Pretty Faces (The Fallen Gods Book 6)

by K. A Knight

  He laughs bitterly. “And is it worth it? Is the toll on your soul worth the safety they offer?”

  I stop before him, and he takes a drink of the bottle before sitting forward. “One day, they will fall, and you will have to face the consequences of your allegiance. When the world ends, which side do you want to be on?” he asks mysteriously, something other than fae in that eye.

  Something stronger. Older.

  Something which sends a spark of terror right through me.

  So I do what I always do when I’m scared.

  I kill it.

  Taking the bottle of scotch, I break it on the desk, the glittering magical liquid spilling across it before I stab it into his neck. He gurgles, his blood squirting into the broken glass and bubbling as he chokes, and I watch for a moment before snapping his neck. I take a picture and send it to the council before grabbing the cigar and throwing it on the curtains in the corner.

  See, I clean up…

  Sometimes.

  Now to get home and patch myself up.

  KHALID

  I haven’t seen her all night. Fear is my constant companion. I have a bad feeling. I should leave. I should be hunting, but I can’t. I need to see if my mate is okay. Just then, her bike stops before her building. She stumbles from it and up to her house and slips inside, shutting the door behind her.

  But I smelled it.

  Blood, hers and others, and I feel her pain. It smacks into me, sending my heart into overdrive as I almost roar with the protectiveness surging through me. Someone hurt my mate. Uncaring about anything else, or about the fact she’s hunting me, I rush over to her house and open the door. It’s a testament to how hurt she is that she didn’t lock it. However, an alarm instantly goes off, and she’s before me. A blade is held in her shaky, bloodied grasp, pointing at me. Her eyes are narrowed, her nostrils flaring in anger.

  “You want to fight or fuck?” she snaps. “Now is not the time. Wait for tomorrow, and I’ll kill you then.” Her hand with the blade drops, and she winces. I run my eyes down her, cataloguing her injuries. Her other hand is clutching her side, and she’s in nothing but a bra and some jeans. Her once tanned skin is mottled, speckled with blood, and she’s clutching the wound as blood oozes through it. She also has a hole in her thigh which is weeping blood.

  Silver, if I’m not wrong.

  She looks like she’s been in a war. “What happened?” I demand.

  “Fuck off,” she barks.

  I step closer, head lowered, eyes narrowed on her. “You’re hurt. What happened?” I ask again slowly, dangerously.

  She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Just a job, don’t worry, I’ll be fine to hunt your ass tomorrow.”

  “Amore, you better tell me right now.”

  She stumbles back into the wall, looking tired and pale. “Get it over with.”

  “What?” I query, confused.

  “Trying to kill me,” she mumbles. “I can still fight you off.”

  Growling, I grab her. She stabs at me, but I ignore it as I head into the living room and lay her down on the couch. “Hey!” she protests as I turn her thigh gently, my big hands clenching around her leg. I look up, and she swallows.

  “I’ll be gentle. We need to get the bullet out,” I tell her softly.

  She bites her lip, and her eyes flicker to the table behind me. I turn and grab the tweezers there. I smell the alcohol already cleansing them and, careful not to hurt her any more than I need to, I slowly insert them into the wound. She grunts, her leg jerking, and the sound goes right through me to my heart, cracking it. Knowing she’s in pain is killing me, but I don’t stop. We need to get it out before it infects her or worse, her skin heals around it. I have to dig, but she doesn’t protest or move again, and eventually, I manage to fish it out. I put the bullet and tweezers on the table, and then I turn back and, eyes on hers, lean down and kiss near the wound. Almost tasting her blood.

  She watches me with distrust. “Why are you helping me?”

  “So suspicious all the time, amore.” I grin.

  “Stop calling me that, my name is Remi,” she snaps, and then blinks like she can’t believe she told me it.

  “Khalid,” I tell her honestly, and she nods before leaning back. “And I’m helping you because I want to, so stop expecting me to try and kill you. I think we can lose the sword,” I tease, but she clenches her hand around it further. “Fine, keep it, but let me look at your side.”

