Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

EVEREST

Breathing heavily, I gaze back at Raven. “What just happened?” Did I say that aloud?

Raven smiles, and I’m shocked to hear his voice in my head again. “ We are mated now. Since you are mine, we can both communicate like this. I will always know what you feel and if you need me.” Guess that answers my question.

I think about that, not quite sure how I feel about it. I’ll never be alone in my head again. I’ll never be able to have a secret. I’ll never be able to sit in quiet seclusion without the nudge of another consciousness.

Then I smile. I don’t need secrets from Raven. Even if I had one, I’d end up telling him anyway. He’s become my person. And he’s been in my head for years anyway. There were never any moments of quiet seclusion. So, not much will have changed.

Out loud, Raven says, “I cannot read your mind. I can only talk to you and feel when you have strong emotions. That is usually when I was able to talk to you before I entered this plane.” He growls and finishes, “When you were feeling particularly hurt or upset, I could talk to you more.”

Now that I think about it, that’s true. When I felt lonely from not having anyone, I would hear Raven. When I would get abused by my dad or Mitch, Raven would try to make me feel better … by telling me to commit murder.

Even though Raven said he can’t read my thoughts, he knew what I wanted subconsciously. He knew I wanted the people who hurt me dead, even when I couldn’t say it myself.

Though I did draw graphic novels with the deaths of all those that made me feel like shit or mistreated me. Maybe if I ask Raven, he’ll kill them how I drew them. That would be life imitating art on a whole other level.

I try to climb off Raven’s lap, but we both shout when I move too much. “What’s going on?” I ask, holding tightly to him. I may not have had sex before, but I’m sure we’re not supposed to be stuck together.

“This is how I claim you,” Raven says tightly. “I have a knot that grows and locks us together. Along with our subconsciousness’s melding, we get linked this way after I orgasm.”

“Is this a demon thing?”

“It is.”

“Will it happen every time we … have sex?”

“Yes, if I finish inside you.” He pauses and looks at me. “Is that a problem?”

I shake my head quickly. “It’s unexpected but hot as fuck.” I giggle, laying my head on his shoulder and rubbing my hands up and down his back. He’s so hard and strong. I wonder if he feels like this when he’s in demon form.

When I ask, he laughs. “More so. I will show you when we cross to Xendail.”

Raven puts his hands on my ass and pulls me closer and I cry out, what he calls his knot pressing against my prostate. The gentle motion is like nothing I’ve felt before. My dick immediately hardens, ready for yet another release. “Oh, God. Fuck, more please.”

He rocks me on his knot, kissing up the column of my throat. I grip his horns, caressing them in time to his rocking. Raven bites down against my throat and I come again without warning, shouting hoarsely as I explode. He pulls away and peers down at me, a satisfied grin on his face. He continues to move my hips over his knot, pressing against my over sensitive bud. Just when I think I can’t handle another second, Raven lets out a deep grunt and his dick pulses inside me, a flood of his arousal coating my ass.

I collapse against his chest, breathing heavily as I cling to him. When I finally catch my breath, I swallow thickly around my dry throat. “Will it always be like that?”

“Always,” he mutters, his strong fingers drifting up and down my spine.

A few more minutes pass with us chest to chest, then Raven shifts under me. I feel a flood of his come leaking out of me and giggle. He hums against my throat, darting his tongue out to taste me once more. “My knot has gone down. Let me get you cleaned up. I will hold you while you take a short nap so you are refreshed for work later.”

Before we get out of bed, however, Raven summons a bottle of water and I take it gratefully, guzzling the cool liquid down. After I drink about half, I hand the bottle to Raven, who drinks the rest, a small smile dancing on his lips when he finishes it and caps the bottle.

We hop in the shower, Raven washing me carefully, smiling as he runs the cloth over the marks he sucked into my skin. He drops to his knees in front of me, turning me around so he can wash between my legs. Raven’s lips are gentle on my skin as he kisses my hip, dragging light fingers over where he sucked at my skin. “They look beautiful. My marks match your pale skin perfectly.”

