Chapter 13

13

DEVA

Hot tearsof frustration streamed from my eyes as I stayed on my knees, my chest aching with the reality that I now had to face—a reality I couldn’t avoid, no matter how much I wanted to. I prayed to the fates that the story would ring false, that upon replaying her words I would scoff…but that wasn’t the case, was it? It was real.

I could feel the truth in my bones, and in some ways it made so much damn sense. I’d always been treated differently. Not better. No, I wouldn’t say favored or better, even as his Dead Doll…but differently. I’d assumed it was because I showed potential, but now I saw things from a completely different perspective.

I think…I think the thing that possibly trumped all of that, though, was my name. For so long I had hated the name Ayla, but now I felt like it was stolen from me. My mother had gifted me that name, and Astaroth had ripped it away only to bestow it upon me like a prize after a twisted game of proving myself to him.

“So fucked up. This is so fucked up,” I chanted, the walls trembling as I repeatedly slammed my fist down on the stone.

My shadow magic brushed my skin, and as I looked around I realized that I’d created my own darkened room of shadows. I could still feel the stone floor underneath me, but everything else was shut out. I’d never done anything like this outside of dreamscapes, and the amount of power I used would probably draw the attention of my men.

But there was a small part of me that hoped no one would find me. Not yet. I wasn’t ready to talk to my men about the darker truth of my past. I had assumed that my biggest demon was what I’d done and the role I’d played in my past, but it was so much worse than that, and I needed time to process it on my own.

Unfortunately that wasn’t my reality, and I should have expected it.

I should have expected Lazaro to hunt me down, especially after I ran from him.

“Little thief.” Lazaro’s rough voice echoed as his magical signature, like electric bolts, began to hit the outside of my shadowed walls. How could I hear him but nothing else? It was like he was inside my head. Hell, he probably was—our connection was far deeper than simple magic could forge. No, we were connected down to my heartbeat, a pulse that shouldn’t have existed.

Because of that connection, I knew immediately that this wasn’t the Lazaro I normally interacted with. It was almost like an undercurrent, a secondary personality that had been pulled forth. There was an element to his voice, an element to his magic, that was far more deadly than I had heard from him before.

“Deva.”

“Go,” I whispered harshly. “Please Lazaro, just go.”

“Let me in.” His words were soft but held a demand that I couldn’t deny.

That didn’t stop me from trying, though. I closed my eyes and shook my head, knowing damn well he couldn’t see me. “I don’t…I don’t want to be around anyone right now.”

“Deva, to be fucking honest, I don’t care,” Lazaro admitted, his voice strained. “You told me you would never run—you told me you would let us in. So put down the fucking walls. I know you don’t want to be alone.”

I did, though. Or at least I didn’t want to have to face or talk about what I’d just learned.

My eyes grew hot with tears again as I shook my head. “No. Absolutely not.”

Suddenly my shadow walls, which I didn’t have nearly enough control over, split in the center to allow Lazaro’s magic through. A cold electric field entered the warded space, lighting it up as my shadows closed behind him once again. Our magics clashed against each other, creating a phantom wind that ripped through the space, ruffling my clothes and hair, before I finally moved my gaze to Lazaro.

Well, a version of Lazaro…I mean seriously, he had completely transformed. Anger was hidden behind his calm facade of an expression, and his body was lit up in silver as he stood in front of me and crouched down, tilting up my chin with a finger so that I had to look up at him. But just like I suspected, my anger was still far too close to the surface, and the first words out of his mouth made me irrationally mad.

“What she said may not even be true.”

“But it is,” I growled, my magic tightening around me as I ripped my chin from his grip and sat back. “It fucking is, Lazaro. I can feel it; it makes sense.”