  “It’s fine,” she snarls.

  “It’s not,” I retort harshly, narrowing my eyes on her. “Stop trying to be so fucking strong, or I swear to god I will spank the shit out of you. Now let me see it.”

  She debates it for a moment before turning to her side, eyes on me, as if waiting for me to attack her. To hurt her. What happened to that smiling child to make my mate into this suspicious, hurt, angry woman?

  I don’t know, but I need to find out and make them pay for putting those shadows and doubts in her eyes. I left to save her from this life, and yet here we are. Her blood is on my fingers, and her pain is in my heart. I pry her other hand away and suck in a breath at the mess I find. How did she even drive home, never mind try to fight me off?

  Her side is burnt all the way down to the bone. It’s bad. I look up to see her eyes still on me. “Does it hurt?”

  “No,” she replies sarcastically. “It’s a fucking picnic.”

  “Least your humour is still intact.” I lean back. “You need to shift to heal.”

  She purses her lips. “I know, so get out so I can.”

  “Oh, I’m not leaving, amore,” I fire back.

  “Yes, you fucking are,” she snarls, sitting up as she presses the tip of the blade to my throat again.

  “We are here a lot.” I grin. “Do I have to knock you out again?”

  “You got the drop on me once, it won’t happen again.” That’s when I see it, the fear in her eyes. Fear I will hurt her, kill her while she’s shifting or after she’s shifted. I want to snarl, to tear and rip through the world to take out whoever hurt her. But I can’t. My mate is a fierce hunter, and I need to be careful not to piss her off. No, I have to go slow. One step at a time.

  “I will not hurt you, Remi. You need to change before this gets any worse or infected. Please.” The last word is foreign on my tongue. I have never pleaded before, but I will now.

  She needs to change, to heal, and I can’t stand her pain.

  I see the hesitation in her eyes. She knows she needs to, but she’s still worried. Worried about me hurting her…and something else. Judging her maybe? “I will not think any less of you or any differently.”

  “Don’t think of me at all,” she mutters. “Not until my blade is in your heart.”

  I smirk at the banter between us, but pain laces her tone now, and she’s pale and losing too much blood. “Remi, shift now,” I order.

  She chafes at the command, and I get in her face, wrapping my hand around her throat to anchor her, letting her feel my strength and determination. I see it in the flicker of her mismatched eyes then—lust, but also a flicker of fear. Fear at what she can feel flowing between us. That she’s letting me so close but doesn’t understand why. I do, but I won’t tell her.

  My gaze falls to her lips, unable to help it, and I lean down and run mine across hers, drawn by a compulsion bigger than me. “Now,” I whisper against her mouth.

  Our eyes meet, and the fact that we are enemies fades away. The fact that we should hate each other, kill each other, leaves us. All that’s left is vulnerability, and on my part, my deep-seated love and protectiveness for my mate.

  “Change,” I demand again. “I won’t hurt you, I promise. I will protect you while you heal.”

  I stand up, release her, and step away until my back meets the wall so she can keep me in her line of sight as she changes. I have always wanted to see my mate’s wolf. I bet she’s as beautiful as her human counterpart. Graceful, perfect, and so strong. I ache to touch her, to watch
her hunt and run.

  I long for all the years I’ve lost with this incredible creature before me, but even now, if I could get her away from me, I would. If I could walk away knowing she was safe, I would. To protect her…and me.

  She’ll try to kill me, I know that, I see it in her eyes. She has to.

  And I cannot let my mate become nothing but another weapon for the council. If it comes to it, I’ll kill her too.

  We are enemies. Yet fated.

  It’s confusing to say the least. I still want her, the ever-present desire so strong, it almost takes my breath away. My hands ache to hold her, to trace her curves, to feel her slick pussy again. My cock is hard, even though she’s injured. Her blood and pain call to that dark part of me that wants to revel in it.

  My soul calls out to her.

  Yet my brain knows this can’t be.

  I left once to protect her, and if I leave again…one of us won’t be alive to see it.