I grin down at him, rubbing my hand through his hair, sad that he put his horns away. He said it was too much temptation for me to touch them and if he kept them out, I wouldn’t be getting to work today.

After he cleans me up and wraps me in a fluffy towel, he scoops me into his arms and walks me to the bed. Without a stitch of clothing on, he tucks me under the sheets and I’m out like a light.

I only sleep for about an hour and a half. When I wake up, Raven tells me the time and I realize I still have about three hours before I have to be in to work. We’ve been in bed all morning, so we get dressed and go downstairs.

Sighing, I flop on the couch, my hands twitching, wanting a pencil and paper badly. The supplies I have at home are probably all ruined. My father is the type that would fuck all my shit up because I left, thinking when I came back, he’d have a way to break me down. Besides physically abusing me, he liked to play those mind games. Find something I loved, fuck it up and watch the fall out. When he found out I liked looking at the comics in the newspaper and would collect some of them, he located my stash and made me watch him flush them down the toilet. Then he beat me across the butt with a belt for crying about it.

God, I can’t believe I made it there as long as I did. Two days with Raven and I already feel better, stronger. Dad is such a dick—I never would have thrived while I was there. All I could think about was trying to get from one day to the next, saving enough money so I could get from under his thumb and finally breathe .

While I’ve been here with Raven, I’ve been able to relax and enjoy life in more than a few snatches. Drawing was the only thing that kept my head clear for a little while when I was living at home. It didn’t even have to be anything fancy, just doodling would make me the happiest I could imagine being.

To stay sane, I would draw or sketch something daily, just to keep myself out of a deep depression and slitting my wrists to end it all. Sometimes, I had no other option than a quick doodle on napkins between tables at work. The dream of maybe using my talent as a real escape was what kept me going, and even now, not having anything to draw or sketch with is making me antsy.

Raven pulls me onto his lap, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Your mind is clouded with thought.” He kisses my temple gently and I shiver. “What are you thinking about?”

I sigh, burrowing deeper into his chest. “Drawing. I haven’t since I got here a few days ago.”

“For what reason?”

“No supplies,” I mutter, a touch of sadness in my tone. “When I was packing my stuff to go away with you, I was thinking about getting the essentials so I could leave as quickly as possible. Grabbing my meager drawing supplies after how I was treated when my father beat on me was the last thing I was thinking about.”

“Oh Everest. I am sorry,” Raven whispers, kissing my cheek, some of his strength seeping into me. Also his anger. I can feel it through our link, a red hot inferno that he’s barely containing. He’s trying to hide it from me, but he’s not doing a very good job. I’m sure it’s because he’s not used to someone knowing his emotions like he has mine for years. It really warms my heart that he’s trying to comfort me right now instead of flying off the handle. While I want Raven’s aggression when the time comes, right now, I want his arms around me, telling me everything will be okay.

“I didn’t have much,” I continue, swallowing past a lump in my throat. “Just a few pencils I found at the library and a sketch pad that was only a few bucks at the dollar store. But they helped me, you know?” I chuckle. “Of course you know. You’ve been in my head. You know how much drawing means to me.” Raven nods, kissing me lightly on the cheek. I give him a shaky smile. “I should have taken some of those supplies with me, is all.”

“What do you need?” Raven asks, tilting his head.

I shrug. “Not much. A simple sketch pad and pencils are enough. When I can scrounge up enough money, I want to get some of those graphite sketching pencils. They’re great to draw with.”

Smiling to myself, I tip my head back and close my eyes. I only drew with them once, when I was in art class in high school. It was one of the times I remember being truly happy at school. Art class was my escape, the only class that I didn’t worry about failing.

When I open my eyes, I gasp. Raven has an open case in his hands, chock full of all the things I need to draw—a sketch pad, the graphite pencils I was just talking about, charcoal sticks, pastel sticks, an art knife, blending stumps and more. I can’t wrap my mind around everything I’m seeing.

