Chapter Twenty

Nick sips from the glass, and I watch with unbridled desire as his tongue sweeps over his top lip, catching any remnants of the alcohol. Memories of how that tongue tore me to pieces ravage my brain. My heart thunders in my chest with the force of a violent storm as heat pulsates between my thighs.

Nick's nostrils flare, and one side of his mouth lifts. A wolf is too tame a creature to compare the man that stands before me. Whatever has happened between the two of us over this last year has transformed him into something else. Something savage and unholy.

A literal devil.

"Are you enjoying my party?"

I finally snap out of my stupor. "Party? Don't you mean fuck fest?"

He lifts a shoulder, swirling the contents of his drink. "Semantics. Besides, as the reigning president of Eleusis, I can do whatever I want for my birthday."

His birthday? I scan my brain, quickly trying to decipher how I miscalculated. It's been almost two months since the start of the semester, which puts us toward the end of October. October twenty-fourth, to be exact.

Fuck. It is his birthday, a fact I'd forgotten since he and I weren't on speaking terms during it last year, so it wasn't something I celebrated with him.

Actually, that might have been the night he found me drunk in the hallway and took me back to his room. Perhaps that was a celebration in its own way.

"Happy Birthday," I say unenthusiastically.

His eyes dance in amusement. "Thank you. Your excitement is palpable." He takes another sip of his drink. "Are you thirsty?"

"No."

His smile flashes his fangs, making his devilish appearance more sinister. "Vicious, beautiful liar." Nick's gaze lingers on my lips before it traces the outline of my curves through my dress, stopping where the short length meets my upper thigh.

I resist the urge to tug the hem lower. The man had me begging for his cock and then fucked me until I screamed his name, yet somehow manages to unravel me with a simple perusal.

"Why am I here?" I ask, disrupting Nick's salacious gaze.

His smile disappears, but mischief brews in his eyes. "I want you to answer some questions."

I laugh incredulously, despite that I'm still unnerved by his presence. Against my better judgment, I approach him. The Scylla is still quiet, which is a good sign, since lately it's been nothing but a writhing, snarling beast when he's near.

But being this close to him again ignites an internal war, one where my heart and body battle my mind. My brain screams that I shouldn't be near him, not just for my safety, but his own. Yet, my heart flutters like an absurd middle school crush. My body is so attuned to his touch I'm not sure I'm entirely in control of it when I encroach his personal space and my breasts brush against his firm chest. My nipples peak at the contact, becoming visible through the dress.

"And what questions of mine have you answered in the last…" I pause and shrug. "I don't know, fucking year that we've been together?"

"So, we are together."

I seethe. "You know that's not what I meant. We're- "

Nick steps into me, cornering me back against the railing. His entire aura darkens, and a low, menacing growl escapes his throat. "Say that fucking word, Rhi. I dare you."

Friends . That's the word he hates as much as I do. The word that has his rage brimming over the cusp.

I should be terrified of him. Gods, I should fight him teeth and claws to get the fuck away from him in this state. Instead, my toes curl in my open-toed stilettos at the dark dominance in his voice, and my nipples ache at the friction caused by him pressing harder into my chest.

I grab the back of the railing for balance, my back slightly curving beneath his body. Nick's lips are tauntingly close to my own, the warmth of his breath caressing my skin sending an illicit thrill straight to my throbbing core.

"Are you sure you're not thirsty?" The question simmers with underlying malice.

"I'm positive."

"I think you're lying." He grips my cheeks with his left hand. "Open. Your. Mouth."

His dark, commanding tone has me more than ready to oblige, so I part my lips. Nick brings the glass to his lips and takes a long sip but doesn't swallow. Instead, he thrusts his tongue over mine as he spits the liquid into my mouth.

My mouth suffers sensory overload as the alcohol washes across my taste buds before spilling down my throat, and I can't deny that I love the flavor of it. Smoke laced with a honeyed sweetness. Just like him.

His tongue wars with mine, assaulting my mouth like it has a score to settle. Which I suppose it does, but I'm not complaining. The feel of his tongue is a welcome aggression, and I don't realize how loud I'm moaning until Nick smiles against my lips. Some of the alcohol trickles from the corner of my mouth, and Nick laps it gently with his tongue.

"Are you enjoying yourself, little liar?"

True to the nickname, I try to do just that in order to spite him, but there's an odd pressure on my tongue when I attempt to say the word ‘no.' I try to force it again, and a sharp pain explodes in my forehead.

I slam my eyes shut from the pain. When I open them, I find Nick watching me with a sadistic smirk.

"What the fuck did you do to me?"

He shoves a leg between my knees, forcing my legs apart. "I told you I want you to answer some questions. You can't very well believe I wouldn't have some plan that restricts you from lying."

Nick drinks from the glass again, lifting his brows .