  Yet I can’t bring myself to even speak of what’s to come or to do what I know I have to. Because she’s here, she’s right in front of me. Everything I have always wanted, everything I fought and killed for. Could I so easily end that?

  Could she?

  I don’t know anymore. I really don’t. Everything is so twisted. Finding your mate is supposed to be a happy time, the best of your life. Yet she doesn’t even know who or what I am. Just my name, and I have the truth burning a hole in me.

  When the truth comes to light, what will be left in the aftermath?

  She hesitates for a moment longer before closing her eyes, dropping the sword, and letting the change sweep through her. It’s only a few seconds of pure light. I hear bones snap and skin reform. Fur covers her body, but when it’s over, I’m left gaping in astonishment.

  Because before me is a tiger, not a wolf.

  REMI

  My wolf is pawing to get out, but my tiger charged before she could. Now more animal than human, we watch him. His eyes are locked on us and filled with shock, as if I wasn’t what he was expecting, before his lips curl up. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers as those black orbs run across my fur-covered body where we lie.

  I can feel the wounds knitting together, healing. He’s right, I did need to change, but it’s a vulnerable moment, and he saw me in it…yet he didn’t attack. But why is he still here? As if to answer my thoughts, he leans back to get comfy and just watches me. “I can still see those wheels turning in your head though, babe.” He smirks, and I huff, flicking my tail out and hitting him. He chuckles and grabs it. My tiger should attack, snarl at the very least at his chafing, hard grip, but the big pussy purrs and head-butts him, rubbing herself across him as he chuckles and strokes her back. I can’t stop it, and I know when I shift, I’ll be mortified at the clear display of lust and ownership, because she thinks he’s hers.

  Idiot.

  He scrubs at my fur as we head-butt and play with him before stretching out and lying down, closing our eyes as our body heals. I feel him watching me the entire time, and for some unknown reason, I fall asleep under his protection.

  The scent of meat drifts to me, waking me from the nightmare plagued sleep. Groaning, I flip over before my eyes dart open. I’m naked…and I’m human. Fuck. I grab the closest blanket and wrap it around my body as I sit up—just as Khalid walks in. His shirt is open, the buttons are missing, and some small slash and claw marks cross his built chest. But for once, I’m not drooling over abs or hot guys, but the thing in his hand—a plate full of rare steak. How the fuck did he know?

  “I thought you might be hungry after the change and all the energy you used from healing.” He hands it over with a small smile, and he rolls his eyes when I don’t touch it. “It’s not poisoned, eat,” he demands.

  Reluctantly, I take it as my belly rumbles, eyeing him as I pick up the meat and start tearing into it. I am an animal, after all. He observes with an arched eyebrow. I don’t break eye contact as I demolish the three steaks, no doubt blood covering my chin and hands. With a smirk, he leans in and rubs across my chin with his thumb before pulling back to show me the blood there. With his black, bottomless eyes still on me, he sucks it into his mouth.

  I almost gasp, I can’t help it. Why is the sight such a turn-on? And now that my hunger for food is settled, my body is stirring for a whole different type of hunger that involves his impressive pecs and abs. Not to mention his blood, which I can smell on the air from my tiger’s claws. “Did I do that?” I ask, my voice rough as I nod my head at the slash marks. He looks down and laughs.

  “We were play fighting.” He shrugs as he sits back. “So a tiger, huh?”

  “Problem?” I snap, even as my mind screams at me. Why am I sitting here talking to this man? I have a contract on him. I should be killing him, but instead, I’m ignoring the relentless tingle of my pussy and throbbing clit, which is begging me to eat him like I did the steak.

  “No, want to tell me what happened tonight?” he queries, serious now, his gaze running down my frame as if checking for injuries.

  “Why the fuck do you care?” I snarl and narrow my eyes, pressing my hand into the recess of the sofa cushions to find the blade hidden there. “Want to tell me why the council wants you dead?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know.” I think he may be telling the truth, at least partly. “I have some ideas… Anyway, why do you work for them? You’re not a dumb, meathead shifter like the others, or a bloodthirsty hunter.”

