I didn't know how to react. Was I allowed to pet him? Would that be rude? Why was that my first thought? Because he looked soft. Holy hell. I had no idea how to handle what had just happened.
His wet snout nudged my hand as he let out a low whine again, and I took that as permission. Running my hand through his black hair, I let myself feel something other than determination to not die.
I was safe.
The thought opened the floodgate of shock, and tears rolled down my cheeks. I bit my bottom lip, trying to keep myself from sobbing, and I sank to the floor, throwing my arms around the Hellhound's neck. The sense of security was my undoing.
What had I been thinking, coming back here alone after being repeatedly warned about how lethal that decision could be? How risky my existence at the Summit was in the first place.
After a few minutes of full-on snot crying on my Hellhound, my cries faded into sniffles, and he took a few steps back from me, causing my arms to fall to my side. Running my hand across my nose to wipe it, I struggled to understand what he was trying to tell me.
Hitting my bare feet with his nose, he let out a little woof, startling me at the deep baritone. I jolted, and he whined at the movement and licked my toes, tickling me this time. He jerked his head towards the door, and I surmised that he wanted me to get up and leave the room.
Taking a deep breath, I stood up and walked towards the sitting room, doing my best to not look at the elf with his throat torn out next to the door. My Hellhound walked at my side, keeping his head under my hand, clearly knowing I found comfort in his touch.
He herded me towards the bathroom, and I turned the light on. His head jerked towards the glass-walled walk-in shower in the back corner of the room, behind the free-standing tub.
Taking a few steps in that direction, I jumped slightly as I heard the door close behind me. Turning around, I saw that he had nudged the door closed before trotting over to me once more. Guiding me towards the shower, he whined at the entrance and turned around, giving me his back as he sat like a sentry, protecting me.
Despite my eyes stinging from crying, I couldn’t help but smile just a little at his actions.
My heart swelled, and I found that I truly did feel comfortable enough to undress and shower, knowing he would be watching over me. Something within me trusted him on a soul-deep level. He would defend me should anyone else come for me, and he wouldn't encroach on my privacy at this moment.
Thankfully, when my wings had come out, it had torn my dress in the back, making it easy to shimmy out of now. It pooled on the floor, and I quickly stripped out of my bra and panties, padding the remaining distance to the shower handles as I glamoured my wings again. They were too large to fit in here. Turning the hot water all the way up, I patiently waited for it to warm up, allowing the shock of the cool water to calm me as I did.
I stood under the hot water, basking in the scorching temperature. Willing my body to unwind and relax, I grabbed some of the vanilla body wash from the ledge in the corner, along with the cream loofah, and lathered it up. Working it into my skin, I scrubbed away until I felt like a snake that had shed its skin.
Unfortunately, I could still feel the man's hand around my throat as I had completely short-circuited, unable to formulate a thought at the end to save myself.
As I rinsed the soap from my body and set the loofah aside, I raised a shaking hand to my throat, lightly skimming my fingers along it. Wincing at the pain, I knew this was going to leave a large, ugly bruise in its wake.
One that everyone would see tomorrow at the vote.
Instead of being upset about that, I pulled my shoulders back and steeled myself to look into the eyes of the kings and queens of the houses responsible for this. I'd look them in the eyes and show that I wasn't afraid of them and that they had failed.
They wouldn't get rid of me.
They would, however, feel my wrath as I exposed them to the rest of the houses, ensuring they didn't get a single vote.
Something within me felt that, even if the others despised my hybrid nature, they wouldn't stand for someone stooping to assassinations in order to take a rival out. This was supposed to be a title that was earned, not through violence, but through true leadership. The Supreme was supposed to be someone who would rule without favoritism and who wanted what was best for the realm—not just their own territory.
With the title came a boost of powers and wealth. Two things that easily shrouded people’s minds with greed.
I'd be damned if I allowed them to succeed in taking that. I'd say hell would freeze over—but it was less likely that the devil would wake up, so I'd go with that.
The devil would wake up before those vile people took the Supreme seat.
Satisfied that I had calmed down enough and had a good grip on my mental state, I turned the shower off and smiled as I saw my Hellhound still staring the door down with intensity, as if daring someone to come in.
Grabbing a towel from the bar on the wall just outside the glass enclosure, I wrapped it around myself and said, "Thank you, Damien. I need to grab clothes from my...bedroom."
I didn't want to go in there and see the massacre all over again, but I couldn't just live in a towel for the remainder of my stay here. Apparently, he didn't want me to go in there either, as his gaze whipped to my own and he shook his head side to side, giving me a firm but gentle woof.
I thought he was telling me to stay there, so I nodded at him. What I didn't expect was for him to shift into a butt naked Damien in all of his glory.
Tanned muscles and a hard length stood before me, showcasing a tribal tattoo that sprawled across his chest, piquing my interest, but he didn't say a word as he left the bathroom. I most definitely checked his rounded ass out as he did so. Damn. He was so insanely muscular.
Curious, I walked to the entrance of the bathroom and jumped as he rounded the corner at the same time with clothes in his hand. Shoving them at me, he instructed roughly, "Put these on and then meet me back out here."