Realization pierces me like a dulled blade. He poisoned the alcohol, and somehow found a toxin I'm not immune to.

He offers me a sip from his glass. I press my lips together and turn my head, but Nick grabs my chin between his thumb and forefinger and brings my attention forward.

I eye the glass. "What the fuck is that?"

"Scotch. Macallan, to be precise."

As if I give a shit. "You know what I mean."

He shrugs, unbothered. "A simple truth potion. I knew it would work on you because it's not poison, similar to how you aren't immune to Dionysian Frenzy." He downs the remnants of the Scotch in one gulp and the glass simply disappears from Nick's hand as though it never existed.

Ignoring his latest magic trick, I ask, "Why are you unaffected?"

His tongue rolls over his bottom lip before he pulls it between his teeth with a sardonic smile. Nick lets his sinful mouth trail along my jaw, inching closer to my ear. He takes a harsh bite with sharp teeth on the tender flesh just below my earlobe, and I cry out in masochistic pleasure.

"You're not the only one with special blood, Rhi." The heady timbre of his voice sinks below my sensitive skin and stokes the fire burning between my legs.

Nick pulls back just enough to face me but keeps his mouth a breath from my own. A firm hand grips my waist, while the thumb of his right hand ghosts across my lips.

"Ever since you told me you are giving Jesse the honor of ruining you, I've wanted to ask…" Nick's voice is deceptively gentle, but I stiffen at the mention of my fake threat, especially because Nick's threat to remove Jesse's hands was without a doubt sincere.

My grip on the railing tightens as Nick's fingers skate across my throat in a soft caress, so at odds with the harsh contours of his expression. His mouth whispers across mine. "Did you let him touch you?"

All the air whooshes from my lungs. I draw in a ragged breath, any inhalation rendered difficult by his body crushing mine against the balcony.

I remain silent for a heartbeat. Then two. By the third, the pulsing in my head turns agonizing in its intensity, and I whisper shakily, "yes." The pain ceases immediately.

His tongue darts out across his lips again, a vicious sheen coating his features. Yet his fingers continue to indolently stroke my neck, applying only a slight pressure on the sides of my throat .

"Hmmm." His lips dance close to mine, the dark reverberation of that single word quickening my pulse. "Tell me, did you let him touch you here?" Nick pulls my lower lip between sharp teeth and copper washes across my tongue. The small burst of pain only heightens my arousal. I desperately want to clench my legs together, but Nick's strong, muscular thigh between them prevents me from doing so.

I don't even attempt to withhold my answer. I hold his punishing stare as I lick the blood coating my lips. "Yes."

A subtle clench of his jaw, and then Nick's mouth moves down my neck, his fingers dipping lower and lower until they rest on my left thigh. His lips settle on the soft curve of my neck and shoulder before he bites down again, and a desperate whimper leaves my throat. "Here?"

"Yes." My affirmations sound more like breathy moans.

His mouth then trails down over the peaks of my breasts, my nipples tight and aching beneath his tantalizing tongue. Nick draws one of the buds in between his lips, the heat of his mouth spilling through the fabric of my dress. An anticipatory thrill rockets through my blood and settles in the aching apex of my thighs. This time, pleasure overrides the pain when Nick bites down, and the feel of blood pooling around my nipple has me gripping his hair rather than the railing.

"Here?" Nick's voice drips with depraved desire dipped in wrath.

"Gods, yes. " I don't know if I'm answering his question or urging him with my pleasure.

Nick continues to swirl and suck on my nipple, and the ache in my core is so robust I grind on his thigh to create some - any - friction. My mouth parts and I throw my head back as the hand on my thigh travels upward and inward. The hand at my waist tightens to keep me still, and I nearly fall apart when I feel the sharp sting of his claws.

Nick's right hand, free of claws, inches toward my throbbing center, and I wriggle against him in an attempt to get those fingers inside me. His fingers climb higher and higher until they pause right before my underwear. Nick's palm flattens on my thigh and squeezes, his features a mosaic of fury and desperation.

"Here?" He asks through clenched teeth.

A lump forms in my throat at the expression of undiluted rage on his face.

"Y-yes."

A flash of black engulfs the gold before his eyes return to normal. Instead of withdrawing his hand, he pushes aside my underwear and teases me with the tip of a single finger.

"So fucking wet," he croons in approval, pinning me beneath his gaze. He drags his finger up, tauntingly, agonizingly slow. My lips tremble against his.

"Here?" It comes out in a low, inhuman growl that raises the hair on my skin and finally has the Scylla perk up in caution.

"No." A relieved breath escapes my throat as the word falls effortlessly from my tongue without pain.

Nick's own relief is etched across his face, and his surprise is evident by a dark, arched eyebrow. "No?"

"No," I repeat, lifting my hips as best I'm able beneath his punishing grip, imploring him to alleviate the need pulsing from my aching clit.

