Chapter Seven

Aamon

The air in the study is stifling, with remnants of Thorne's scent and mine mingling into a thick perfume. I hadn't intended on being so accommodating to him after sating each other's sexual urges. As I carried his fragile mortal body to the bath, a tenuous thread of awareness dawned. Thorne requires protection from this brutal, destructive hellscape that I command. There is a necessity to protect him from me as well. There is no hope for his soul if he remains here tied to me.

My feet burn holes in the marble floor while pacing back and forth. Anxiety is an emotion I have felt very little of in eons. It courses through my body, causing my heart to beat furiously against my ribs. If they realize Thorne is here, then they will surely steal him from me, coercing him into a pact with them as a means to exert control over the continuous thorn in their side that I've become.

"Berkley," I whisper, urging the imp to my side.

I'm unsurprised to hear the pop as he appears at the edge of my desk, his tail pointed upright, flicking happily. "Yes, my lord?"

I pause my restless marching, allowing myself to inhale deeply as the weight of my decision settles on me "Berkley, we need to devise a scheme to get the mortal to break our pact. I've been menacing, and still he shows no fear of me." There is no doubt my closest confidant will aid me in creating the perfect plot.

"Sir, if I may be honest with you for a moment. I believe you may need to tell him the truth of things." Berkley perches himself upon the desk, where my scattered papers are neatly stacked as though nothing was amiss. "Eventually, Lilith and Luce will know he's here—if they don't already. The pact already tarnishes his soul. He is a lost cause, and we may as well say a prayer for him now."

A burning ember of rage simmers in my belly, though I know Berkley is only baiting me. He likely suspects I have developed feelings for Thorne and has pieced together that I have watched his family for some time. Agatha would never forgive me if I allowed her grandson to come to harm.

My fingers pinch at the bridge of my nose, stifling the rise of a migraine from consuming my head in a vise grip. "You know as well as I do that they knew the moment he set foot here. It's only a matter of time before they show their ugly faces here on my doorstep demanding I hand him over."

Berkley nods, twisting his mouth in thought. "I believe we need to have him watch you murder someone for crossing you. We can command some of the managers of the casinos to play along. If he sees how formidable you can be without all the kink involved, he could be persuaded."

Pinning him with a glare, I roll my eyes as he comments on my sexual proclivities even if I know without a doubt he's right. Thorne and I are both linked by our emotions, and it grows by the day. "I can be quite menacing if I truly want to be."

"Pfftt." Berkley snorts, his squawking laugh echoing through the room. "Sorry—sorry. It's just, of course you can, if it's truly needed, but we both know it's all for show."

"Get to work, Berkley. I want to have this little show tonight before dinner."

A serious mask falls over the imp's face as he nods curtly in agreement. "Yes, sir."

His resounding exit is the last thing I hear as I shake the final vestiges of anxiety from my limbs. This will surely work. I have to place my faith in those I command to play their part. This mortal's soul is on the line, and the imps know this is no place to be damned. My only hope is that this deters Thorne from continuing down this path of no return.