Chapter 6

There are no new attacks in the weeks that follow, but all of my guys are still on guard. They barely even allow Braelyn to be alone with me for longer than a few minutes. It’s cute…but annoying, a word I never would’ve associated with my men before. I love them all, but there’s only so much I can take before I feel as if I’m going to explode.

Even now, sitting in the crowded cafeteria with my girlfriends, I can feel Damien’s eyes on me like a physical caress. No, not just a caress—a brand. It sears into my flesh like molten lava, leaving behind a mark that is distinctly Damien.

“Stalker alert,” Braelyn murmurs conspiratorially, nudging me with her elbow. I simply roll my eyes, not bothering to respond. I understand their paranoia, I honestly do, but I can’t even pee without one of them hovering over me. Do you know how awkward that is?

Rebecca snorts. “Girl, what I wouldn’t give to have a sexy hunk like that watching my every move.”

I slide into Braelyn’s eyes just as Haley gives Rebecca a fist bump. Rebecca is an older, robust woman with mousy brown hair, teal eyes, and a plump body. Her smile is contagious, nearly cleaving her face in two, and it reveals dimples on both of her cheeks. Haley, on the other hand, is slender, with golden hair that frames an angelic face.

“So you never answered us,” Haley presses, placing her elbows on the table and leaning forward. “Which one of your husbands has the biggest dick?”

Rebecca breaks into laughter, and even Braelyn chuckles. Jenny, on the other side of the Braelyn, smiles softly, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Err…they’re not… I mean, we’re not married…and, um…” I pretend to glance down at my wrist. “Oh, would you look at that? It’s time for me to leave.”

“You don’t even have a watch on,” Haley snarks petulantly.

“And you’re blind,” adds Braelyn, a smirk evident in her voice. She leans against Jenny’s side, and just before the two can exchange kisses, I slide out of her head, once more succumbing to darkness.

Shoving the remaining piece of toast in my mouth, I hurry in the direction I felt Damien’s presence.

Then abruptly slam into a hard body.

“Ow,” I lament, rubbing my bruised nose.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” an unfamiliar voice exclaims, sounding terrified. “I didn’t see you?—”

“It’s okay,” I assure him immediately, just as an arm snags around my waist and pulls me against a chiseled body. I tense instinctively before relaxing as Damien’s familiar arctic scent surrounds me. Smiling softly, I lay my head against his chest as silence ensues.

I slide into Damien’s eyes just in time to see the second man lower his head subserviently, a tiny whimper emitting from his lips. He appears to be young, maybe my age, and abnormally thin and sinewy. I can see every bone protruding from beneath his shirt. His garnet red hair is messily pushed to the side, one lock hanging longer than the others and brushing against his cheek.

“I didn’t see her,” he says softly, refusing to lift his head. The terror radiating from his pores is almost palpable, and I can’t help but sympathize with the poor man. There was a point in my life when I was just as scared. I would jump at my own shadow and pray for a death that never came for me. I can see all of those feelings and more in his azure gaze.

When a wet splotch appears on his pants, and the cafeteria roars with laughter, I turn in Damien’s arms, wrenching myself out of his head once more.

“Dam, it’s okay. It was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention. It’s okay,” I assure him gently, stroking up and down his arms. He’s trembling beneath my touch, muscles rippling. He’s an untamed beast, savage and unpredictable, and the last thing I’ll ever want to do is leash him. At the same time, I’m afraid that he’ll snap and kill this inmate simply because he ran into me. I’m not oblivious to Damien’s darkness. Sure, they try to hide it away from me, but I see him—the good and the bad. There’s a light that sparks inside of him, a light I wish to feed until it becomes a brilliant, all-consuming flame, one I can get burned by.

“Damien,” I press softly, cupping his cheeks and forcing his gaze to meet my blind one. “I’m okay. But I’m tired. Can you walk me back?”

Finally, my words seem to get through to him. His muscles gradually relax beneath my hands, almost incrementally, as he rests his forehead against my own. In a voice too low for anyone to hear, he whispers, “You’re the only thing capable of pulling me back from the darkness.”

My throat clogs with emotion, but instead of answering, I merely brush at his dark hair, soothing him through touch alone.

When he pulls away, I know I calmed the raging, prowling, feral beast. Maybe not completely—I doubt even I’m capable of that—but enough for us to leave this place without a trail of bodies in our wake.

