by K. Webster
Once I take my foot off his chest, he scrambles up and hurries toward the elevator. There’s no way I’m taking it up with him, so I wait until the doors close.
I may work for HEL, but I in no way have the stomach for what the Reapers do.
After prowling back down the hallway, I stop in front of Luc’s door. Following that debacle, I’m definitely waiting for her. There’s no telling what the fuck sort of sick shit Luc will expose her to, so I need to make sure she’s okay until I can get her away on our assignment.
The elevator doors open again, and I ball my fists, eager to punch that idiot if he pops back out. But when Corson and Gabe step out, I exhale in relief. Corson may not be one of my favorite people with his blue, gay-ass suits, but I do like Gabe. Seeing him calms me a bit.
“Take it to Zo,” Corson instructs as he points to another door in the long hallway.
I’m about to call out to warn Gabe, but when he opens it, no flames from the fiery pits of Hell engulf him.
I wonder what’s beyond that door. I’ll have to remember to ask Lovenia.
Corson waits for Gabe, but when he notices me, his mouths pops open in shock. “Omega, what are you doing?”
Groaning, I stride toward him. “Waiting for Lovenia. We’ve been assigned together, and Luc needed to talk to her alone.”
Corson smirks knowingly, and I have the urge to smack the shit out of him. Instead, I purse my lips and fold my arms across my chest.
“What are you doing here?” I throw back at him.
For a brief moment, his eyes flicker in surprise. He’s my boss, under Luc, but I’m not afraid to speak directly to him.
“Taking care of business,” he says smoothly.
His tone is light but his shoulders are tense. He’s hiding something, but I don’t know what.
“Omega,” Gabe blurts out in shock as he emerges from the mysterious door.
“Gabe,” I greet back.
He and Corson exchange a glance I’m not meant to interpret, and I suddenly feel like my trust in Gabe should be limited. Call it a hunch.
“Funny thing. Luc never mentioned to me an assignment for you and Lovenia. Care to share what it is you’re doing?” Corson questions.
I furrow my eyebrows at him. “I’m not sure I’m privy to disclose the details of our assignment. If Luc wanted you to know about it, I’m sure you would have been the one to deliver the word of our job.” The smug grin on my lips is immediate. I kind of like having the upper hand over this fruit.
“Remember your place, Omega,” Corson snaps.
“Want to have a drink later?” Gabe asks me as if Corson and I aren’t about to punch the other out.
No. “Yeah, sure,” I mumble against my wishes. But maybe I can ask him about the door and what he was doing in there.
“Great. Come on, Corson. A new wave of Reapers will be here soon. You don’t want to be late,” Gabe says.
I sense that Gabe is attempting to separate us. Maybe he is a friend. Shit—only time will tell.
“Bye.” I wave them off.
Corson glares at me for a moment longer before storming off with Gabe on his heels. After tossing me an incredulous look, Gabe steps onto the elevator with him.
What the fuck is up his ass?
I walk back over to Luc’s door. Then I cross my arms and wait, straining my ears to hear through the door.
A pleasured moan echoes through the walls—one I recognize because she’s made the noise when I was deep inside her, owning her body.
Lovenia.
I fucking lose it.
I FUCKING LOSE it.
My inner voice is telling me to calm the hell down, but I can’t. Not while staring at them. Tears stream down my face as Luc pounds into me from behind. Nothing matters, though, except what’s in front of me. I can’t look away, but it’s also the most sickening thing I’ve ever had to see.
I lock eyes with one of them. The sight is so ghastly that I know I’ll be haunted by it until the end of my existence. The black, hollow eyes of the soul of what I believe is a woman stares at me and screams so loudly that it makes it through the speakers and into my bloodstream. Her terror and pain rips at every nerve ending from within me. My skin crawls to rid myself of it.
As nausea overwhelms me, I briefly wonder if I’ll puke all over Luc’s smooth sheets. Thankfully, I manage to tear my gaze from the damned soul only to zero in on the tortured eyes of another that’s desperately pounding on the glass.
