Mia watched him leave, her beautiful, broken warrior.
But he wasn’t hers. He wasn’t her mate.
Eve and Meredith were wrong. And though she wished otherwise—had never wanted anything more in her entire life—she’d learned a long time ago that wishing for something out of your reach brought you nothing but disappointment.
He carried so many secrets, so much pain locked inside. The way he’d touched her, looked at her. Zenon had a way of making her feel wanted, cherished, like she was precious—important. The fact he didn’t think he deserved the same broke her heart.
Was controlling the intimate side of their relationship another way for him to keep her at arm’s length? And if so, why go there with her in the first place? There was more to it, she just didn’t know what. Was he injured? Maybe there was a physical reason he couldn’t have sex? She believed him when he said he wanted her. You couldn’t fake the longing she saw in those intense yellow eyes.
Gah. She had to stop this.
She flopped back on the bed and glanced at the alarm clock.
Wasn’t there something she had to do this morning?
“Crap.” She’d completely forgotten she had a training session with James. Shoving back the covers, she raced out of bed and quickly showered and dressed in comfortable clothes, a pair of black yoga pants and one of Chaya’s old Led Zeppelin tees. It was soft and worn and made her feel closer to her big sister.
James wasn’t alone when she got there. Chaos stood against the wall. They watched her walk in, Chaos in that predatory way all the knights seemed to have, head tilted to the side, studying her like he was trying to work something out, while James gnawed on his fingernails like it was his last meal.
Great. Now what?
“How are you feeling, Mia?” Chaos asked.
Nerves assaulted her belly and she shook out her hands, trying to warm her suddenly freezing fingers. “I’m good. Thanks so much for the concern.”
He raised a brow at her obvious sarcasm but didn’t call her on it. “James tells me you had a breakthrough the night of the attack?”
“I guess you could call it that.” She was still uneasy around Chaos. He’d been so angry with her after Zenon brought her in, but he’d pulled it back as quickly as he’d lost it, like he’d flicked a switch and turned off his emotions, just like that. That steely control was what scared her most.
Zenon wasn’t the only one who had built up a wall, but when Chaos’s walls cracked, she got the feeling all hell would break loose.
He took a step closer. “How did you feel right before it happened?”
“I don’t know. Angry, scared.”
“Which was it, Mia? This is important.”
She gritted her teeth, biting back the smart-ass comment on the tip of her tongue. “Anger?” She tried to put herself back there. “Yeah, more than anything else I was angry.”
“You sure about that?”
She rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help it, he was so damned arrogant. “Yes, I’m sure.”
The door opened and they all turned to see Zenon storm in. His cold stare landed on James. “You weren’t there when I got back. You didn’t tell me you were seeing James today.”
Was he…jealous? “I forgot I had a training session until after you left.”
“I don’t think you want to be here for this,” Chaos said, breaking the stare down Zenon and James had going on.
His wide shoulders stiffened. “Why?”
Chaos gave him a hard stare. “You might not like my methods.”
Mia’s gaze moved between the two hulking males. “What do you mean?”
They both ignored her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Chaos watched Zenon for several silent seconds. The tension was so thick Mia wanted to squirm. “Suit yourself, but if you interfere, you’re out.”
Zenon didn’t reply, but she got the feeling he wouldn’t be easy to remove if that was what it came down to.
“Mia, look at me,” Chaos all but barked. She jumped and turned away from Zenon, but could feel the heat of his stare burning into her back. “What were you thinking right before you killed that demon?”
She flinched. She couldn’t help it. It was stupid. That thing would have killed her if she hadn’t done what she had. Still, it freaked her out that she was capable of destroying another living creature with her bare hands. She heard Zenon shift behind her.
Chaos sneered. “You don’t like that you killed that monster?”
“No, it’s just that I—”
“They would have tortured you, Mia. Taken turns with you. Mutilated you until you were barely recognizable.”
Her stomach lurched. “Stop. I don’t need to hear this, I—”
“What were you thinking?”
“Why are you—”
“Tell me now.” He was yelling at her, but Mia knew he still had complete control.
Oh God. She didn’t want to think about that night anymore.
He stepped forward and got in her face. Mia stumbled back. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Are you a coward, Mia?”
“No…I’m—”
He moved back in, crowding her. A quiet growl came from behind her. Zenon.
