccing them on you?” What a little fucker.

“Yes. By all appearances, Ronin has very simply decided that it’s time I breathed my last.” A muscle in Teague’s jaw jumped. “He keeps sending shadowkin to do his dirty work.”

“Keeps sending?” she echoed, squinting. “So that wasn’t the first time you were attacked by them?”

“No, it was the fourth.”

“Fourth?” Her demon cricked its neck, fairly vibrating with the same fury building within Larkin.

“The first attack came on the night you and I agreed to pretend-date.”

She spat out a bunch of harsh expletives. “I get why you never told me, but it still pisses me off that I didn’t know your life was in danger all these weeks.” She’d known he was keeping things from her, but she hadn’t imagined this. “How do we get your brother to bring his ass up here so he can be dealt with?”

“By killing every minion he sends until he feels he needs to take care of the issue himself. Which is exactly what I’ve been doing. Tonight, my clan helped.”

“You trapped the shadowkin here somehow, didn’t you?”

He nodded, pushing away from the counter. “Black salt works a treat when it comes to them. It forms a shield they can’t cross, no matter what side of it they’re on. It serves to contain them, preventing them from disappearing through a shadow.” He moved to the cushioned bench. “We lured them inside the shield by creating a small opening.”

“And then you closed it.”

“Yes,” he replied, taking a seat beside her.

“Does Khloë know about all this?”

“She knows about my history. She doesn’t know about my current shadowkin issue. You’re the only person outside of my clan who does.”

Larkin frowned when he dragged her onto his lap so that she straddled him. “Idiot, you have wounds on your thighs,” she said, straining to get up.

Holding her in place, he shrugged. “I heal fast, remember? They’re almost gone.” He pressed a lingering kiss to her pulse that made it skitter. “They don’t hurt anymore.”

Larkin carved a hand into his hair as he licked a line up her throat. “We’re supposed to be talking.”

He slipped his hands under her tee and gripped her waist—they were so big, they almost completely spanned it. “I’m just getting more comfortable.” He lashed her earlobe with his tongue.

As the feel of his hot breath washed over the wet lobe, she almost shivered. If he was trying to distract her again . . . well, it was working. Dammit.

“What’s your plan for dealing with your half-brother when he surfaces?” she asked. “Tell me you have one.”

“We have one.” He swiftly peeled off her tee and dropped it beside him on the bench.

“Hey!”

“I’m simply making sure you don’t overheat.” His eyes went dark with need as they locked on her cleavage. “You really do have spectacular breasts.”

She pulled lightly on his hair. “Tell me about your plan.”

He coasted his fingertips along the swells of her breasts and then flicked open the front catch of her bra. “What plan?”

She let out a low growl.

His gaze snapped to hers, and he smiled. “Do that again.”

She fisted his hair tight. “Sullivan, you are testing my patience in a major way.”

“I can’t focus worth a damn right now,” he said, parting the cups of her bra. “Which is all your fault. If you weren’t flashing your rack at me—”

“Flashing? I’m not flashing anything.”

“—and I didn’t have your nipples staring at me—”

“They’re not eyes, dickhead.”

“—I’d be able to keep track of the conversation. Now what were we talking about?”

Larkin gasped as he filled his hands with her breasts. “I really think I might kill you one day,” she clipped even as she arched into his hold. “We were talking about—”

“Me fucking you hard?”

Her inner muscles fluttered. Oh, piss it. “Yeah. Yeah, that.”

His mouth descended on hers as he shot to his feet, keeping her pinned against him. His tongue plundered her mouth as he backed her toward the bedroom area. But then he stopped. Spun her. Pressed his front firmly against her back.

Panting, Larkin watched as he planted her hands on the edges of the doorjamb.

His lips grazed her ear. “Hold on.”

Ordinarily, she might have put up a fight for the heck of it. But though his wounds were healing fast, it wouldn’t be too hard to reopen them. She didn’t want to hurt him. So instead of protesting, she gripped the edges of the doorway.

