by Katie May
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Momma scoffs. I note that some of the pain, the anguish, has dimmed in her bright eyes the more Lola talked. I don’t think she’ll ever be whole, but she’s slowly working on mending herself together again. For Lola and Bella. For me. “If my boy had a mate, he would’ve told me by now.”
She glares at me disapprovingly, and I duck my head sheepishly. In a matter of minutes, my momma has made me feel like an errant boy getting caught eating something he wasn’t supposed to. That glare turns into shock as she whacks me a-fucking-gain with the back of her hand.
“You have a mate and didn’t tell your Momma?” she cries in a stilted voice that conveys her annoyance and irritation. “I gave birth to you, boy. You don’t keep things like this from me!” She begins to sniffle, wiping at her eyes. Oh dear God. Not the tears... “When should I start hearing wedding bells? Grandbabies? I want babies, dammit.”
The thought of babies saddens me as I recall what Nina confessed earlier. All my dreams of beautiful, black-haired babies dissipate like words written in condensation. I’ll have to bring this up to Cain at a later time, ask him to look into it. Babies or not, I’ll love Nina regardless.
Besides, it’s not a smart idea to bring babies into this prison anyways.
“Momma.” I blush, lifting my gaze toward her face once more. “It’s still really new...”
“But you met her?” Lola asks eagerly, placing her arms on the table and leaning forward.
I smile when I think of Nina Doe. My mate. My world.
“I did. She’s perfect.” If my voice sounds like that of a lovesick idiot, can you blame me? “She always has a way to make you feel like you’re the only person in the world. She’s so incredibly strong—I can’t even begin to describe her inner strength. And she’s sweet. You’ll love her.”
Momma’s lips are curled into a soft smile. That smile seems to radiate through her expressive eyes.
“You love her, don’t you?” Though it’s phased as a question, there is a knowing glint in her eyes.
“What...? How...?” Yup. I’m blushing. Like a simpering schoolboy.
Fucking hell.
“Do you remember your last girlfriend?” Momma questions, shooing Bella out of the only spare seat and perching delicately on the edge.
“Why does that matter?”
“When I asked you about her, you immediately began describing how she looks.” Momma’s smile widens. “Yet, with your mate, you didn’t once mention her appearance.”
“Because Nina’s more than that,” I snap before I can stop myself. “She’s beautiful, of course, but she’s also kind and funny and strong—” I break off at my momma’s smirk. “Ah. I see.”
“When can I meet her?” Lola asks, jumping from foot to foot. “Can we meet her now?”
“Calm down, Spitfire,” I say, rolling my eyes. If my hands weren’t cuffed to table, I would’ve ruffled her bleached blond hair. “I promise I’ll introduce you to her.”
Lola and Momma exchange a mischievous look that promises trouble for that future encounter. I have no doubt that Momma thinks this girl isn’t good enough for me. I’m sure all mothers think that about their kids. However, she’ll come to realize that I’m not good enough for her. Momma will take one look into those white, compassionate eyes and be a goner. I’m pretty sure she’ll disown me and then adopt Nina as her own child.
“Well, we can’t stay for long.” Momma reluctantly gets to her feet. “Lola has art class this afternoon.”
“And Bella has a date,” Lola says in a singsong voice. Bella glares at our younger sister, eyes hurling daggers, before huffing and crossing her arms over her chest.
“Before we leave, can I talk to Bronson alone for a moment?” she asks, turning toward me. She brushes at a lock of her indigo hair, pushing it behind her ear.
“Of course, sweetheart.” Momma turns toward me and kisses my forehead. “Please, allow us to visit more. I know you didn’t want us to see you like this, but I can’t lose another child.” Tears fill her eyes, and each one is a punch to my gut. I hate when women cry, especially my mother. Tears should be fucking banned.
“Okay, Momma.” I rest my head against her chest like I used to do when I was a young boy. Her floral perfume surrounds me, evoking memories of late night cookie baking sessions and horror movie marathons. “Love you.”