“Then it is,” he said softly, “but there is nothing we can do about it, Deva. It doesn’t change anything about what we’re going to do⁠—”

“It changes everything!” I stood up and turned away from him, tears leaking down my face. “Fates, it fucking changes everything. I thought I was abandoned. I thought that Astaroth was just some bastard overlord, but he’s my father. My fucking father⁠—”

Lazaro suddenly wrapped his arms around me, and I let out a frustrated cry at feeling restrained, my magic sparking out from me and making him grunt. “You need to let me go. I don’t trust my⁠—”

In a fast flip, I was turned into him, and the space around us shuddered as his lips slammed against mine in a hard, deep kiss. For just a moment my anger was reduced to a simmer, but then it roared back up as I realized that was exactly what he wanted, to pull me from my anger and my darkened headspace. I pushed him away, breaking the kiss and letting out a growl of frustration.

“Stop trying to distract me. I want to feel this. I need—” I needed to feel the pure fury that was coursing under my skin. I’d felt betrayed before in my life, but this hit entirely different.

“You don’t need anything except to calm down,” Lazaro argued, trying to approach me again. I knew for a fact that he was trying to not lose his own temper, and I would have appreciated that if I wasn’t so fucking infuriated.

“Stop trying to tell me what to do,” I bit out, unable to help myself.

“Fuck this. I’m not doing this,” he hissed, grabbing me again. This time he swept my legs from under me so that I was pinned underneath him on the stone floor. He captured my head before it hit the ground, cradling it, and then he slammed his lips to mine almost immediately. I whimpered against his demanding touch, and I felt his power wrap around me restrictively as I let out a shuddered gasp at just how intense his magic was in reaction to mine. It had a possessive, dangerous edge to it that felt claiming on its own, let alone when used to roll over my body in such a commanding way.

“Lazaro.” I let out a small sound of complaint. “I need to⁠—”

“No. Not another word. You need to listen to me,” he said, his voice containing such an intense sweep of demanding power that it had my toes curling. “Let me help you, little thief—let me calm you down. Let me⁠—”

“Want to help me?” I asked in a breathy tone, unable to hide how affected I was by his touch and almost fucking eager to break his rules. “Help me find Astaroth and kill him. Now.”

His entire expression shuttered, silver flashing through his gaze. “What are you talking about?”

“Help me find him—right now. Make him pay for what he’s done.”

“No. We aren’t going to just run in and kill him without a plan.”

“I don’t care about a fucking plan right now,” I retorted, my eyes tearing up as the storm of emotions inside of me threatened to blast out violently. “If you won’t help me, then I’ll go on my own. I’ll go right now.”

“Don’t,” Lazaro warned harshly, closing his eyes for a long moment. “Don’t fucking say that shit.”

“You don’t control what I say,” I insisted, pushing my hand against his chest. A dark chuckle slipped from his lips that had my skin prickling—I knew he found my words anything but funny.

“You can say whatever you want, but you’re not leaving. I won’t allow it.”

“You don’t get to allow anything,” I bit out. Lazaro examined my expression for a long moment, something shifting between us. His lips pressed down on mine gently, causing me to shiver before he nipped my lip hard, the contrasting effect leaving me almost dizzy.

“Lazaro,” I whimpered, my nails digging into his chest.

“I think I can find other ways to convince you to stay,” he said, brushing his nose against mine. “Take us somewhere, Deva—create a different shadowscape.”

A different shadowscape to be alone… Before I could help myself, I was imagining exactly what he meant—a dark room with a luxurious bed—and in seconds flat that’s exactly where we were. If it wasn’t for how damn heated I felt, I would’ve appreciated the ease in which I’d been able to do that.

“Perfect,” Lazaro praised. “You know exactly what you want, don’t you, little thief?”

“To kill him—” I gasped as his hands moved down to my waist and pushed up my shirt, exposing my skin to the air. My legs opened for him as his larger frame settled perfectly between them, his rough hands pushing up my sports bra and releasing my breasts.

