Envy (The Damning Book 2)

by Katie May

  to handle things yourself, but I'm outnumbered."

  That was...surprisingly sweet.

  "You're more man than female anyway," he continued. "I would not want

  to be locked in a room with you for more than an hour."

  Or not.

  "Oh fuck off, Bash," I hissed, stomping through the forest and back

  towards the town. Foliage and dried leaves crackled beneath my feet with

  every step. I heard, rather than saw, Bash move behind me. He didn't seem

  inclined to stand beside me, despite his long legs easily being able to eat up

  the distance between us.

  "Trust me. I wish I could fuck." I didn't even have to see him to know he

  would be scowling. "Anyone and anything. Besides you, of course, princess."

  I stopped in mid-step, glancing over my shoulder to meet his eyes.

  "Is that a nickname?" I cooed mockingly. "That's so sweet. I knew you

  cared."

  His nostrils flared.

  "Why would I give you a nickname? I don't like you." He spoke these

  words candidly, the sincerity in them almost impossible to deny. Almost. But

  I was his mate, after all, and I knew his tell.

  The slightest hitch of breath was definitely one of them.

  Ignoring it, I continued walking, purposefully pushing branches out of my

  way only to have them hit Bash square in the chest. I smiled in satisfaction

  when he grumbled.

  "So do you have another lover we need to know about?" Bash snarkily

  inquired. “You seemed awfully close to that human.” Why couldn't he just

  shut the hell up for more than a moment? For fuck's sake...

  "Jealous?" I quipped.

  "Disgusted would be a better word. I never knew you to be a cheater on

  top of-" Before he could even finish his thought, I had him pinned to a tree,

  my arm at his throat. He blinked rapidly at me, heat rising to his cheeks.

  Was he...?

  There was no mistaking the heat emanating from his eyes as I held him

  hostage. His breaths shuddered in and out.

  "Don't talk about me like that," I hissed. "I didn't want this mate bond

  either, asshole. But the last thing I would ever do is cheat on them...or you,

  for that matter. Though sometimes I want to fucking stab you."

  "Oh, how you flatter me," Bash drawled dramatically.

  “Go have an orgy or something and leave me alone," I snapped, my

  already thin patience splintering like a ball being thrown on a slate of ice.

  When the ice broke, I was immediately submerged in an icy cold water that

  made goosebumps erupt on my skin. "Wait. You can't have one. Because you

  can't get fucking hard."

  We were both breathing heavily, and I saw Bash's pupils dilate.

  He leaned over me, and I knew he was going to kiss me. I couldn't decide

  if I wanted him to...or if I wanted to knee him in the balls. All I knew for

  certain was that his hot breath fanned over my face, smelling distinctly of

  peppermints, and I was slowly losing all mental capabilities. When he

  exhaled, those damn lips parted seductively. He was so handsome, and it

  fucking bothered me.

  How could such a dick be so beautiful? How could such a dick be my

  mate?

  "I can’t fucking stand this," Bash whispered hoarsely. Huskily. "I don't

  want to be a puppet in fate's grand plan, you know? I don't want to be fated to

  love someone."

  He leaned even closer, a trickle of blond hair caressing my cheek. His

  forehead rested against mine. If I didn't know Bash like I did, I would've

  almost described his eyes as tender. Reverent. Loving.

  But I did.

  "Z..." His eyes flickered upwards, over my shoulder, and in a span of

  seconds, I was falling to the ground, Bash standing protectively in front of

  me. Before I could even scream at him for shoving me, I took stock of who

  he was protecting me from.

  Or what.

  It was unlike anything I had ever seen before with decaying flesh and

  milky, sunken eyeballs. It was completely naked, revealing withered, gray

  skin that reminded me vaguely of a raisin. Its nose consisted of two large

  holes directly in the center of its face. And when it opened its mouth, head

  canted to the side, I saw row after row of sharp teeth. More teeth than

  should've been possible - I counted at least three rows, formed in a circle in

  its mouth

  The creature's nostrils - holes - expanded, and it tottered forward when it

  caught a scent. My scent, if the direction of its eyes was any indication. It let

  out a guttural scream, lunging forward. It didn't walk. The combination of

  abnormally long legs and a small upper body made it seem as if it was flying,

  leaping, propelling itself off its back legs.

  Bash muttered something beneath his breath, an incantation, I realized,

  and extended a hand. Golden sparks flickered to life, and he directed it

  towards the creature. His hand still raised, he pushed the sparks towards the

  monster.

  I watched in rapt fascination as fire engulfed the creature immediately.

  Glorious red flames spread from its head to its small, naked torso, down to its

  legs, and finally rooted itself at its feet.

  Scrambling to my feet, I released a knife from its customary sheath at my

  side. I didn't know if Bash's hand on my shoulder was meant to be restraining

  or comforting, but either way, I pushed it off and marched towards the

  withering creature.

  Up close, even with the flames charring the skin, I could see how hideous

  it actually was. Mottled, gray skin and wispy black streaks of hair at its head.