“Love you too, boy. And don’t forget to introduce me to that mate of yours.” In a softer voice, she adds, “Your face glows when you talk about her. Any girl who’s capable of earning your love is someone I need to meet. Hopefully she’s good enough for my son.” If she was a peacock shifter, I imagine she’d be ruffling her feathers, attempting to assert her dominance.
“You’ll love her,” I assure her. “Promise.”
“Is she pretty? What does she look like?” Lola continues to babble question after question as Momma leads her out of the room. “Bye, Bron! Love you, asshole!” The “asshole” comment gets her a whack on the head from Momma.
A moment later, the door closes with a resounding clank.
Bella sits once more in the chair Momma previously occupied. She adopts a languid pose, legs kicked back and arms crossed.
“Did you get it?” I ask my sister. She eyes me warily, eyes keen, before nodding once.
“I did.”
She doesn’t move.
My irritation growing, I say, “Can I have it?”
“Of course.” Once more, she doesn’t even twitch.
I sigh. “Okay, fine. I bite. What do you want?”
Finally—finally—I get a reaction. She sits straight up in the uncomfortable plastic chair and smiles brilliantly. Hook, line, and fucking sinker.
“I want your room,” she demands. “And I want you to call me the supreme sister goddess for a whole month.”
My lips press into a grim line. “Is that all?”
“Hmmm.” She taps a finger to her chin before breaking into laughter, the noise deceptively light, and flashing me a malevolent grin. “When you leave here, I want you to buy me pancakes every day for three months. Every day. I’m not playing on this.”
“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth. “Now, give me.”
She gracefully slides a file out from underneath her sweatshirt. I have no idea how she was able to smuggle it into the prison, and I don’t care. All I care about is the information it contains.
My sister’s a hacker. A skilled one. Since a young age, she’s been able to break into the school’s computer, change her grades, and mark her attendance as perfect. Over time, her skills have developed significantly, and she even befriended some men and women from the dark web. Of course, I had argued profusely and threatened bodily harm on those creeps, but there’s not much I can do now that I’m in prison.
I never suspected her skills would come in handy.
Narrowing my eyes at the manilla folder, I huff irritatedly. “I can’t fucking read it with the cuffs on.”
With a sigh, she stalks around the table and flips it open to the first page.
“I couldn’t find anything on the Compound. Whoever ran it was good, very good. Probably better than me. Or they didn’t keep records online. There’s not a single trace of it on the web.” She sounds affronted by that idea before she shakes her head and nods toward the paper. “I did, however, find Nina’s hospital records from when she first left this mysterious Compound. The records were sealed, but the hospital had an extra, secret file on their computer. But this... Bron, this is big.”
I hit the brakes on my thoughts so fast that there’s skate marks on the asphalt and the smell of burning rubber.
“This...this can’t be right,” I whisper, stunned by what I’m reading.
Bella’s face is uncharacteristically grim as she considers me.
“Your mate is in even more danger than you thought if this is true,” she says solemnly.
Horror swamps me, consumes me, as I stare at the words before me. I see them, but I’m not
able to read or comprehend them. Icy numbness courses through my veins.
I think...
I think my sister may be right.
Chapter 50
Nina
I can feel Damien’s eyes on me.
It seems as if he’s always watching me. No matter where I am in a room, no matter who I’m speaking to, his eyes will caress my skin like a cold winter breeze.
After my encounter with Cain, the sex demon guided me to the private showers and tenderly washed the cum and sweat off my body. Each touch felt erotic, like he was leaving a piece of himself behind in the process.
“I need to go talk to Abe,” he’d said, kissing my forehead. “But I’ll be back. And then, we can do round two. And three. And four. And five.”
“Go!” I’d said, laughing. With another passionate kiss, Cain left, leaving me alone with Damien.
After changing into my favorite white dress, Damien had led me back into his secluded room at the end of the hall. Now, we sit.
“I don’t bite, you know,” I tease, patting his bed. “You can sit beside me.”