  “Oh, really?” I smirk and pull the knife free so he can see it. His eyes flicker to it and back to my face without any hesitation. I don’t even scent his fear, rather his…interest?

  Interesting.

  I stand up, and he watches me. Without hesitating, I let the blanket drop to the floor. I’m covered in blood from the steak and my healed injuries. His eyes stay on mine purposely until, with a grin, he flickers them down, running them across every inch of my exposed skin. His lips quirk up in a side smirk, and everywhere he looks feels like a physical touch. My pussy comes alive, and my body aches to feel his hands again, his mouth. A pull from my lower belly tries to drag me to him. He leaves no part of me unseen, looking over every inch. Slowly, uncaring, until he finally meets my eyes again and winks.

  Motherfucker.

  Ignoring my stupid heart and vagina, I step forward, gripping the knife as I stroll towards him. He observes me as I near, leaning back in the chair with that constant cocky smirk. Those black eyes consume my vision. My animals roar as both my tiger and wolf scream for me to bite him, claim him, and rut him. My other, well, it’s hard to determine if it wants to fuck or eat him.

  Maybe both.

  His legs are parted, so I straddle them, poised over his groin as I run the knife down his bare chest. He doesn’t stop me or protest. No, those black eyes darken further and his face tightens with lust. “Who says I’m not filled with bloodlust?” I whisper and, unable to help myself, I meet his eyes and nick him with the blade.

  He doesn’t hiss or cry out. No, he groans, his body rolling upwards until I feel his hard cock. Looking down, I watch the blood trail between his pecs, and my creature roars to the forefront of my mind, controlling me. I can’t stop my head from leaning down, nor keep my tongue from darting out and tracing the droplet. The taste of his blood explodes in my mouth—copper, darkness, sin, and danger. It’s addictive, and I instantly want more. My creature demands for me to rip him to pieces and feed, to cover myself in his blood. Bathe in it as I ride him to death.

  Instead, I switch the bloodlust to plain lust. Years of practice allow me to distract it so I don’t end up on TV as a serial killer or a cannibal. Pulling my head back, I look up to see his lips parted on a pant, and his chest rising and falling faster beneath me. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, as if to resist yanking me closer. Those black eyes hold me in their depths as I remain straddling him. I don’t know why this man has such power over my desire. I have never wanted anyone so much in my life…

  Maybe
I could indulge before I kill him? See if it’s worth the wait?

  “Remi,” he murmurs in warning, bringing me back as I grind against his hard cock, which feels like a fucking steel pipe against me.

  “Who says I’m not just as much of an animal as they are? That I don’t enjoy the hunt?” I lick down his chest. “The blood,” I murmur, as I circle the cuts, lapping up the remnants of his blood as he grunts. Slipping from his lap, I fall to my knees between his thighs. “The death,” I whimper, closing my eyes as I grind my pussy into the floor, still riding that fine line between bloodlust and plain lust.

  Between murdering and feasting and fucking.

  His eyes close for a moment as his whole body shudders. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” I inquire with a cocky smirk as I drag my hands up his chest before slicing them back down, digging my nails in just enough to hurt but not scratch. He jerks again, and a grunt is forced from his lips as his black eyes snap open. This time, I see an animal there too as his own restraint snaps. Good. Either he needs to fuck me, or he will end up dead before I get some answers. My creature is too close to the surface to resist both options.

  He fists my hair and tugs my head back, and pain flashes through me from his tight, harsh grip. He yanks some of my hair strands free, stretching my throat in a hard, thin line. My wolf bellyflops at the dominance in that one touch. My tiger ruffles but purrs when he leans into me, his abs crunching with the movement. My creature watches with dark, hungry eyes, so close to the surface, I’m surprised he can’t see it waiting there, lurking in my gaze.

  After all, my one black eye is from its existence.

  From when it took over fully and I lost myself in the haze and almost didn’t come back. It left a permanent mark for all to see. The stain of a monster. A killer. An eater.

  His face stops inches from mine as he tilts my head farther back until my neck protests, his lips almost touching mine. “Keep pushing, amore, and you won’t like what will happen.”