Nick mercilessly shoves two fingers inside me, and I arch my back as a heady groan pours from my lips.

"Were you this wet for him too?"

"No," I pant.

He ups his pace, adding a third finger. I nearly tear the hair from his scalp as I scream.

"Why is that Rhi? Why weren't you drenching his fingers like you are mine? Hm? Or maybe it was his cock instead?"

Nick lowers his mouth to my neck, and once again bites down. Hard. Scintillating pleasure builds at the pain coupled with his relentless pace. My breaths are rough and stuttered, but I gather some air to eventually reply, "No."

The pace turns punishing. My eyes close as a wave of pleasure crests and threatens to pull me under.

"Tell me why, Rhi. I want to hear you say it." My entire body shivers at his demanding tone, the steady current catapulting to electrifying when he nibbles the base of my ear.

I'm drowning in sensation, and I never want to come up for air.

"Why didn't you let him fuck you?" The question is laced with so much frustration and anger, which he's clearly taking out on me in the form of fucking me with his fingers.

All I can think about is that I wish it were his cock instead.

I buck my hips in tandem with the thrust of his fingers, my grip on his hair just as merciless as his pace.

"Because I didn't want him to," I pant heavily. The orgasm is just within reach. A knowing look of smug superiority crosses his face as I clench around his fingers .

"Why?" He curls his fingers and hits a spot inside me that pulls another scream from deep within my chest.

"Because I wanted you!" Nick doesn't let up as he wrenches the orgasm from me, and I ride his fingers like my life depends on it. The way I feel right now, maybe it does.

"Because you're mine," he utters in deep, guttural satisfaction. "And you'll come on my face, my fingers, and my cock. No one else's. Say it."

"I'm yours," I croak, my voice raw.

Nick withdraws his fingers and brings two of them, slick and glossy from my arousal, into his mouth. His eyes close as he sucks them clean, and a sinful moan pours from his throat.

"Mhm. Tastes like mine."

Still in a lust induced stupor, my gaze falls toward the enormous bulge in his pants, and I lose all sense of logic as I reach for the belt at his waist. His fingers weren't enough. Nothing is ever enough when it comes to him. I need more. I want more.

Always.

Nick easily captures both of my wrists with one hand. "Still a greedy little thing, aren't you?" He uses his hold on me to pull me into him hard and fast, and I gasp as he wraps one arm around my waist, keeping me flush against his chest. Nick releases my wrists, using his free hand to stroke the skin at my back, and trails his lips against my ear.

"A warning, little liar. I've been unraveling bit by bit, which should be obvious, given what you've witnessed lately." A shiver snakes down my spine at the gentle caress of his knuckles along the bone. "Whatever sliver of restraint I have left is barely hanging on by a thread when it comes to you. You said you wanted me unhinged, but I'm afraid you won't like me when I am, because the last shred of decency I have will evaporate if I'm inside you."

It takes an enormous amount of willpower to control the shudders that erupt at his words. They were meant to be warning, but instead my deranged self preens at the possibility of being at his mercy, of him losing control in ways I can't even fathom. In fact, my body begs and screams for it.

Nick must see the lust in my gaze, because his own darkens, and his mouth moves across mine as he speaks in a harsh, impenetrable tone. "Do you understand?"

I silently nod. Nick releases his hold on me, and my knees nearly give out without his support.

"Go."

Yet I don't move, an unfathomable thought settling in my brain that I have to steal whatever moments I can.

"Go, Rhi, before I change my mind and keep you prisoner in this fucking room." His tone leaves no room for doubt. He will do it.

An overwhelming urge to at least explain some of my actions these last months takes hold of me, perhaps because of Lyncus's earlier words: Prophecies never unfold the way you believe they will, Rhiannon. Remember that.

"I just wanted to protect you, Nick. That's all I was trying to do."

He tilts his head, as though contemplating something. Then, grabs the back of my nape and hauls me back to him, crushing his mouth into mine.

The kiss is a fucking train wreck, a clash of teeth and tongue, strokes of desperation and longing. Nick finally tears his lips away, leaving mine aching and swollen. He rests his forehead against mine.

"And now I'm trying to protect you." Nick draws in a breath, then releases it. "From me." He shoves me toward the door in one swift movement. "Go."

I turn back to him, "Nick-"

" Go," the demonic snarl urges me forward, but just as I reach the door, I look back at him one final time, a question burning my brain.

"Why didn't you ask me about the necklace? Or the prophecy?"

Nick heaves a weary sigh, then walks toward the table with the decanter of Scotch. A glass manifests in his hand, and he pours himself another drink. He takes a sip as he shoves his free hand in his pocket, a sly grin peering over the lip of the glass.

"Why would I ask questions I already know the answers to?"

As though invisible hands push me, I stumble through the door before it closes behind me, locking me away from him.