Chapter 20

Iwake up wrapped in blankets with a possessive wolf humming beneath his breath. I untangle myself quickly from the heated death trap and attempt to get my bearings.

Blinking sleep away, I cant my head to the side and follow the music. The second I’m in range, Bronson hooks an arm around my waist and deposits me onto his lap. An enticing smell permeates the air, and I slide into Bronson’s mind to see already cut pancakes lathered with syrup on the table.

“How long was I asleep?” I question as he stabs a slice with his fork and feeds it to me. The last thing I remember was verbally sparring with Cain and then Kai arriving. My dragon had kissed my forehead, promising me we’ll talk in the morning, before unconsciousness claimed me.

“Hours,” Bronson huffs, offering me another bite of pancake. I open my mouth obediently, and he slides it in.

“Thank you,” I say softly. “For taking care of me.”

His chest rumbles, and he mutters something nonsensical before hugging me closer to him.

We eat for a moment in silence. Well, I eat. He feeds me. I’ll never admit to anyone how much I like being taken care of. It’s a drastic change from the vulnerable little girl I had been only a few months ago, forced to survive on stale bread and dirty water. The girl who couldn’t trust anyone, because everyone had an agenda. The girl who trembled at her own shadow. The girl who embraced the darkness because the light was too much for her to bear.

“Where are the others?”

“I’m hurt, Angel, that you didn’t notice my captivating, magnetic presence earlier,” Damien answers dryly, and I startle. Bronson whips his head in the mage’s direction.

He’s standing in the shadows of the cell, like some sort of avenging angel of death and destruction. As always, he’s immaculately dressed in another pressed black suit and stark white shirt. His black hair is styled away from his face, the perfect combination of unruly and gelled.

Staring up at him… It’s the same as glancing at your feet, only to discover you’re thousands of miles above ground on a tightrope. There’s danger in his eyes, a savage type of beauty.

“The others are sleeping,” Bronson whispers, focusing back on the plate of food.

“And Mr. Scruffles?” I tentatively inquire. A snake pit has formed in my stomach, and the slithering reptiles are hissing at me, their venom a physical pain.

“Mr. Scruffles.” Damien snorts. “That’s a good one. But alas, your pussy is still alive and well.”

Bronson flicks his gaze upwards and growls. Though my vision of the mage is slightly askew, I’m able to see him twist his dagger between his fingers, the blade slicing at skin. Blood wells, a bright, startling red against his porcelain skin.

Alarmed, I jump to my feet and hurry over to him, easily slipping out of Bronson’s head and into Damien’s.

“Oh my gosh. Are you okay? Does it hurt?” The acid in my stomach churns like lava as I grab his hand and pull up his sleeve. Long gashes litter his skin—his wrist, his palm, his arm. I barely even hear Bronson’s warning over the roaring in my ears.

Without thought, I rip off the sleeve of my dress and wrap it around the worst of the scars. It’s the only thing I can think of to do. At the Compound, I often had to heal my own injuries, at least the ones that didn’t heal by themselves. I still have a hideous scar marring my spine from when one of my torturer’s cut deep enough to see bone. Though my skin knitted itself back together, the scar remains. A reminder.

“How did you know about my scars?” Damien questions softly. His eyes are no longer on his bleeding wrist, but on my face. I swear I feel stripped and vulnerable beneath his gaze. Though his eyes may be icy, they trail across my body like molten lava, setting me aflame.

“What?” I ask, using the pad of my finger to feel the raised, jagged lines. With his eyes intent on me instead of his arm, I’m forced to rely on touch alone. When my finger comes back sticky with blood, I use a portion of my dress to create a makeshift bandage.

“How did you see the scars?” His mouth is directly next to my ear, and goose bumps explode on my skin. My heart palpitates at his proximity, but I keep my face blank.

“I… I don’t know what you mean.”

Kai’s warning plays on a continuous loop in my head. He told me that I can’t trust the others, but surely, that’s not true. They have been nothing but kind and welcoming since I arrived…except for Cain. He’s been, for lack of better words, a butthole.

“You’re a strange girl, Nina Doe,” Damien whispers, a mixture of awe and reverence in his tone.

I drop my hand from his wrist and tilt my head back. Though I can’t see him, I know he can see me—see the sincerity in my cloudy eyes. “What do you mean?”

I also want to ask how he knows my court-appointed last name, but now doesn’t seem like the time.

“No one has ever cared about my scars,” Damien murmurs, and his words scratch at the hole in my chest.