“Are you sure that’s what you want right now?” Lazaro asked, his thumb rolling over one of my hardened nipples as his tongue darted out to tease the other, causing liquid heat to rush to my center. I nearly moaned at the sensation, and one of my hands slipped into his hair, not wanting him to stop. He groaned at my hard grip as he continued to tease me, his teeth toying with one nipple before moving to the other.

It was having a disastrously distracting effect on my body.

“You are so fucking stubborn.” He chuckled, his hot breath against my skin causing me to curl my toes. “Roll over. Now.”

“Make me,” I snapped back, the effect ruined by the breathless nature of my voice, and he chuckled darkly before doing exactly that. I landed on my stomach as his hands ran over my ass. I could feel energy coursing under my skin, and when he tugged my shorts and panties halfway down to pin my legs together, I arched my back, wanting his fingers and mouth back on me.

“So fucking perfect,” he praised, smoothing his fingers over my skin, causing shivers to break out over my entire frame.

His hand suddenly came down across my ass in a sharp, hard slap, a breathy moan of surprise slipping from my lips. The slight sting of pain was like an electric bolt to my clit, and I tried to spread my legs, wanting him to run those same fingers over my center, only to be stopped by my shorts.

The second slap and Lazaro’s deep growl when I tried to arch into him made me remember that I wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this or giving into him. My voice was barely convincing as I tried to speak up. “You can’t just do that⁠—”

“I’ll do it until you admit that what you’re suggesting is dangerous—that you’re trying to fucking run from me,” he said sharply, another hit coming across my ass. A full whimper left my lips as he groaned, running his fingers between my legs, clearly realizing how much this was turning me on. I needed more, though. This teasing was enough to drive a woman mad, especially when I could imagine how good he would feel inside of me.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Lazaro hummed, his soft voice contrasting the way his hand suddenly wrapped around my hair and pulled, forcing my back to arch and ass to press against him. “And here I thought I would need fear to turn you on, little thief. Instead it seems like a little pain and being overpowered will do the fucking trick. Is that what you need, Deva? For someone to just decide exactly how and when you need it?”

My breath hitched as I tried to look back at him, his large frame leaning over mine as he wrapped a hand around my throat, his voice knowing. “You’ve always been forced to take care of yourself, forced to make decisions, forced to fight or run. Let me take care of you. Let me decide what you need and when. Let me take control.”

I knew what I was agreeing to wasn’t to be taken lightly in any way, shape, or form. I knew that agreeing to this meant truly handing him control when it came to what happened between us…and I found relief in that possibility.

“Wherever and whenever I think you need it, little thief. Give me the words.”

“That’s what I want,” I admitted breathlessly. “I want…I want you to be in control.”

Lazaro’s chest produced a dark and dangerous noise as his fingers brushed over my nipple, pinching it and causing me to literally tremble. “You trust me that much? After this, I won’t let you take it back—I won’t let you go.”

I won’t let you go…

I didn’t want him to. Ever.

“Yes,” I whispered, holding his gaze. “I want…I need that.”

Victory shone in his expression as he released my throat and sat back, his fingers tracing the back of my thighs before lightly teasing over my wet pussy, exposed fully to his gaze. I whimpered as his large hand came to my upper back and pressed down, his words rough. “Spread your legs and put your head down. Now.”

I did exactly that, as much as I could with my legs being trapped, and the minute his tongue speared my slit—a primal sound escaping him—I let out a cry of relief. My hands gripped the bed underneath us, and I trembled at the sensation of his tongue circling my clit, causing my eyes to nearly roll back in my head. Despite the intense pleasure it was causing, though, my frustration was only growing at the absence of his length inside of me. I wanted—needed—to feel him pulsing in and out of me, claiming me.

“Lazaro, I need more.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He pulled back, his hot breath against my center. “You’ll take exactly what I give you until you’re ready for my cock.”

“I am ready,” I groaned, then gasped in surprise at the feeling of two thick fingers sliding inside of me, my center clutching around him. I heard his pants being unzipped as he pumped his fingers in and out of me, the sound of my wet heat echoing around us as his other hand guided his cock so that it slid right against my clit.

