Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

GENEVA

G eneva paced the cold floor of the morgue, her mind tangled in a storm of conflicting emotions. Ash’s body lay still in the makeshift bed she’d arranged for him, the glow of fae magic faintly visible on the bandages wrapped around his wounds. She was conflicted—deeply. Every part of her training and experience told her that Ash was dangerous, a half-demon who could easily let his darker nature take over. Yet, here he was, bloodied and broken, seeking her help. And worse, something within her was compelled to give it.

She stopped and glanced at his face. His jaw was sharp, his skin pale from blood loss, but his features still held a rugged edge and quiet intensity that had always called to her. Ash had been helpful to her and her sisters in the past—had even saved Savannah’s life once—but that didn’t change what he was. She knew demons too well, knew their tricks, their ways of manipulating, and their constant pull toward chaos. Even Gage Tremblay, Savannah’s Rougarou mate, had admitted that the demon side of him was always close to taking control. He’d learned to manage it, to channel that energy, but it was always a struggle.

Geneva couldn’t help but wonder what it was like for Ash. He was different from Gage—more guarded, less in control, perhaps. The demon in him seemed closer to the surface, like a volatile force waiting for the right moment to burst free. What would that feel like for him? And could she trust him not to give in to it?

Her thoughts drifted back to Savannah and Gage. Their relationship was intense, passionate—far more so than Geneva had ever experienced with anyone. Savannah had mentioned once, in a rare moment of sisterly confession, that Gage’s demon energy fueled their connection in ways she’d never expected. It heightened everything between them, made their physical connection more powerful, more consuming.

Geneva swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry as an image flashed in her mind. She pictured Ash, not wounded and vulnerable as he was now, but strong, fully in control of his demon side, his half-demon energy coursing through him. What would it feel like to give in to that, to let him take her in that way, his power mixing with her own fae magic, their desires intertwined? The thought sent a heat rushing through her, a flush creeping up her neck.

No. She shook her head, trying to clear the image. This was dangerous thinking. She couldn't afford to get distracted by her attraction to him—not now. Not when the stakes were so high. She turned away from him, forcing herself to focus on the practical. Ash was wounded, and he had information about a demon trafficking ring. She needed a second opinion. Savannah would know what to do.

Geneva grabbed her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialed her sister’s number. It rang twice before Savannah answered.

"Geneva? What's going on?" Savannah’s voice was calm but alert, as if she could sense the tension on the other end of the line.

"I need your help," Geneva replied, glancing at Ash’s still form. "It’s Ash. He’s hurt—badly. He showed up at the morgue, barely conscious. I patched him up, but… there’s more. He says he’s stumbled onto something big, a demon trafficking ring."

There was a brief pause before Savannah spoke again. "I’ll be there in ten."

True to her word, Savannah arrived quickly. She walked into the morgue with the quiet authority she always carried, her fae energy swirling around her like a protective shield. Geneva led her to where Ash lay, unconscious but breathing steadily now.

Savannah knelt beside him, her brow furrowing as she inspected his wounds. "He’s in bad shape, but he’ll heal. Your magic helped stabilize him." She stood, her eyes narrowing in thought. "Tell me everything he said."

Geneva recounted Ash’s words, her voice steady, though inside she was anything but. She didn’t mention her feelings, the confusing pull she felt toward him. That was something she wasn’t ready to share—not even with Savannah.

Savannah listened, her expression growing more serious with each passing moment. "If what he says is true, this trafficking ring could be bigger than we thought. Soul trafficking is dangerous and deeply tied to dark magic. Whoever’s behind it is powerful."

Geneva crossed her arms, her mind racing. "But do we trust him? I mean… he’s half-demon. He could be playing us."

Savannah looked at her, a knowing glint in her eye. "Geneva, I know you’ve been wary of him, but he’s never given us a reason to doubt him before. And if he came to you, it means he didn’t have anywhere else to go. You have to ask yourself—why would he come to you, if not for help?"

Geneva’s gaze flicked back to Ash. Why indeed? He could have gone to someone else, couldn’t he? But he’d chosen her. Why did that thought send a shiver down her spine?