Our moment is broken by the pounding of footsteps and then the presence of bodies surrounding me. One of the men—I’m assuming Kai—attempts to take me from Damien, but the mage actually growls. If I didn’t know what he was, I would’ve assumed he was some type of shifter.

Damien moves us both until I’m resting on his lap in one of the spare chairs, Bronson on one side of me and Kai on the other. Both men hold one of my hands, seemingly oblivious or choosing not to care that I’m in someone else’s lap.

I’ll never understand men.

Is this normal?

I sift through the minds present until settling on Cain’s. He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, as he surveys the room. My cheeks take on a rosy quality as I realize how I look to the outside viewer.

Propped on Damien’s lap, with his hands on my thighs…

Bronson tightly gripping one hand…

Kai holding the other…

I don’t know enough about societal norms to be able to tell you if this is normal. I know some friends can be more touchy-feely than others. Maybe that’s all this is.

“Awww. No fair. I want in on the cuddle orgy,” Abel pouts. He’s still in the entrance to Bronson’s cell, eyes flickering over the four of us, like he’s looking for a place to plant himself.

Orgy…orgy …orgy.

I could’ve sworn I’ve heard that word before, yet it doesn’t ring any bells.

Kai and Bronson both glare, but Damien offers the demon a droll look. “Only people who contribute to the orgy are allowed to participate.”

“I contribute!” Abel protests indignantly. His lower lip pushes out farther. “But only one of you is pretty enough for me.” He emphasizes this with a waggle of his eyebrows in my direction.

“Sorry. Don’t swing that way,” Damien deadpans.

“Not cool, man. Not cool. You can’t just reject the happy camper.” Abel points towards his crotch, and if my cheeks weren’t on fire before, they definitely are now. The only saving grace is that the guys—sans Kai—don’t know I can see them. “If the happy camper chooses you, then you should consider yourself lucky.”

“Wait, I’m confused,” Cain butts in. “Did your happy camper choose Damien or Nina?”

“And why do you call your cock happy camper?” Damien adds, amusedly. His hands begin to absently knead my thighs, and I resist the urge to wiggle.

“It’s more of an elephant’s trunk, don’t you think?” Abel jests. “Long and thick.”

“Yeah, those aren’t the first two words that come to mind when I think of an elephant’s trunk,” Cain grouses.

“Nina, say you agree with me, babe. Come on,” Abel pleads. My face? Pretty sure it’s one thousand degrees.

“How would she know?” Kai asks, still gripping my hand. “She hasn’t seen it yet.”

Seen what yet? Why don’t I understand what the heck they’re talking about? Does Kai want me to see his friend’s…happy camper?!

“It has its ups and downs…and sometimes, it’s a little hard…other times, it’s a pain in the ass…” Abel trails off before throwing his head back in laughter. “Fuck, guys, that was good. I’m a regular comedian.”

I turn towards Bronson—the only one not joining in on their antics—and whisper, “I’m confused.”

He leans closer, his earthy, masculine scent surrounding me, and replies, “Ignore him. I do.”

“That’s not nice!” Abel tells Bronson once his laughter has receded. “It’s bullying.”

Through Cain’s eyes, I watch Bronson roll his. I can’t help but giggle at his annoyance.

“Now, are we going to be serious? Or are we going to continue behaving like children?” Kai asks, flashing a pointed look at first Abel and then Cain and then Damien. My giggling increases as Abel drops his head like a child being reprimanded by a parent. Still, I swear I see his lips twitch at my laugh.

“Sorry.”

Ignoring his apology, Kai turns towards me and takes my cheeks between both of his hands. His palms are rough against my skin, but his touch causes fireworks to dance down my spine.

“I’m sorry I lost my control yesterday,” Kai tells me earnestly. “I should’ve stayed with you, asked you questions. Instead, I allowed my anger to get the better of me, and for that, I apologize. You’re the most important thing in the world to me, and I’ll do better. I promise. And I should’ve told you the truth sooner about what I am, but I was afraid. Afraid you’ll reject me or hate me or see me as a monster. Nina, I’m a dragon. An elemental dragon, to be exact. I’m different from shifters and werewolves, since I can transform at any time, and I only have one form. I’m so, so sorry. Please forgive me. Please know I will never, not ever, hurt you.”

My eyes water at his heartfelt apology. I didn’t even realize he had done something wrong. This is a learning curve for both of us, I realize. Before, we were nothing but kids attempting to understand this strange new world we’d been thrust into. Now, we are adults facing a similar problem. We have to understand the new game board, the new pawns, the new rules. All of us are going to make mistakes.

When his hands drop from my face, I interlock our fingers once more.

“I forgive you.”