There’re too many.
I can’t take it.
They all see me just as I see them, and they’re all begging me for mercy as if I have the power to grant it. None of them raise their hollow eyes to their ruler because they already know of his lack of compassion. It’s as if each soul thinks I somehow hold the key to their release.
I can’t help them.
Flames lick around them, burning and charring them for eternity.
I can’t fucking help them.
I pity them nonetheless. I’m probably staring at murderers and rapists, but I can’t help but want to extend clemency upon them.
Too bad I’m not in the position to do so.
I try to look away, but their begging and pleading is threading itself permanently into my brain. I’ll never be able to erase this.
Ever.
Hot tears blur my vision, which gives me a momentary reprieve from the misery.
When Luc brutally digs his fingers into my hip and grunts, I know he’s close to coming.
“This is so fucking beautiful,” he groans as he pulls out of me.
His semen splatters my back, and my skin stings from the heat of it—everything about him is as fiery as the Hell before me. When he releases my hair, I fall face first against the sheets. My mind still reels with the sight of the damned and their begging, but at least I am spared of having to look at them.
“Next time, let’s fuck on the loveseat,” I grumble against the bed.
He chuckles and swats my ass before climbing away from me. “Is there something wrong, sweet Lovenia? Was this too scary for a little girl like you?”
Quickly, I steel my features before rising from the bed, careful not to look out the windows. Tossing a smirk over my shoulder, I scoff. “Hardly, old man. I was just imagining getting to view that gorgeous fireplace while you fuck me like the madman you are.” I throw in a wink for good measure.
“Lovenia, you’re a great fuck. Thanks for that. Now, I’m tired. When I’m ready for you again, I’ll call upon you. Until then, have fun with Omega on your assignment.” He grins as he puts his boxers on. “But not too much fun, of course. You’re my toy, not his.”
I smile back as if his words don’t bother me at all. “I’ll be waiting, lover.”
“In der Nähe!” he orders, and the glass turns black.
Thank fucking goodness.
“I’ll see myself out,” I purr as I slide off the bed to begin dressing. Now that I don’t have the damned clogging my brain, I can think clearly. And I need to be calm. “Goodbye, Luc,” I say with a wave once I’m dressed.
He climbs into bed and half waves as he stretches out. The second I make it into the hallway, I have the urge to run toward the door near his office that will grant me freedom from his lair.
But I don’t.
I sway my hips like a crowd is watching. I treat the hallway as if it’s my runway and I’m the star. Though I’ve been rattled, I won’t let him see that. As I reach his office, I consider sliding behind his desk and having a look at his computer. But I’m exhausted and stressed to the max. Tonight is not the night to dig for information.
I need to get to my suite and scrub him off me.
Before I exit his place, I glance down the hallway. Now, I’m thankful I didn’t approach his desk because he’s watching me much like a lion would watch his prey. His arms are folded across his sculpted, tattooed chest and he observes me with smug awareness—almost daring me to reveal my true intentions that he so clearly senses
.
With an innocent smile tossed in his direction, I push through the door and then let it slam shut behind me.
I fucking survived.
I fucked the Devil and lived.
Those faces. Those horrible anguished faces tear at my own soul. Bursting into tears, I lean against the wall near the door. Why do I have the hardest fucking job of all?
Because you’re tough, resilient, strong.
Gulping, I lift my chin and repeat those words in my head.
Tough, resilient, strong.
Why don’t I feel strong? I feel fucking terrified.
“Love,” a familiar voice whispers.
My heart desperately reaches for the voice.
“Omega.”
His warm, powerful arms envelop me, and I fall against his hard chest. For once, I want to not be the strong one. For once, I want someone to take care of me. For once, I’d love to forget my tasks and focus on this man.
“Shh. You’re safe now,” he coos against my hair.