With shaky hands, I reach out to the case, running my fingers over the contents. “Is this … did you get this for me?”

He smiles, a sparkle in his coal black eyes. “I just did, yes. I should have thought of it before I brought you here. I am sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” I breathe incredulously. “Sorry for what? Raven, this is so thoughtful. I’ve never had anyone get me anything close to this before. Once when …” My voice trails off and my throat closes around an unexpected lump. Certain things I try not to think about if I can help it and certain things are buried deep in my brain until something pulls the memory from the recesses of my mind. This is one of the latter.

Shaking my head to push the thoughts away, I smile at Raven, though I’m not sure how it came out. “Thank you. I couldn’t have asked for a better gift.”

Raven searches my face, looking at me hard and long. I try to keep the emotions to myself, but I don’t think I succeed. He sighs and slides me off his lap. “Will you tell me what is wrong? I can feel your sadness.”

Biting my lip, I clutch the case to my chest, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over. “Yes,” I whisper. “Can I draw while I talk?”

“Anything you want, my sweet Everest.”

“Can I draw you?” I look up at him, my eyes bouncing around his face, wanting to memorize everything. He nods. “Your horns too?”

Raven chuckles, stealing a kiss before he nods again. “You are incorrigible.”

After Raven gets comfortable in a position facing me, he whispers something in his native tongue and his horns wink into existence. I can’t wait to go to Xendail to see them all the time. They’re so fucking hot.

I open the case and smile down at the supplies, not sure where to start. Sure, all sixteen of the graphite pencils are the same, but it’s more about having the option to choose which one I want. When I’m used to collecting pencils people leave behind, having a choice is a big fucking deal.

Once I select a pencil and open the sketch pad, I take a long look at Raven, trying to memorize the proper angles of his face. Then I put the pencil to the surface and drag it across the page. Holy fuck. The glide is smooth, the pencil crawling across the paper with no resistance. I’ll never be able to go back to regular pencils and dollar store sketch books again.

We’re quiet for a few beats, only the sound of the pencil scratching across the paper filling the silence. I smile at the thick line that makes up the shape of Raven’s chin. It’s such a strong chin, such a good portion of his body. I want to see what he looks like in his other form and draw him that way too.

I’m stalling and I know it. I told him I’d tell him what was wrong, but I don’t to talk about those memories. Although it’s a good memory, it’s slightly marred because I was left behind.

Knowing I can’t avoid it any longer, I look up at Raven to see his eyes boring into me. I sigh sadly and get back to my sketch. “I’ve always been an artistic kid. When I was younger, I’d draw everywhere I could. Little doodles in the dirt, on the walls, with my fingers in spilled ketchup. For the last two, I’d get a whooping from my father, but that didn’t stop me.”

Raven growls and I smile, knowing he’d have killed my father back then if he’d known how I was abused.

“It’s okay,” I mutter, glancing back up at him quickly so I can continue to draw. “My mother wasn’t the strongest woman, but she tried to help. After I was caught drawing on the mirror with soap and was sent to my room after a paddling, my mother slipped into my room with a flimsy notebook and some shitty colored pencils.” Again, the lump forms in my throat, not dislodging until I swallow at least three times. “It wasn’t much. The pencils were hard to draw with and the paper kept ripping, but it was mine. I cherished that book.” I chuckle, thinking about how I carried it with me everywhere, even the bathtub.

Then I sober, thinking about what happened to the gift my mother got for me. “Then my father found it. He’s never been a kind man. I don’t remember him saying a nice word to me or treating me like he loved me. Hell, he’s never even told me he loved me. Any way he could bring me and my mother misery, he did.” I blow out a long breath, losing myself for a moment in the curve of Raven’s lips, how they tip up when he smiles softly at me. I brush my finger over a bit of the sketch, smudging it slightly.