I’ll always forgive you.

When Kai begins to smile, Cain quickly looks away, as if our shared happiness physically pains him. I’ll have to talk to the sex demon, and soon. I’m beginning to consider all these men my friends…maybe something more, though what that more is remains a mystery. The last thing we need is discord within our group.

“Tell us what happened,” Bronson demands gruffly. When I hesitate, Kai gives my hand a reassuring, encouraging squeeze.

“A councilman—woman—was here to see me,” I begin. “Alyssa something…I can”t remember her last name.” I have the urge to do something with my hands. Fiddle with my ripped sleeve. Pluck at my nails. Twirl my hair around my finger. At the same time, I don’t want to remove my hands from Bronson’s and Kai’s. Warmth migrates from where we touch and settles in my chest. “She believes me. She believes that I’m innocent.”

“What does that mean? Are you leaving?” Abel asks, and I hear both hope and dread in his voice.

Shaking my head, I say, “No. She doesn’t have any proof. Just a gut feeling. She told me a little about what Raphael hoped to implement in the supernatural world. Interspecies marriages and breeding, for one. She also mentioned that it’s a controversial subject.”

Bronson begins rubbing patterns against the back of my hand with his thumb, and full-body shivers take over me at the slight contact.

“It’s true,” he replies in his low, raspy voice. “Wolves are with wolves. Vampires are with vamps. Mages are with mages. And so on.”

My heart drops into my stomach at his declaration. For some reason, a reason I can’t name, that bothers me. A lot. Does he feel that way too? Does he only want to be with a wolf?

“So, she thinks someone opposed to those policies killed him,” Kai clarifies.

Abel whistles between his teeth. “Damn. Whoever it is must have a lot of juice. Raphael Turner was extremely fucking powerful. Like, he could turn water into wine type of powerful. I’m grudgingly impressed.”

Clearing my throat once, I wiggle in Damien’s lap and remove my hand from Kai’s. “She also mentioned you, Damien.” I poke his arm—the only piece of his body I’m able to touch. “Is it true that you tried to kill Raphael?”

I hold my breath as I wait for his answer. Damien releases a heavy, prolonged sigh, his hands tightening on my thighs.

“Unfortunately. It was nothing personal—I don’t give a shit about council politics. I was hired to do a job, and I failed. He had more security on him than the motherfucking president.” As always, he delivers his speech without an ounce of inflection whatsoever. I might believe him to be numb if his hands hadn’t tightened imperceptibly on my thighs once more.

“Do you know who sent you?” Kai asks eagerly, leaning forward.

Damien gives him a dry look. “Of course not. That’s not the way things work.”

“Could you find out?” Abel cuts in.

Damien taps a finger to his smooth-shaven chin, considering. After a moment, he gives a decisive bob of his head. “I can ask around.”

“So, whoever killed Raphael was powerful enough to take out highly trained and powerful guards,” Kai surmises. “As well as an extremely old and powerful vampire. Who has that type of power?”

I volley my head between all the men. I wish desperately I could contribute to the conversation, but my mind is swirling faster than a tornado.

“Lionel Green,” Cain cuts in suddenly, snapping his head up. I note, out of Cain’s peripheral, Abel ball his hands into fists as his face drains of color.

“The shifter representative?” Kai clarifies, and Cain nods once, the movement jerky.

“He hates Raphael and the policies. He believes every species should remain segregated from the others. He also voted the last ten times to reveal our existence to humans.” Cain’s voice is heady with loathing and something else, something almost akin to fear. It makes me want to wrap my arms around him and offer him my warmth. To fill up his cracks with what little light I can offer.

“He would be powerful enough to take out Raphael, especially if he had help,” Abel adds almost reluctantly.

“And luckily for us, we have one of his ex-workers hanging around,” Kai says with a manic grin. Ex-worker? Who is he talking about?

He doesn’t mean Mr. Scruffles, does he?

“Bronson, Damien, and Abel…you’re with me,” Kai says, and all three men stiffen.

“Why me?” Abel whines.

“Because we need your crazy to deal with someone even more crazy,” Kai answers immediately. When none of the guys move to do his bidding, he releases a low and threatening snarl that causes metaphorical bugs to skitter across my body. “Cain is more than capable of looking after her for a few minutes. Isn’t that right, Cain?” His tone leaves no room for argument. Either he agrees or suffers the consequences.

I don’t want to know what those consequences entail. Kai’s wrath is as vengeful as a storm, shattering houses and leaving behind dead bodies.

Cain sounds as if his teeth are being pulled out one tooth at a time. “Right.”

What have I gotten myself into?