And I believe him. I have to. Right now, I need whatever comfort he can provide.
Sagging against him, I release a ragged sob. He’s never seen me like this. Nobody has. But right now, I don’t give a fuck. I need to lose it, if only for a passing moment.
I let out a small gasp when his strong arms scoop me up. Burying my face into his neck as he carries me, I inhale that deliciously addicting scent of his. It doesn’t turn me on or make me horny; it soothes my suffering soul. After what I just dealt with, my soul aches for comfort.
Omega provides that comfort.
His arms protectively encase me, and I slide my palm up his chest and around his neck. I just want him to hold me.
Indefinitely.
“Let’s get the fuck out of this hellhole,” he growls as he stalks toward the elevators.
I’m clean, but I can’t get the faces—or the fucking screams—out of my head. Sighing, I pull the towel from the hook and inhale it. It smells like him.
Omega.
After he picked me up earlier, he carried me all the way to his suite.
My hero.
I showered alone, and I was thankful. Omega didn’t have to witness the way I scrubbed my pussy raw. He didn’t have to see the way I banged my head against the tile in shower, attempting to rid myself of the images that are permanently singed into my brain.
He didn’t have to see who I truly am.
Shuddering to shed myself of the memories from earlier, I towel off and eye the T-shirt he left for me.
Black.
Simple.
Perfect.
Omega.
After stepping onto the plush rug, I walk over to the shirt and pick it up. Bringing it to my nose, I inhale his scent. His smell is everywhere—permeating my senses much to my delight.
God, he smells delicious.
I drop the towel to the floor and pull the shirt over my head. When I lift my eyes, I meet my gaze in the mirror.
I’m not the beautiful Lovenia.
I’m not some vixen who makes men drop to their knees.
In this moment, I’m her.
The innocent.
The woman who snapped and gave her soul up to seek justice.
I am her.
Lillian.
“Everything okay in there, Love?” Omega’s deep voice booms from the other side of the door, startling me.
I take another moment to hold on to her before I look away and answer him. “Yes. I’m okay.”
Stepping toward the door, I lift my chin and affix a brave face. If I had the energy, I’d even add a flirtatious grin for good measure. But I don’t have the energy. So, instead, I frown as I reach over and twist the handle, opening the door to find a concerned Omega with crossed arms waiting on the other side.
“What’s wrong, Love? Did he hurt you?” he demands and takes a step toward me.
The scent that was on his shirt becomes stronger, as it’s coming directly from him now. I suck in a ragged breath to inhale him into my lungs.
“Not exactly, but I’m the least bit rattled,” I admit.
With Omega, I’ve always felt my most comfortable. I’ll never be able to tell him everything, but getting a little off my chest sounds enticing.
He raises his hand as if to reach out for me but has a change of heart and drops it. I ignore the disappointment flooding through me.
“Come on. Let’s discuss this in the living room.”
We used to spend a lot of our time in bed talking about everything and nothing. So the fact that we’ll be talking on the couch—fully clothed—causes a pang of regret to pierce my heart knowing I was the one to ruin it all. For what?
The ultimate ending.
I can’t lose sight of that. Ever.
Happy endings are for princesses. Happy endings aren’t for warriors.
When he reaches the couch, he waits for me to sit first and then plops beside me, our thighs touching. I’m thankful for the small bit of closeness after the literal Hell I just walked through.
“Tell me what happened.” His voice is firm with the slightest edge to it. He knows what I was doing, and he isn’t pleased about it.
“I had sex with Luc,” I tell him as if it’s no big deal. But it is a big deal. When I signed up for this, I knew there were extremes I would have to go to. I just never imagined that it would be this bad.
He winces at my words, but he was expecting them. “Well, no surprise there. Was it good?” he questions with a raised eyebrow.
I don’t miss the flicker of jealousy, and it warms my chilled heart. “No. Actually, it hurt. But aside from that…” I trail off.