  Those unseeing white eyes. The pervasive scent of urine combined with

  burning flesh.

  Disgust churned in my lower belly, but my hand was steady as I tossed

  the dagger into its head.

  The monster collapsed to the ground, the dagger protruding from its

  forehead and flames continually eating away at its sunken skin.

  I exchanged a glance with Bash, both of us breathing heavy from

  adrenaline and, in Bash’s case, over-exertion. I noted sweat dripping from

  Bash's forehead - a product of the spell he had cast. Still, he managed to level

  me with a glare that made the fire burning appear cold.

  "What the hell were you doing?" he snapped, stalking up to me. His

  hands grabbed my shoulders and gave them a shake. I eyed his hands through

  a slitted gaze, and he dropped them immediately.

  Good choice, running under the impression he wanted to keep those limbs

  in the first place.

  "I had it taken care of," he continued curtly. "You didn't have to jump in

  there like some motherfucking hero. You could've been hurt. The fire

  could've burned you!"

  I rolled my eyes. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if they remained

  glued to the back of my head.

  "He, the creature, was in agony, Bash. What was I supposed to do? Allow

  him to burn a slow and painful death while I watched? Believe it or not, I'm

  not a monster." My tone was more defensive than I wanted it to be, bitterness

  seeping through despite my best efforts. Bash's face softened considerably,

  and he hesitantly placed his hands back on my shoulders. This time, I let him.

  I didn't know why, only that a part of me craved the comfort he offered
. I

  knew he wasn't the type who would hold my hand and tell me everything

  would be okay, so the comfort he did offer, though scarce, I lapped up

  greedily.

  "I know that," he said softly. "And I know you could've handled it

  yourself. It's just...seeing him - it - come at you...fuck! I don't know."

  He released me as if I had burned him, pacing. His eyes occasionally

  flashed towards the decaying corpse.

  "What the hell even is that thing?" I asked, nodding towards the

  disgusting creature. His - I was under the impression it was a male - features

  were unrecognizable now, the fire completely eating away the rest of his skin

  to reveal the brittle bone beneath. That must've been one hell of a fire. Even

  where I stood, now a few feet away, I could feel the heat it emanated in

  blistering waves.

  "I'm not certain...but..." Bash trailed off, casting a scathing glance once

  more at the corpse. I raised a brow at him to continue, and he sighed

  resignedly. "It reminds me of a story my dad used to read to me before bed.

  About a princess, a prince, and the monster that attacked and killed her. The

  prince killed himself in grief."

  "That was the bedtime story your dad told you?" I gasped in disbelief,

  heart breaking for younger Bash. “That’s fucked up.”

  He tossed me a glare.

  "Not important. Anyway, the creature was described exactly like the thing

  that attacked us. Holes for a nose. Circular mouth with hundreds of little

  teeth. Gray skin. It scared the shit out of me when I was younger."

  "What is it?" I repeated. There were minuscule pains all throughout my

  body, but I couldn’t tell the source. The fight hadn’t been too strenuous, so

  why did it feel like I ran twenty miles? I absently rubbed at my nose, shocked

  when my hand came away stained with blood. I hid it behind my back before

  Bash could notice.

  "A Revenant." Bash's voice was quiet, but it carried easily through the

  suddenly stilled forest. Not even animals wanted to bear witness to what had

  transpired. The tranquility was nothing more than an illusion, betraying how

  fucked up everything actually was.

  Bash sighed once more, a hand combing through his blond hair. "They

  have been extinct for years now," he admitted. "That... thing...shouldn't exist."

  TWELVE

  DAIR

  F ather stared at me over the dinner table, fork partially lifted and a

  contemplative expression on his face. I squirmed, unease prickling

  my skin at his undivided attention. Even Tavvy noticed my father's

  uncharacteristic interest in me, skin wrinkling around his eyes and brows in

  irritation.

  Poor, envious bastard. For once, he wasn't the center of attention.

  What Tavvy didn't know was my willingness to sell my soul to escape my

  father. I didn't want his attention. I didn't want those crystal clear blue eyes,

  the same shade as my own, to be fixated on me with an interest that made my

  hair stand on end. I didn't want to be on the receiving end of his punishing

  hand, his cruel words, his excessive games.

  But freedom was a foreign concept, one grafted from this improbable

  ideology that we were actually made to be free. That was a lie. We were born

  only to serve those in power. To bow down to those higher than us, stronger

  than us, faster than us. It wasn't so much a hierarchy as it was a way of life.

  You were either born with power, or you weren't.

  But every person, my father included, had a weakness. His weakness

  wasn't physical, but mental. It was the same affinity that plagued the rest of

  my family and species. Envy.

  It was for that reason alone Father had dozens of wives, each one a

  different age, a different skin color, and a different body type. His favorite

  wife at the moment, Marcella, sat in the seat beside him, dark skin and dark

  hair a contrast to my mother's own golden hair and golden skin - a trait that I

  had inherited.