He hummed, pleased. “Good girl.” With quick movements, he removed the rest of her clothes, leaving her completely naked. “Don’t move.” He stepped back, and then there were the sounds of shoes being kicked off and clothing being shed.

She waited, her body strung tight, her pulse racing, her nerveendings on fire with anticipation. Then he pressed his front against her back once more, and the skin-to-skin contact made her break out in a shiver.

His cock aggressively throbbed against her. It was hot and hard, and the sooner it was inside her the better.

Teague planted a hand on her stomach, his fingers spread, taking up maximum space in a very territorial gesture. “See that bed over there? I’ve never fucked anyone in it.” He slid his hand down, down, down, and slipped two fingers between her slick folds. “I’m gonna pound you into that mattress later.” He jammed two fingers inside her.

She jolted, her head flying back, her inner walls clenching and rippling.

“But right now”—he snaked his free hand up her body to palm her breast—“I want to take you right here.”

So hard he ached, Teague began pumping his fingers inside her. He groaned in the back of his throat as she moved into his thrusts, rubbing against his cock each time. He loved pleasuring her this way. Loved feeling all that wet heat pulsing around his fingers. Loved hearing her breath catch each time he zeroed in on a certain spot.

He mattered to her. The thought kept circling around his brain. It also filled him with a very male contentment that fed his possessiveness and taunted him to take, use, fuck.

He wasn’t sure he’d mattered to many people, despite having lived a long life during which he’d met many. It wasn’t a small thing to him that he meant something to this woman. A woman who intended to guard his secrets, protect them, protect him; who’d put his safety before what she knew her Prime—her family—would want.

Feeling her slick inner muscles tighten, he upped the pace of his thrusts. “Get ready to come for me.” Releasing her breast, he skimmed his hand down her body and rolled his fingertip around her clit once, twice.

She came, groaning hard, her pussy squeezing his fingers tight and bathing them in more hot liquid.

He didn’t stop thrusting, drawing out her release. “Yeah, keep coming.”

Once her orgasm passed, she slumped back against him.

He slowly withdrew his fingers and then sucked them clean. “Straighten up for me a little. I need to be in you. That’s it.”

He reached down, fisted his cock, and then wedged the head inside her. Gripping her hip tight, he began to push in. Slow, smooth, insistent. Until every inch of him was crammed inside her. “Hold tight to the wall. I’m not gonna go easy on you.”

A delicate sniff. “I don’t recall asking for easy.”

He felt his lips hitch up. “You might wish you had.” And then he powered into her. Harder and faster than he ever had before, burrowing impossibly deep every time.

She didn’t flinch away. Didn’t complain. She arched to meet his thrusts, her soft moans and hoarse rasps drifting through the air.

Possessiveness beat in his blood, fueling his pace. She felt so insanely good he wished he never had to stop. That he could be in her, taking her, twenty-four/seven. It would probably kill them both, but there was no better way to go.

He licked over the curve of her shoulder. “A bite mark would look good on you right here. My mark.” He put his mouth to her ear. “I want my venom in you. Want it flowing through your veins, where you’ll never get it out.”

Ignoring the part of her that was all for that, Larkin shook her head. “Not happening. Ever.”

He went still behind her, and then cold air wafted up her back.

Crap.“No,” she told the demon, “I can’t keep doing this with you. Biting is out. Deal with it.”

The entity nuzzled her throat, its chest rumbling with an animalistic sound of warning. The hand on her breast squeezed tight enough to make her gasp, and then she was being savagely fucked.

Larkin tightened her hold on the doorframe. It was that or go flying from the force of the thrusts. The demon took her how it always took her—with little finesse, with a sense of entitlement, with a mind selfishly focused on chasing its own pleasure. Yet, it was a ride that neither she nor her demon could help but relish.

It wouldn’t be long before she came. Her release was already close—a coiled force in her core that could explode outward at any moment.

She reared back to meet every powerful lunge, needing more, needing its cock deeper. If she could—

The breast it was holding suddenly felt a little too warm. Her skin quickly heated to an unbearable height, yet the pain was somehow pleasure. Oh hell, the demon was branding her. And quite honestly, that knowledge only shoved her closer to coming.