Before they could continue their conversation, the soft sounds of footsteps echoed down the hallway. Morning had arrived, and with it, the start of the medical examiner’s shifts. Geneva cursed under her breath. She had forgotten about the time, and now the rest of the staff were starting to arrive. She couldn’t let anyone see Ash like this.

"I have to hide him," she said quickly, glancing around. "They can’t know he’s here."

Together, she and Savannah carefully moved Ash into one of the private storage rooms, away from prying eyes. It didn’t help that, throughout the morning, Ash’s presence seemed to fill every corner of her mind. Even as she worked on the body of a murder victim, her thoughts kept slipping back to him—his face, his strength, the way he had looked at her in the moments before he lost consciousness. And then there were his flirtations, which had always left her feeling flustered and off-balance.

She glanced at the clock, the day dragging on. Each time she checked on Ash, he was a little more awake, and every time, he managed to flash her that same smirk, even in his weakened state.

"You look like you’ve been thinking about me," he’d said at one point, his voice low and teasing.

Geneva had rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the warmth his words stirred within her. "You’re delusional from blood loss."

"Maybe." He had grinned. "Or maybe you’ve been avoiding the truth for a long time, Duvall."

She had left the room quickly after that, her pulse racing, her body betraying her. Damn him. Damn that easy charm, that half-smile that seemed to say he knew exactly what effect he had on her.

By the time the day had worn on, Geneva was a mess of conflicting emotions. She couldn’t deny the pull she felt toward Ash, but everything about this situation screamed danger. Her past dealings with demons had left scars, both physical and emotional. How could she possibly trust him, no matter how much her body wanted to?

She stood in the dimly lit storage closet of the morgue, her eyes fixated on the still form of Ash. He lay on the cold, metal autopsy table, his muscular body bearing the scars of countless battles with demons. His dark hair fell across his forehead, and his chest rose and fell with each slow breath, the only sign of life in the otherwise eerie silence. She had brought him here, to her secret sanctuary.

As Geneva gazed at Ash, her heart raced with conflicting emotions. She was a demon-hunting fae, known for her strength and analytical mind, but in that moment, her rational thoughts were clouded by desire. Geneva had always prided herself on her control, but the allure of Ash's half-demon, half-human nature was too powerful to ignore.

Geneva took a step closer, her eyes tracing the contours of Ash's body. His lean muscles and chiseled abs were a testament to his rigorous training and the hardships he had endured. She imagined running her fingers along his defined arms, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her touch. The thought of him being so close, yet so vulnerable, sent a shiver down her spine.

She had always been intrigued by Ash's adventurous spirit and flirtatious demeanor. His playful banter and unwavering confidence had initially drawn her in, but it was the glimpse of his inner struggle that captivated her. Geneva understood the weight of being caught between two worlds, and she sensed a kindred spirit in Ash—a soul that craved acceptance and a place to belong.

As she stood there, lost in her thoughts, Geneva felt a stir beneath her fingertips. It was as if Ash was awakening from his slumber, responding to her unspoken desires.

His eyes fluttered open, revealing dark pools that seemed to see right through her. A mischievous smile played on his lips, as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking.

"Geneva," he rasped, his voice hoarse from the battle. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

She blushed, taken aback by his sudden awareness. "I... I was just checking on you, making sure you were recovering."

Ash propped himself up on one elbow, his movements slow and deliberate. "And what did you find, my beautiful fae healer? Did you discover something you weren't expecting?"

Geneva's heart pounded in her chest, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She knew Ash was a master of flirting, but his words held a hint of truth that she couldn't deny. "Perhaps," she whispered, her eyes locked with his. "But I'm not sure I should tell you."

Ash's smile widened, his dimples deepening. "Oh, come now, Geneva. I think we both know there's more to this than a simple check-up. I can feel your desire, and I won't deny that I want the same."

Geneva's breath caught in her throat. She had never been one to give in to her impulses, but the intensity of Ash's gaze and the raw vulnerability in his voice weakened her resolve. She wanted to explore this side of herself, to experience the pleasure she had only imagined.