His brows pinch together at my words. “Next time I see that motherfucker, I’m going to kill him,” he spits out.
I’m already shaking my head before he gets his words out. “Not like that. He’s just…” I pause. Not like you. “Never mind. Anyway, that isn’t what upset me.”
His breath rushes out in relief, but his jaw still clenches as he waits for me to finish.
“I saw them.” My lip quivers as tears threaten.
“Who?”
“The damned,” I choke out. I don’t want to sob—show weakness—in front of Omega, but I’m about to break. Just once, I’d love to truly confide in someone, and who’s better to do that with than he is?
I yelp in surprise when he slides his arms around me and hauls me to him. His touch once again comforts me, and I melt against his chest.
“I saw one being ‘delivered,’” he confesses. “It was fucking awful. The screams. The begging. The agony.”
Sniffling, I clutch his T-shirt and attempt to pull myself closer to him—any closer and I’ll climb right inside him. We’re both quiet for several moments. He holds me tight in one arm and strokes my hair with the other. Finally, he pulls away and looks down at me.
“Lovenia?”
I love to watch the way his lips form the word. “Yes?”
“Why do we care?”
“WHY DO WE care?”
Her eyes bug out of her head. “Why do we care? We don’t, Omega. At least, when we leave this suite, we don’t. Got it?”
I stare at her, confused. “Not really.”
“Ugh,” she sighs. “Here’s the deal. We’re not supposed to care. We are Leviathans. Nobody in this whole damn building gives a fuck except for about themselves. At the end of the day, everyone is out for themselves.”
The screams of the damned flood my mind—horrific and sickening. I know that I care because I don’t belong here in the first damn place. But Lovenia? Ever since she fucked me over, I assumed she was one of them through and through—not a sympathetic bone in her body. Now I wonder what’s really going on inside that head of hers.
“I didn’t think you cared about anyone but yourself.” My words are meant to sting her, and the effect is immediate, because her shoulders sag.
“I have a heart, Omega. I’m so sorry I hurt you before.”
Her apologies are alwa
ys verbal nonsense to me. I don’t feel the sincerity in my bones. She’s given me no reason to trust her.
When she stretches her bare legs out and props them on the coffee table, my eyes unabashedly skim over her tan skin. God, I miss those legs.
“So he fucked you and you watched them. Why would you fuck him in the first place? Was he better than me? Did you tell him you loved him?” I blabber out. My mouth has officially lost its mind.
Her hand finds the hem of the T-shirt she’s wearing, and she nervously fiddles with it. The shirt may be mine, and it may fit her like a dress—but it’s a short fucking dress and extremely distracting.
“Yes, he made me watch their begging and torment. It was sick. And no, nobody could ever be better than you.”
Pride swells in my chest—I fuck better than the damn Devil. There should be some award I could give him for his mantel on his precious fireplace. Second-Place Lover.
“So, you don’t love him?”
Her laugh is hollow. “Not even close.”
She continues to fidget with her shirt, so I cover her hand with mine, my fingertips brushing the insides of her inner thighs. The gasp that erupts from her is familiar, and I can’t help the longing that fills me.
I miss her.
“I’ve missed you,” she says, mimicking my thoughts in a small voice.
“I didn’t miss you,” I lie. My thumb gently strokes the top of her hand, because even though I want my words to hurt her, I want to comfort her at the same time. The sane brain in my head tells me that this woman is a liar and used me for her own personal gain. But my heart begs to let me hold her.
“Do you remember that time not long after you were assigned to look after Pedro and you got all pissed at something he said?” she asks quietly.
I know exactly what she’s talking about. It was the day I knew. The moment I knew I loved her.
“If you were mine, the first place my dick would go would be in that hot little mouth of yours,” Pedro flirts, his voice so low that I almost don’t hear it.
“What the fuck did you say?” I stand abruptly, my fists clenched at my sides. I’m supposed to be protecting this asshole, but he makes it hard as hell.