Stepping back, I was shocked as he shut the door and left me alone to change in private. He was such a damn gentleman.
Quickly pulling on the black leggings and red tank top he’d picked out, I opened the door and smiled when I saw he was in Hellhound form once more, sitting and waiting with his back to the door. "I'm decent," I called out softly to let him know it was okay to look at me.
Instead, he trotted to the door that would leave my quarters, and I trailed after him. He hit the door handle with his nose, and I took the cue and opened it for him. Taking a few steps out and looking side to side in the hallway, likely clearing it for safety, he let out a yip and stepped out fully.
I followed him, and we took up the comforting stance of the side of him being glued to me with my hand on his head. He guided us through hallways I hadn't been down and stopped in front of a room. I opened the door, letting him walk in first and following closely behind. Shutting the door and locking it, I was surprised to see the room beyond was quaint and small, with a bed at the far back center, some chairs to lounge in, and a bathroom to my right as I stepped in further.
This must be his bedroom, but why was he separate from his house?
He jumped up onto the bed and motioned with his head for me to come over. Padding over, I pulled back the ivory sheets and scooted towards the center, settling into the pillows. Maybe I should have turned the lights off, but I had a feeling I wouldn't have been able to sleep if I did.
A small tremor went through my body at the idea of closing my eyes and trying to go to sleep after everything that had happened. I still felt on edge.
Damien must have felt the tremor or sensed my unease because he walked over and tucked himself into my side, curling up and putting his head on my stomach. He was cuddling me but still had his head turned towards the door, refusing to give up his job as protector.
Running my hand over his head, I took a deep breath and felt the anxiety easing. I still wasn't sure if I'd be able to s
leep, but within a few minutes, I was out.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nico
“What the fuck is wrong with all of you?” The supposedly hot-headed hellhound demands, glaring at all of us with a fair amount of disgust. I say fair, because how we were acting as a group was absolutely ridiculous. It didn’t stop it from happening though.
That was a fantastic question. What was wrong with us?
I would love to say I could blame Ama for this, but I knew the truth. This was on us.
Damien broke away from the chaos of our current predicament, jogging after Ama and leaving me staring in the wake of his words. My eyes darted back to where Drayven and Finias were exchanging barbs while Colt and Adrien attempted to gain some semblance of control.
I was missing something here.
I would never claim to be friends with these men, but I knew them well enough to know that this wasn’t normal behavior for any of them. There were pieces of this picture and what had happened tonight that I wasn’t being fully given.
My gaze found my father, who was watching all of this with calm amusement. My mother, on the other hand, wasn’t even looking at the fight. Instead, her eyes were narrowed on the door behind me. Normally, they would have found this type of thing exciting, but instead, they looked…Well, I didn’t know how to describe it. There was an edge of both disappointment and expectation, as if they were waiting on something.
A gut feeling told me to go after Ama. No. She wouldn’t want anything to do with us after tonight. The woman had already felt out of place at the Summit, and now we had caused a far larger issue for her, making her a source of entertainment because of the brutal way we’d been fighting over here.
Damn. We had really fucked up.
My chest squeezed, feeling a level of concern for Ama that I’d never felt for anyone else. I wasn’t good when it came to emotion, and when it came to physical intimacy, I usually kept any emotion far away from it. I felt a lot for Ama, though—far too much for the time I’d known her—and it was causing me anxiety. I cared about what she thought about tonight. I cared about whether she was hurt or angry. Shit. I cared far too much for her to be just some woman I was attracted to.
I watched as my father turned from the scene, and it was like the tension from the moment completely popped, exploding like a water balloon. I’d been so caught up in the moment, I hadn’t even realized how present his magic had been until it was gone. Gone, and leaving in its wake the realization that my father had something to do with the emotional turmoil that had affected the group. Why would he do that? For fucking kicks? I mean, the man was a sick bastard, but that was ridiculous even for him.
Walking towards the others, I spoke harshly, “Cut the shit. Ama is gone. She’s gone because of us.” Without another word, I walked towards my family table, smoothing out my emotions so that my parents wouldn’t notice how concerned I was about Ama. I wouldn’t call my parents abusive, but they were definitely emotionally manipulative. Anything I cared about was held on the line if I wasn’t doing what they wanted.
“Good job, Nicolas.” My mother offered me a pleased smile. I blinked at her in confusion as her grin turned into something that was nearly evil.
“Seducing her, causing chaos amongst the others, very tactful,” she praised as my father kept his eyes over my shoulder on the rest of the ballroom. For someone who had been acting so light-hearted and nearly tipsy earlier in the night, he seemed almost eerily alert now. I really didn’t like how he was acting, and that prickle of concern for Ama continued to grow into something that caused my throat to tighten with worry.
“I don’t consider it a job well done because the girl is still very much at large and perfectly healthy,” my father clipped, causing my chest to tighten. What the hell was he saying?
“What?” My voice was rough and almost choked.
His smile grew as he offered me a sinister smile, “Come now, Nicolas, you didn’t think we would ever let that hybrid whore make it to the voting ceremony, did you?”
Fuck.