“I left the little book in the living room one day when I went to the bathroom. As a kid, I played in the water a lot, since I had to make my own fun. I had no friends, you see?” Raven nods, mouth set in a hard line. “Don’t frown, you’ll mess up the sketch.” Raven rolls his eyes but fixes his face into a neutral expression. “Anyway, I was in the bathroom too long, and my father stumbled across it. He saw all the colors and my shitty little pictures of rainbows and butterflies and he didn’t like it. Called me a little queer and beat me with his belt. I’m not sure if it was the rainbows or just me having something that made me happy that made him think I was gay. Even I didn’t know I was gay then. But yeah, he didn’t like it and he beat me. Then he beat my mother for buying it for me, since I rarely left the house. He knew I couldn’t have gotten the items on my own.”

“That is awful,” Raven mutters, hands clenched tight. I pause for a moment, staring at his hands. I’m not sure if I was seeing things, but I thought they were red. Probably not. It might have been a trick of the light.

“Yeah, it was.” I grin sadly, moving on to drawing Raven’s eyes—my favorite part about him, even though they have no color to them. Maybe that’s why. The deep blackness of them are not of this world. It reminds me that Raven was sent to me and me alone. He’s mine. “But there’s a happy ending of sorts.”

“What is that?”

My heart soars when I think about what my mother did for me. Even though she was as abused as I was, she tried. She couldn’t show me much love—Dad claiming it was making me soft—but she did what she could. That’s probably why her leaving me behind is such a hard pill to swallow.

Pushing on with my story, I say, “My mother snuck out and got me another notebook. She told me to keep it hidden so my dad wouldn’t see it because she didn’t think she could get me a new one. I didn’t know as much back then, but I knew it was special and I needed to protect it. Now, I think about how my mother risked getting another throttling to get me that book. She put me before herself and got me something that would make me happy.”

“That is a better ending,” Raven mutters. “I wish I could have helped you back then.” He sounds remorseful, like my abuse was his fault. “I was only aware of your existence, not of your circumstances. You were not fully revealed to me until you reached your adulthood.”

I raise my head with a lifted brow. “You didn’t know what I looked like until I turned eighteen?”

He shakes his head. “I knew your name, but that is all my father could glean of you.”

“What if I were ugly?” I ask with a smirk. “Would you have been so taken with me?” Though if I’m honest, I don’t think I’m all that good looking. I’m plain, not handsome and not ugly. Plain mousy brown hair, brown eyes and pale skin. I’m small in height and size. There’s not really much to me, honestly.

Raven slides over to me, running his hand down my face. “You could never be ugly, my sweet Everest. Even if you were not becoming by human standards, I would have never found you so.”

I smile at him, leaning forward to give him a quick kiss. “Thank you, Raven.” My mood sours as my story resonates in my own head. “I thought she loved me,” I mutter, my eyes brimming with tears. “She always did things to show me she did, even if she couldn’t hug and kiss me and cuddle me often because of my father, my mother showed me in more subtle ways. She’d take the brunt of my father’s rages, even when they were aimed at me. She’d come tuck me in at night, telling me a quick story before bed. She would tell me little stories about her life when she was my age. But when I was ten, she was just … gone.”

The tears finally spill over, but I wipe them quickly so I can finish my drawing. I’m almost done. I want to make new memories of a sketch pad since Raven got this for me and I’m safe now. If I continue to think about the days before Raven, I won’t be able to go forward.

I shake my head when Raven reaches for me—not because I don’t want his comfort, but because if I start crying now, I won’t stop.

Looking sad for me, Raven nods and squares his shoulders, holding still so I can finish his portrait. I smile gratefully at him and get back to work.

Fifteen minutes later, I have an extremely rough sketch of Raven, but one I’m really proud of. The shadows are deep, even though there aren’t any across his face now as natural light spill in through the living room window. But I think they add more depth to him, more of the darkness I know is inside him, but he hasn’t let me see yet. My favorite part of the sketch are his eyes. They’re depicted as being as black as they are in life, but there’s a twinkle in them, like he holds a secret he’s not willing to share just yet.

Even though I haven’t done many portraits, this one isn’t half bad.

Smiling, I rip it from the book and hand it to Raven. “What do you think?”