Chaos’s angry gaze darted behind her then back. “You know what I think? I think you’re afraid. You’re afraid of gaining your full powers because then you’d have to start all over again, start a whole new life, and that terrifies you.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Yes, I think—”
“I was thinking about my sister,” she yelled. “Of never seeing her again. The pain losing me would cause her. Missed experiences…never knowing what it was like to be…”
“What?” Chaos shouted.
“Loved, all right? Of never knowing what it was to be loved, the way Lazarus loves Eve, like Kryos loves Meredith.” The room went silent, but it was too late. That feeling built inside her chest, and like that night it didn’t stay buried there. It flew through her limbs. “Oh God,” she moaned. She couldn’t see them, could only hear the sound of their boots on the floor, moving toward her. “Stay back,” she screamed as energy shot from her fingers.
Once it left her body, she collapsed to the ground.
There was a shout followed by shuffling feet, then it went quiet, deathly so. Mia didn’t open her eyes, couldn’t. The acrid smell of burning plastic hit her the same time someone grabbed her shoulders. “Mia?”
Zenon.
She forced her eyes open and gasped. A basketball-sized hole was singed into the padded wall behind him. “I did that?”
“Yeah.” He brushed the hair back from her face.
“Oh my God. I’m a monster.”
He looked down at her, fierce, tender. “No, you’re not.”
“Mia?” James crouched down beside her and she felt Zenon’s grip tighten. “I know that was hard, but you did really good. Trust me, it can only get better from here on out.”
“I hope so.” She looked up in time to see Chaos’s back as he left the room. “That guy has the charm of a python.”
“He didn’t mean any of that, what he said to you.” James shrugged. “I didn’t have the heart to do it.”
Zenon stood, taking her with him, and she squeaked. “Let’s go. You’ve done enough for today.” He strode toward the door. Mia only had time to wave at James over his shoulder before they were moving down the hall.
“I can walk, you know.”
He grinned and nuzzled her neck. “I know.”
“Yet, there you are, still carrying me.”
“I like carrying you.”
“I’ve noticed.”
He chuckled and her belly tightened. He didn’t take her to his room, but instead to the fifth floor and out to the balcony, putting her down long enough to pull off his shirt. She gasped when his leathery wings snapped out.
“What are you doing?”
“I thought you might need some fresh air.” He smiled. God, she loved that smile. He looked so young, so beautiful.
“You’re taking me flying?” She had to stop herself from bouncing with excitement.
“Would you like to?”
“Yes. I would love that.” His wings were tucked into his back, the tips sitting high above his shoulders. “But first, would you let me touch your wings?”
To her surprise, he dipped his head. “Zenon? What’s wrong? If you don’t want me to, I won’t.”
When he looked up, his cheeks were flushed. He looked embarrassed, shamed. “Why would you want to? They’re not…they’re not soft like the others’. Most find them…disgusting.”
“They’re part of you. How could they be disgusting? I think they’re beautiful.” She stepped closer and reached up, running her palm down the outer edge. He sucked in a breath. “Can you feel that?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not hurting you, am I?”
“No.” He frowned. “It feels good.”
“Really?” He nodded, and she moved behind him, brushing her fingers down the center, along the inner curve. He shuddered and moaned softly. “They feel warm and so smooth.” She came back to his front and slid her arms around his waist. “Your wings are amazing, unique. Like you.”
His gaze darkened. “Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me. Not for doing something that gives you pleasure. Nothing makes me happier, Zenon. Nothing.”
He cupped the side of her face, brushed his thumb across her jaw, and kissed her. And when she was almost dizzy from the way he worshipped her mouth, he scooped her up in his arms and took flight.
She squealed in surprise, and he laughed, a wonderful carefree sound that warmed the center of her chest. “Hold tight,” he said against her ear. “I’m about to give you the ride of your life.”
Later that night on patrol, Zenon stood on a rooftop in the middle of the city and struggled to stay focused.
Mia had liked his wings.
A shiver moved through him when he remembered the way it felt having her hands on them, when she slid her fingers over their leathery surface. Helena hated his wings. She thought they were ugly. Mia didn’t, though—she said they were beautiful. Were they? Fucked if he knew. He’d always hated that they were another thing that made him different. But after today, the way she’d looked at them and touched them, he was glad they were the way they were, that they were different. She wasn’t the first to touch them, but she was the first to put her hands on them to give him pleasure not pain.
But then Mia had been giving him nothing but pleasure since she showed up.