“Apologize,” Damien growls darkly at the young man. I can’t tell what supernatural he is. A vampire, perhaps? No, that can’t be it. I would’ve seen his fangs when he got scared. Maybe a shifter or even a demon.

“I-I’m…I’m sorry,” he stutters out.

“It’s okay. Accidents happen,” I assure him. I hear his footsteps retreat as he scurries away before tugging on Damien’s sleeve. “Come on.”

Without a word, Damien intertwines his fingers with mine and leads me towards the cells. At one point, Damien’s room was a guard’s station at the very back of the hall, but now, that room belongs to me.

It’s there he leads me, opening the door and guiding me inside with a hand on the small of my back. I pop into his head once more just to get my bearings.

A single bed rests against the wall, its sheets so white, they practically shine. Unlike the rest of the prison, which has variations of cement and stone for flooring, this room has rich brown carpeting. Two dressers flank either side of my bed, and Damien’s acoustic guitar still rests against the far wall. This is the only room in the entire prison that has an en suite bathroom connected to it.

“Hey, are you okay?” I ask Damien tentatively as I move to sit on the edge of the bed. Instead of immediately answering, he lowers himself to his knees before me and wraps his arms around my stomach, nestling his head between the valley of my breasts. There’s something almost empowering about a man as strong and as proud as Damien kneeling before me. At the same time, it’s terrifying. He treats me as if I’m his queen and he’s nothing more than a loyal servant, but I don’t want that. I want him to see himself the way I see him, the way I see all of them—as my kings.

“You were brilliant in there,” Damien whispers, his breath feathering against my collarbone as he tilts his head up. I easily slide out of his mind, focusing instead on the way he feels. His addictive scent. The thundering of his heart.

“Brilliant? That’s a pretty badass word,” I tease, and I don’t need vision to know that his lips curved upwards at my use of the word “badass.” Abel’s been trying to get me to swear more often, and so far, my favorite swear words are cum stain and cock bitch.

“You’re so fucking cute sometimes,” he murmurs as he twists his head to plant a kiss to my breast over my shirt.

I gasp, my hands clenching Damien’s arms.

“You’re their queen,” he continues, sliding down my dress sleeves until my chest is bare to him. “You’re my queen.”

“I’m no one’s queen…” I pant as he begins to plant kisses up the arch of my boob, never touching my aching nipple. “I’m just me.”

“And that’s what makes entire worlds bow down to you, Angel,” he whispers fiercely. Finally, finally, he takes my aching nub in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. I moan, gripping his head and shoving my entire breast into his wet mouth.

“Damien…” I swear, with every tug of his teeth, fire races through my veins, until I’m drowning in blistering flames.

He turns his attention to my neglected breast, giving it the same treatment as the first. He’s not gentle. No, not this time. He’s rough and primal, and every bite of his teeth feels as if he’s marking me as his own. Maybe he is, in a way. Only certain supernatural species have fated mates, and mages aren’t one of them. Still, I can’t deny the burst of light that erupts inside of me at the thought of him marking me, claiming me as his own.

When he pulls away from my aching, needy breasts, it’s only to kiss the ring adorning my finger.

“Soon, my love,” I whisper, understanding his tender gesture. Soon, I’ll be tied to him irreversibly. He’ll never be able to change his mind.

“Soon, Angel,” he responds, pulling me in for a desperate kiss. His hands knead my breasts as his tongue devours my own. I fall into him, losing myself in his embrace, in him. Though I can’t see him, I can feel him everywhere, his touch a direct line to my pulsing center.

“Damien…” I plead as he pushes up my dress and slips my underwear to the side. One of his fingers rubs down my wet slit before teasing my clit. “Dam?—”

Before I can finish my needy plea, the door to the room is thrown open. Immediately, Damien’s presence leaves me, and I slip into his eyes to see him standing protectively in front of me, guarding me from the intruder’s view. He doesn’t need to worry, though, because Abel is standing in the entrance, eyes wide with panic.

The lust dissipates instantly at the emotions swirling in his gaze.

“Abe?” I question, jumping to my feet and slipping my straps back over my shoulders. He doesn’t make a quip about the position he found me in. He doesn’t even dip his gaze to my breasts.

“Nina, I need you,” he says urgently, stalking around Damien to grab my arm.

“What’s going on?” Damien demands, and through his vision, I watch as he slides a dagger out of his sleeve, holding it at the ready.

“It’s Cain,” Abel whispers. “He needs you.”