  Marcella, noticing my stare, leaned over, revealing her ample breasts and

  cleavage. Disgust filled me instantly, and I turned away. Tavvy had no such

  qualms, flashing Marcella a sultry grin and unabashedly staring at her breasts.

  No doubt, he would track her down and fuck her later.

  As was always the case with Father's new wives.

  Tavvy got jealous, fucked them, and then let Father know. More than one

  woman had paid the price for Tavvy's transgressions even if the woman

  hadn’t been a willing participant.

  More than a few of Father’s wives had come onto me as well, despite my

  disability. I knew they only wanted me to prove a point, to mark me off their

  list, put a notch in their bedpost, to tell the world that they had conquered the

  impossible. I hadn't ever been inclined to indulge myself in such scandalous -

  and frankly, disgusting - activities, but that distaste had turned into complete

  and utter revulsion now that I had found my mate.

  Of course, the rest of the world didn't know about that. It was a secret I

  would take to my grave until the time was right.

  My father...

  The cold hearted bastard would steal her before I could stop him. Before

  any of us could stop him. We may be the princes, but we were suffocated by

  the rules and regulations of courts. That wasn't to say that we wouldn't break

  all of them for Z, we would, but it meant having a relationship with her was

  slightly more difficult than one would anticipate after meeting his mate.

  Not one of us was against running away with her. Leaving the Capital and

  never returning.

  But we knew Z would never stand for it. As crowned princes, we had the

  capability to actually make change. To fix this world that our parents broke.

  Between the human work camps, the resistance groups, and Aaliyah, it wasn't

  practical to run from our problems. Not yet, at least.

  "What did you do today, son?" Father asked. It took me a moment to

  realize he was talking to me. It took me another moment to lift my jaw off the

  ground at the realization that he had addressed me for the first time in

  forever.

  Tavvy's jaw tightened.

  "Um..."

  "Hid away in the water, probably," Tavvy sneered. My other two

  brothers, twins, snickered despite the fact there was nothing remotely funny

  about that statement.

  "Are you excited for the ball?" continued Father, stabbing his fork into a

  fillet of fish.

  "Um..."

  I was at a loss for words on how to respond. I couldn't remember the last

  time I had my father's attention besides when he was harming me. I wasn't

  dumb enough to believe he held actual interest in my welfare or feelings. If

  anything, this was a trap.

  He was just waiting to ensnare me.

  I remembered when he used to set up traps in the fields surrounding our

  castle. For rabbits, he had said.

  Of course, no rabbits were ever captured. Instead, my father carried in

  armed resistance leaders and assassins.

  Fear tightened my throat muscles, clogging my airway. All I could do

  was stare at my father with barely concealed resentment and confusion,

  waiting not so patiently for the other shoe to
fall.

  "As this party is to celebrate Z's accomplishments, I have decided it

  would only be fitting for one of my sons to escort her." His lips curled,

  resembling a sneer more than an actual smile. "What would the kids say? A

  date? Yes, a date. One of my sons shall be her date to the ball."

  Once again, he threw me a pointed stare.

  Understanding didn't just dawn on me, but pelted me in the face with the

  strength of a mountain. Smothering me until I could barely breathe let alone

  speak. My heart clenched painfully in tandem to my fingers clenching around

  my fork. My knuckles were white, the veins beneath my skin visible.

  Somehow, someway, my father knew. How he discovered it remained a

  mystery, but there was no denying the telltale glimmer in his eyes, privy to a

  joke the rest of the world hadn't heard.

  Father pulled his focus away from mine, and it felt like I could breathe

  again. My breathing stuttered, nerves thrumming, I focused back on my meal.

  Father's next words effectively suffocated me once more.

  "Tavvy, it would make me a proud father to have you escort Z to the

  ball."

  The world spun rapidly, dizzily. The floor dropped out from underneath

  me, and I was spun head over heels. Pounding reverberated in my brain, and

  even my deep breaths did nothing to dispel the growing panic.

  Dozens of emotions slammed into me, physical blows. Anger at my

  father. Distress. Jealousy so potent that it contaminated the air like an acidic

  fog. The earth continued to disappear from under me, a gaping chasm that

  consisted of nothing but emptiness and darkness. A sickly tar that clung to

  my skin and hair, as black as night.

  Trying to stop these emotions was like trying to stop the waves from

  touching the shoreline with my bare hands. They overwhelmed me in its

  intensity, pulling me deeper and deeper into the swirling whirlpool with no

  hope of escape.

  Tavvy sat up straighter, an imperious set to his chin that hadn't been there

  previously. His smile was malicious and cruel, eyes glimmering like beaded

  jewels.

  "I would be honored, Father," he said diplomatically. Despite his tone,

  there was no denying the glee in his voice and the twinkle in his eyes.

  I knew this couldn't be allowed. Not only would Z's other mates, my

  brothers, not stand for it, but Z herself would fight tooth and nail if she was

  forced into the presence of this scumbag. She may not have realized the