Damien grunts something noncommittally but doesn’t move any closer.
“Or is the big, dangerous mage scared?” I continue, giggling. I can practically envision his flabbergasted expression at my jests.
He huffs, finally sitting beside me on the surprisingly fluffy and comfortable bed. I’m almost jealous of it.
“I’m not scared,” he snarks.
“Are you scared of a teeny tiny little girl?” My voice is saccharine sweet, one I reserve for small animals.
He grunts in amusement, placing his arm behind my back. I immediately lean against it—better than any backrest I’ve ever used.
“Hey, why are you being so quiet?” I tentatively venture, climbing to my knees and turning toward him. I reach and touch his face, hesitantly running my thumb across his downward curved lips. My own lips lower instinctively. “What’s wrong?”
His hands settle on my lower back. “Just thinking, Angel.”
“About?” I press, placing one finger on either side of his lips and attempting to press them upwards. He grabs my wrists gently and brings them to his lap.
“You love Cain.” It’s not a question, but something in his tone makes me think he wants to hear a confirmation. Deciding for honesty, I nod.
“I love a lot of people.” My cheeks burn at the confession, but I refuse to duck my head. Not with him. He always sees me, even when I try to hide.
“I’m sure you were told about all of the horrendous things I’ve done before I arrived here.” Damien’s voice lowers with disgust and self-loathing. I hate that—I hate that he sees his broken edges as something he should be ashamed of. I’ve always known he wasn’t made of sunshine. Surprisingly enough, it’s his darkness that intrigues me.
“What happened?” I turn his hand over—rough and calloused from years of work—and brush my thumb over the center of his palm. I feel his body shiver delicately beneath me. “At the guild, I mean. What happened?”
He takes a deep, fortifying breath as if bracing himself against an incoming storm. I know he’ll be building walls and impenetrable fences around his heart, designed to keep me out. He thinks that his words will scare me away, anger me, terrify me. He doesn’t seem to realize that his monster is nothing compared to the monsters back at the Compound. He doesn’t seem to realize that I love him, demons and all.
“I never knew my dad. He was probably some asshole mage who knocked my mother up and then ran like a bitch when he discovered she was pregnant.” His voice holds a world of loathing and contempt for his absentee parent. I want to comfort him, but I have no idea how. “My mother turned to drugs. After only a few years of her addiction, she owed a shit ton of money to a pimp named Fangs. Fucking stupid name, if you ask me.” He pauses, bringing my hand to his lips to kiss the sensitive, tingling skin there.
“And then what happened?” I whisper breathlessly.
“She died. Overdosed. And I was found and taken in by Narian.” A spurt of anger accompanies that name, and I wonder who this Narian is to him and what he’s done. “Narian is the leader of the guild. He trained me, conformed me, into the heartless man you see before you. I don’t believe I was a psychopath before I met him, but now?” He laughs humorlessly. “I love the kill. The hunt. The fight. It excites me more than anything else in this fucking world.”
“What was Narian like?” I query, interested in the man who raised a young, innocent Damien. A little boy who had witnessed more than he should’ve. Who’d fought battles best served for someone older and wiser.
Damien releases another self-deprecating laugh. “Narian was a fucking pervert with a penchant for scared little boys.”
At first, I feel horror. That horror abates quickly to be transformed into anger—a blistering hot rage that makes me see red stars. The intensity of my emotions take me off guard. I’ve felt like this only once before, when I discovered what Lionel Green did to the twins. I don’t remember ever being this mad at the Compound. Heck, I wasn’t even this furious when Raphael Turner was revealed to be Man.
“Hey.” Damien rubs his hands up and down my arms soothingly. “Where did you go just then?”
“I hate him,” I whisper venomously. “I hate a man I’ve never even met before because he hurt you. Does that make me messed up?”