“Of course not,” I mumbled, staring at the table and counting to ten before looking up, finding both of my parents already entertained by other members of our house. Mumbling an excuse about using the bathroom, I immediately crossed the room back towards where the other guys were, the fight seeming to have de-escalated but the anger still prominent.
“Something is wrong,” I announced immediately, and they all snapped their gazes my way. I didn’t wait for them to respond before I turned down the long hall and began to make my way towards the House of Death’s quarters.
“What the fuck do you mean, ‘something is wrong’?” Drayven’s hand on my shoulder had me turning around and stepping into his space, a low rumble breaking from my chest.
“Do not fucking touch me,” I snapped, feeling my anger at this situation peak. “I am telling you something is fucking wrong. Ama is in danger.”
That last part seemed to be all I needed to say for the four of them to follow me. I had never been to the House of Death’s suites, but the faint scent of Ama’s Succubus magic was one I wouldn’t soon forget. I turned a corner and, as we reached the staircase, stopped momentarily, narrowing my eyes on Samuel, of all people.
“Prince Nicolas.” He offered me a good-natured smile from where he leaned against the railing, smoking a cigarette and looking completely at ease. The man was a complete slime ball, so the fact that he wasn’t in the ballroom meant he was undoubtedly up to no good.
I didn’t offer him a greeting in return, simply stalking past him as he let out a chuckle, making me shake my head. I had always found him particularly annoying, but tonight he was making me furious. After I checked in on Ama, ensuring her safety, I would come back and work out some of my frustration on his face.
Shit. I really wasn’t normally violent. But I also wasn’t normally a lot of things that I was with Ama. The woman changed me, and it was both terrifying and like a shot of adrenaline to the heart. Would I ever get used to the effect she had on me? Did I want to?
Incubi, by nature, indulged in whatever they wanted, and I very much wanted to indulge in Ama and everything she had to offer. That was, if she was even offering, which, after tonight, was highly doubtful.
When I turned down the hallway towards her suite, I immediately knew something was very wrong.
“Fuck.” Drayven’s words had my jog turning into a full-out sprint as I tugged her door open.
Ice crawled up my spine as I stepped into the room, an onslaught of different things hitting me at once. For one, there was a dead man with his throat torn out lying near the door of her bedroom, easily visible from the living area.
Secondly, there had clearly been a struggle. I could smell fear lingering in the room, and Ama’s Succubus magic had left an imprint on the energy of the space. Had she used her magic? Why?
I watched as Finias turned the body over in the pool of blood, his face completely blank of emotion as he looked around. That was dangerous. Far more dangerous than Drayven, who after a sweep of the room, returned from the bathroom holding Ama’s torn dress and looking like he was about to break someone's neck.
What the hell had happened here? Where was Ama? The man was clearly dead…I didn’t want to consider whether she had been injured. I had to believe she was alright. Where was she, though? I stayed perfectly still, not knowing how to handle the emotions coursing through me.
“Damien was here,” Adrien’s voice was hard and sharp. I looked over at him and found the man looking almost panicked, which was extremely unusual for him. In fact, I think this was the first time I’d ever seen emotion from him at all.
“Someone tried to have her killed,” Colt’s voice was choked. I looked over at him and found him staring at the body. “Damien must have gotten here and stopped him…which means they are together.”
“This man is from my house,” Finias said coolly, looking down at the body.
A growl tore from Drayven’s th
roat, but I could see the fire raging in Finias’ gaze as he ignored the Reaper and strode towards the door. I had an idea of where Ama and Damien were, but I hesitated to go find her. Not because I didn’t want to check on her and make sure a single hair hadn’t been harmed on that gorgeous head. No, it was because I was ashamed. While we’d been fighting amongst ourselves, Ama had been attacked.
I followed behind the others as I considered everything that had happened, my mind starting to form connections and make assumptions that were extremely dangerous and upsetting. Had my father known? Is this what he had been referring to? Would that mean my parents had worked with the House of Runes in order to…kill Ama?
Fury grew in my chest at such a betrayal as we turned down a different hallway than I’d expected. Why wasn’t Damien staying with the others from House of Hellfire? I shook my head as we reached a dark door and, instead of knocking, Drayven grabbed the handle. The door was yanked open before he could turn the knob, and Damien offered all of us a look that immediately silenced us.
Shit. He was furious.
“Damien,” Adrien’s voice was cautious. The Hellhound didn’t say anything, stepping to the side as we quietly entered the room. I walked over to the bed, ignoring the others as they quietly demanded answers from Damien, wanting…no, needing to see her face.
Relief flooded me as I found Ama lying on the bed, clutching a pillow, and breathing deeply. Her face was flushed and her hair damp, as if she’d recently showered. Her eyelids fluttered slightly as she squeezed the pillow beneath her. I knelt down next to the bed and reached a hand out to graze her cheek, a soft rumble leaving my throat.
My gaze traveled down to her neck, and white-hot fury slammed into me. Bruises. Like a hand had wrapped around her elegant throat, bruising it completely. These marks would only get worse as they truly set in and began to heal. The shade would turn from the dark purple and red they currently were, to green and brown, likely marring her beautiful skin for weeks.
Insurrection (Monarchs of Hell Book 1) Page 20