Her inner entity all but clapped, delighted. And as her skin cooled and the thrusts hastened, the force in her core wound tighter.

The demon fisted her hair, wrenched her head to the side, and bit into her shoulder. Hard. Driving its teeth down deep, piercing the skin.

And injecting its venom into her.

She hissed at the burn and came. Fuck, she came. The white-hot bliss violently thundered through her, making her eyes go blind and her mind go blank because the pleasure left no room for anything else.

She bucked. She screamed. She lost herself in the moment, barely noticing when the demon found its own release.

Finally, her orgasm subsided. Her unsteady breaths sawing at her throat, she leaned back against the solid body behind her. A tongue laved the bite as a rumbly nicker fanned her shoulder. The demon released her hair, nuzzled her throat yet again, and then . . .

“You sure know how to press my beast’s buttons,” said Teague.

“Press its buttons?”

“Like you don’t know that your ‘no biting’ statements only came across as a challenge to it.”

Okay, yes, she had known that. “I didn’t expect it to act on that, though.”

“More fool you for thinking it was safe to taunt a hellbeast,” he said, slipping his softening cock out of her. “Their minds don’t work like ours.”

“Your mind doesn’t work like anyone’s I’ve ever met.”

“Aw, thanks, baby,” he said with a smile as he scooped her up.

“It wasn’t actually a compliment.”

He carried her into the small bathroom. “Sounded like one to me.” Setting her on her feet, he got a good look at the brand on her breast. His mouth curved, so he seemingly approved. “You’re purposely not looking at it,” he noted. “Why? Are you pissed about it?”

That depended on what the brand looked like. “Your demon didn’t give me a third nipple or something, did it?”

He laughed. “A third nipple?”

“You have a weird-ass sense of humor, so it struck me that your entity might be the same.”

His shoulders shaking, he used a washcloth to clean her up. “It’s not a nipple.” He gently turned her so that she faced the wall-mounted mirror and then he cupped her still-smarting breast. “Look.”

Her eyes dropped straight to the black horseshoe-print on her breast. Her lips parted. It wasn’t like a drawing, no, it genuinely looked as if she’d had a hellhorse step right on her and leave a print of its hoof behind. It was basically a stamp of ownership. Something her demon rather liked.

“Your beast is pretty territorial.”

He hummed in agreement, sweeping his thumb over the brand, looking mightily pleased with it.

“So are you.”

His eyes flicked to hers, dancing. “Which makes us even.” He guided her out of the bathroom and over to the bed. A bed that turned out to be extremely comfortable.

“I’m staying here tonight,” she told him. Well, he made those sort of statements when he felt like it. It was only fair that she could, too.

“Thanks for letting me know,” he replied, echoing the response she typically gave him whenever he made the same declarations.

Recalling his answering phrase on those occasions, she repeated: “You’re welcome.”

He grinned. “I’m a bad influence on you and I can’t tell you how much I love that.” Smoothing his hand up her arm, he studied her face. “So. I matter to you, huh?”

Larkin felt her cheeks flush. She hadn’t originally intended to tell him so soon. But she’d blurted it out in a moment of anger, and now she’d need to be careful he didn’t sense that her wants had changed where he was concerned. That meant playing things down. “A little bit.”

Still smiling, he brushed the tip of her nose with his. “Two-way street, harpy.”

A grin shaped her demon’s mouth, who gave her a smug ‘Did you hear that?’ nudge. Yes, she heard it. She couldn’t lie, it hit her in the feels. It was also a relief.

“It doesn’t bother you that I’m hell-born?”

She frowned, not seeing why it should matter. “No.”

“What about that I was once Master of the Wild Hunt?”

“What about it?”

His smile widened. “Good response.”

“Speaking of the Wild Hunt, I have a lot of questions.” She was super curious about it. “First, though, I want to know what your plan is for dealing with your half-brother.”

He swiped a hand over his jaw. “All right. It goes like this . . . ”