“No, Angel.” He lifts his hands to cup my neck, gently applying pressure. “It means that you care.” He sounds breathless, disbelief evident in his voice. “Do you, Nina? Care about me?” There’s a vulnerability in that question. I have to wonder if anyone has ever cared about Damien before. He has always been on the outskirts looking in, never participating. The inmates here fear him, and those that don’t fear him, hate him. Those walls he erects around himself aren’t a choice, but a necessity. A way to protect his fragile heart.
All he has ever wanted was to be loved. I don’t know how I know that, only that I do.
“I care about you, Damien.” I brush my hand through his slicked-back hair. “I think I even love you.”
His breath hitches, and the next thing I know, I’m on my back with his lips on mine. There’s nothing cold or calculating about this kiss: it’s pure fire. Flames burst behind my closed eyelids like a firework explosion.
“Are you already wet for me, Angel?” Damien whispers, trailing kisses to my ear. “Is your pussy slick and ready for my cock?”
I whimper at his dirty words. Out of all my men, I hadn’t expected Damien to be into this kind of thing. Heck, I didn’t even know I was into this kind of thing. When Haley had discussed it during dinner a few weeks earlier, I had blushed and giggled awkwardly.
Now, I can see and understand the appeal. Each word Damien says sends heat straight to my throbbing core.
Damien yanks me to him, our tongues dancing. It’s a war for control, for dominance, but I don’t hesitate to give it over. I’m at his complete mercy. Whatever he wants from me is his. I’ll give him everything.
He stops kissing me only to take off his shirt and throw it somewhere in the room. I have no idea where, and frankly, I don’t care. I trail my hands across his chest, pinching both nipples, and then down his taut abs. He flexes, muscles clenching, but allows me to repeat the rotation twice.
“I need to see you,” he declares, removing my hands from his chest. He pulls my dress over my head leaving me in my matching bra and panties. I don’t know which of the guys have given them to me, but I’m suddenly grateful. I do know that they look good on me, accentuating my curves and the muscles I’m beginning to form. “Fuck, you’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”
“And how often is that, Bitch Mage?” I tease. In retaliation, he pinches my nipple through the fabric of my bra, and I hiss, moaning for more.
“Do you want me to punish you?” he asks coldly, deftly unclasping my bra and sliding it off my shoulders. He holds my breasts in both hands, pushing them together. His lips move from one nipple to the ot
her, nipping and sucking until I swear I’m going to explode.
“Damien...” I beg, my panties soaked through.
“You’ll be patient,” he snaps, biting down on my nipple. “And you’ll take what I give you.”
“Give me everything,” I beg.
Abruptly, he releases my breasts and places a hand in the center of my chest. Applying a little bit of pressure, he guides me onto my back.
“Today, I’ll give you everything,” he agrees. There’s a rustle of fabric as he methodically removes his remaining clothing. A moment later, he returns to me, breath warm on my thighs. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
Without waiting for my response, he slides my undies off and places my legs on his broad shoulders. He begins to plant tantalizingly soft kisses to the inside of my thighs.
“What are you...?”
“Shhh, Angel. I want to remember this moment. Today, I’m going to taste you. I’m going to make you writhe against my tongue as you come. But be patient with me. I haven’t done this before.”
“You haven’t—”
My question is cut off by his tongue on my clit. I throw my head back and close my eyes as sensations rush through me. The stubble on Damien’s cheek against my swollen pussy lips. His hands on my thighs, holding me steady. His own moans of pleasure as he devours me like a decadent treat. Each lick, kiss, and bite sends me closer to careening over the edge.
He may have claimed he’s never done this before, but his mouth is magic.
I explode in an intense stream of whimpers and praises. Tears form in my eyes at the sheer power of it. The orgasm rocks through me like a tidal wave.
“You taste delicious,” Damien deadpans, and I almost laugh at his nonchalant voice. Almost. I’m too lost in the post-orgasmic bliss to care.
“Damien.” I pull his face toward mine and kiss his chin, cheeks, and finally his lips. I taste myself on him, and it only serves to heighten my arousal. These men are making me a sex fiend, and I find that I don’t even care. “I want you.”