He holds it lightly in his hands, like he think he’ll rip it and gazes down at it. After a few minutes of him examining it, he looks up at me and smiles. “It is beautiful, baby. Thank you.”

Raven folds the paper in deliberate squares, muttering to himself. Then he crushes the paper in his hand, balling it up quickly. I gasp in shock, not sure what just happened. My lip trembles and a tear drops from my eyes. I was really proud of the drawing and Raven said he liked it. Why would he crush it like that? He could have at least waited until I went to work before he destroyed it.

“Baby?” Raven says, tipping my head up. “What is wrong?”

I pull my chin from his fingers, turning my back to him. “You didn’t have to lie.”

“Lie? I have never lied to you, Everest.”

“You balled up the drawing. You could have just said you didn’t like it.”

Raven chuckles behind me and a few more tears drip down my face. I’m not sure why Raven lying and being so cruel to my face hurts me more than physical beatings from my father.

He plants his hands on my shoulders. I try to shake away from him, but he effortlessly keeps me in place. “I am sorry for laughing. It was at my own stupidity, not at you. Forgive me, Everest.” I don’t say anything, still hurt. “I am new at this, not ever having a human lover or living on this plane. I just sent the sketch back to Xendail. The chanting you just heard? I was asking permission from the guardian of the gate of my dimension to allow me to send an item to my dwelling. See?” He turns me around and shows me his hands. They’re empty.

Wiping my eyes, I look around him to try to find the paper with his likeness on it, but it’s not there.

He grabs my hands, holding them tight in his. “I would never lie to you or intentionally hurt you. I should have told you what I was doing. With other demons, I would not have had to, so it was an oversight on my part. You do not know our customs or our limitations on this plane. Next time, I will explain to you before I do something like that.”

My heart flutters in my chest, thankful that he really did like my picture. “It’s okay,” I mutter. “I’m sorry for overreacting.”

Lifting my chin, Raven kisses me gently. “You did not. You reacted appropriately. I will do better, baby. I promise.”

I sigh when he kisses me again. “Can we get some food on the way to take me to work? I have about an hour before I have to clock in, so we have time.”

“Sure.”

I shower, get dressed for work and we leave the house. It’s a beautiful day outside, not too hot, not too cold. Just a cool day with the sun shining down on me. It’s a day I wish Raven and I could spend together outside, walking and getting to know each other. If my next day off is as beautiful as it is today, I’ll make sure we use it to our advantage.

As Raven pulls up to a local drive thru, I ask, “What are your parents like? You told me your father was a greater demon. What about your mom?”

“I do not know my mother. She was a breeder.” I frown and Raven laughs when he sees my expression. “It sounds awful to humans, but that is just their station. It is not shameful. It just is. All of our breeders are there by choice, not by circumstance.” I don’t question it. I don’t know anything about demons from hell, so I’ll take his word for it. “After I was born, she turned me over to my father, who raised me and my siblings. There are six of us altogether. Three males and three females. Everyone is mated, but me. Well, I am now.” He grabs my hand and kisses the back of it. “They are scoundrels, all of them,” Raven finishes, a smile plastered on his face.

“You love them,” I ask in surprise.

He chuckles. “Do not sound so shocked. I told you, demons are capable of great love. They are my family. I love them very much.”

Sometimes, I wished I had siblings so I wouldn’t be alone all the time. Then I thought about how my father mistreated me, and I’m glad he and my mother only had me. I don’t think I could have taken it if my siblings went through abuse too.

“I’d love to meet them someday,” I tell him, threading our fingers together.

“You shall. As soon as we go to Xendail, you will at least meet my brother …” he pauses and a look of concentration crosses his face. “I am not sure what his name would be in this tongue. In Xendailish, it is—” he makes a nasally hissing noise in his throat. “I guess it would be loosely translated to Phoenix. He and his mate live next door to me. He may not leave us alone when we visit.”

I smile, loving the sound of that already. It would be nice to meet more people and have some friends.