“Holy shit.” I moaned at how good the mixture of the two felt, the feeling replaced by momentary panic as his fingers suddenly retreated, thinking he was going to continue to tease me, only to be replaced by his cock right at my entrance. One hand gripped my hip and the other smoothed over the back of my neck, completely dominating my body.

“I hope you really are ready, little thief.”

Lazaro punched forward and buried his full length inside of me all at once.

I cried out at the sensation of his entire length buried inside of me right as his lunar magic ran over my skin and toyed with my body like electric shocks targeting my nerves. I felt my eyes water as he groaned, his cock flexing inside of me as I tightened around him, damn near close to coming after all of his torturous teasing.

“Fuck, you were ready,” he hissed. “Shit. You are so damn tight. You’re squeezing around me like a fucking vise. Press your ass back further and grip the headboard.”

I did exactly that, and in reward he began to fuck me hard. Really hard. I didn’t think he would slow down if I asked him, and I sure as hell didn’t. His pace was deep and intense, causing my head to spin as I slowly began to forget about…everything. All I could do was feel. I could feel him inside of me, feel his magic rolling over my skin, feel the way our connection lit up, fucking loving that he was dominating me so completely—that I had given him control. This was how it was supposed to be between the two of us. I didn’t understand it completely, but it both grounded me and had me feeling like I was fucking high on euphoric pleasure.

“Fuck!” I cried out as he slammed in particularly hard, a white-hot sensation of pleasure—nearly pain—causing me to shudder and climax around him. I could feel myself milking his length, and I whimpered at the way the tension from earlier just left my body, leaving me in a puddle of bliss at being used by him.

I fucking loved it.

“I’m going to need way more than just once,” he growled as he leaned forward so that his chest pressed against my back, my body flattening so he could push even deeper. I cried out as his teeth tugged on my ear, one hand tangling in my hair.

“You’re so deep,” I gasped as he again began to pulse in and out of me.

“So deep,” he agreed, his voice rough and uneven. “And you’re going to let me stay this deep, aren’t you? You won’t tell me to stop because you know I’ll give you what you need.”

He wasn’t fucking lying, and after coming around his cock two more times, my eyes were streaming with tears, my body a live wire of euphoria and relief. I had no idea how he was continuing without stopping. His body was like a force of nature, purely focused on bringing me pleasure by his own hand. My vision started to grow spotty, and I knew I was reaching my limit. But somehow Lazaro knew that as well—somehow he knew my body far too fucking well despite this being our first time together.

“Tell me where you want me to come, Deva.” His command was sharp and jolted me, demanding I answer. “Do you want me to come inside of you? On your fantastic ass? Or across your perfect fucking face? What do you need?”

“Inside of me,” I said immediately. “Please, inside of me.”

“Fuck. Absolutely,” he groaned, slamming into me with one final thrust.

Our lunar magic clashed together, and the moonstone inside of my chest fused with his, the magic blinding as it formed a bond that I could have never expected. My eyes snapped open in surprise as Lazaro flipped me over, reentering me. I stared up into his face, framed by silver-streaked hair, in awe before he seared his lips against mine in an intense kiss. The shadow space around us crackled with energy, making me tremble.

“You took me so fucking good. I’m proud of you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against my own. His cock was still hard inside of me, but he wasn’t moving, just holding me against him.

“Lazaro.” I let out a shaky breath, holding his gaze as I let my walls down completely, “I…I don’t know what I’m doing right now. I feel so out of control when it comes to this.”

“You are going to let me carry you back to the suite, get some sleep after your nightmares last night, and then we’ll figure this shit out. What you aren’t going to do is leave. Do you promise me?”

Staring up at him, I nodded slowly. “I won’t leave without you guys.”

His eyes darkened as he nodded. “Good. Now let’s get you back, little thief.”