"I've always wondered what it would be like," she admitted, her voice soft and laced with anticipation. "To let go of my inhibitions, to be dominated by someone I trust."

Ash's eyes darkened with desire. He swung his legs off the table and stood, his body close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from him. "And why haven't you?" he asked, his breath caressing her cheek. "You're a strong, independent woman, Geneva. You deserve to explore your desires."

Geneva's pulse quickened as she felt the warmth of his body against hers. She reached up and traced the line of his jaw, her fingers trembling slightly. "I've never met anyone who understood my darker cravings," she confessed. "Someone who could dominate me, but also respect my boundaries."

Ash's hand gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her soft skin. "I can give you that, Geneva. I want to show you how good it can be. Let me take control, just for a little while."

Geneva's knees weakened at his words, her body yearning for the release he promised. She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "Show me," she whispered, her voice laced with both fear and excitement as she shrouded the room and dampened all sound that might be heard from the other side.

Ash's hands slid down her body, his touch electric as he caressed her curves. He pressed her back gently until she felt the cold metal of the autopsy table against her thighs. With a deft movement, he lifted her, positioning her on the table, her long hair spilling over the edge.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his lips trailing kisses along her neck. "And I'm going to make you feel incredible."

Geneva arched her back as his hands slid under her shirt, exploring her skin with a possessive touch. He unfastened her bra with skilled fingers, revealing her full breasts. Ash's mouth closed around one nipple, sucking gently, his tongue teasing and flicking until she moaned softly.

"You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his breath hot against her sensitive skin. "I want to hear you, Geneva. I want to know what makes you lose control."

Geneva's inhibitions melted away as Ash's skilled mouth and hands brought her pleasure. She arched into his touch, her body yearning for more. He moved down her body, his lips trailing kisses along her stomach until he reached the waistband of her jeans. With nimble fingers, he undid the button and slid the zipper down slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I want to taste you," he said, his voice husky with desire. "Let me pleasure you, Geneva."

Geneva's breath hitched as Ash pulled her jeans and panties down her legs, exposing her wetness to his hungry gaze. He parted her thighs with gentle hands, his eyes dark with desire. Lowering his head, he ran his tongue along her slit, savoring her essence. Geneva gasped, her body trembling as he found her clit, sucking and licking until she was writhing against the table.

"That's it, Geneva," he murmured between licks. "Let go. I want to hear you come for me."

His fingers joined his mouth, sliding inside her, curling and stroking as he devoured her with his tongue. Geneva's body tensed, every nerve alight with pleasure. She cried out, her orgasm crashing over her like the Mississippi River in a storm, her juices flowing freely as she surrendered to the ecstasy he had unleashed.

Ash continued to pleasure her, his fingers and tongue relentless in their pursuit of her pleasure. Geneva's body trembled as she rode the waves of sensation, her mind spinning with the intensity of her release. She had never felt so exposed, yet so utterly fulfilled.

As she closed her eyes to surrender completely to the feeling, a moan came from the table, jarring her back to reality. She was jerked back to reality, and it was a jolt she didn’t need. Shaking her head to dispel the lingering feelings of arousal and need, she headed back to the lab.

She couldn’t seem to dismiss as easily what he’d said in her fantasy. The problem was the more she thought about it, the more she realized this wasn’t just about her. If Ash was right—if there really was a demon trafficking ring operating in the city—then they couldn’t ignore it. They would have to work together, despite the risks, despite her fears.

And despite the undeniable chemistry between them, which threatened to burn everything in its path if she let it.

As the afternoon light dimmed and the city outside grew restless again, Geneva found herself standing over Ash, watching him as he slept. He was healing, slowly but surely. She knew what she had to do.

But as she stared down at him, a knot of dread tightened in her chest. Because no matter how much she wanted to help, no matter how much her sense of justice demanded she act, one truth remained—getting involved with Ash Shadowbane was a bad idea. Bad. And yet, for the life of her, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from wanting to or figuring out how she was going to pull that off if she worked with him. But did she really have a choice?