He missed her. He’d only been away from her for a matter of hours and already he missed her.
He forced himself to focus back on the demon he’d been watching for the last ten minutes, when the guy turned suddenly and crossed the street, moving in Zenon’s direction. The demon ignored the honks, didn’t flinch or slow when several cars swerved, narrowly missing him. Nope, he kept coming like he was taking a damn Sunday stroll. When there was nothing but brick wall in front of him he stopped and looked up, right at Zenon, and waved.
What the fuck?
Shifting into his Kishi demon form, Zenon stepped off the side between two buildings, letting his wings catch the wind before he reached the alley floor below. He landed in a crouch, and the demon with a death wish appeared at the mouth of the alley a moment later.
He met the other male’s glazed-eyed, vacant stare. “What do you want?”
“I have a message for you, knight,” the demon said.
This was way too close to home, too close to the compound and too close to Mia.
Zenon moved in, Rocco at his side. The heavy steel door was closed, but that didn’t stop the low, muted beats thumping through the warehouse walls and echoing around the secluded lots.
Zenon turned to Rocco. The knight’s face was cast in shadow, making him look sinister as fuck. “What the hell is this?”
“Hope you’re wearing your dancing shoes, brother. Looks like we’re going to a rave,” Rocco said.
He had no idea what a fucking rave was but he didn’t like the sound of it. “I don’t dance.”
“No shit.” Rocco scanned the area around them. “You sure this is the place?”
“I guess I could have the address wrong. The fucker was choking on his own blood when I asked him to repeat it.”
Rocco snorted.
Zenon hadn’t planned on killing the demon, but as soon as he’d delivered his message he’d gone for his blade. The guy had basically committed suicide, forced to try and fight Zenon against his will. Because no demon was stupid enough to take him or one of his brothers on alone.
“I don’t sense any demons here.”
“Me either.”
They both knew this was some kind of setup, and had left Kryos and Lazarus back at the compound in case that had been the ultimate target.
“Gunner and Chaos should’ve secured the rear exit by now. Let’s go.”
Pulling their weapons, Zenon opened the door and they stepped inside.
Bright flashing strobe lights blinded him immediately. He lifted his arm to shield his eyes. The room was submerged in darkness then bathed in fluorescent light at a speed that would make anyone dizzy. With each flash, he caught a glimpse of the packed warehouse. Humans filled the huge space, moving to the terrible music pumping through the room so loud he couldn’t hear anything else.
Someone knocked into him. A human female grabbed onto his arm, mouth wide in a scream, silenced by the repetitive, blaring music. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her and blood bubbled up her throat, pouring down her chin. The female’s knees gave out and she fell to the floor.
That’s when he saw the truth of what was happening around him. The humans weren’t dancing. They were being massacred. Each flash of light revealed people running, screaming. Blood was everywhere, coating the walls, the floor under his boots.
Rocco grabbed his arm and his mouth moved rapidly, but Zenon couldn’t hear a word. They moved in, tried to help, to fight, but it was near impossible. Without the ability to sense the demons in the room, he didn’t know who to kill.
Then suddenly it all stopped. The strobe stopped flashing and they were cast in utter darkness. The eerie silence lifted the hair on the back of his neck. Then the lights came on and Zenon got his first proper look at the carnage around him.
Bodies littered the floor, not one human alive, and the demons that had slaughtered them stood motionless, unresponsive, coated in blood.
Rocco cursed repeatedly while he searched in vain for survivors.
Chaos and Gunner moved toward them from the other side of the room, stepping over what remained of the humans lured there, and met them in the middle.
Gunner rubbed his hands over his whiskered jaw. “Message well and truly received.”
Yeah, no one could miss it. These guys were powerful, organized…and fucked in the head.
Rage hardened Chaos’s face, and ice shot from his intense, dark gaze. “How the fuck do we fight this when something or someone is blocking them? We need to find the source, discover who’s controlling them.”
Zenon couldn’t agree more. “First things first. We need to clean this up.”
“Burn it to the ground.” Chaos glanced at the still motionless demons dotted around the room. “Leave them inside.”
Back at the compound, Rocco motioned Zenon to follow him into his bathroom and started pulling first aid supplies out of the cupboard. He’d taken a knife wound in the warehouse and hadn’t even noticed.
“So what’s going on between you and Mia?” Rocco asked.
They’d talked in circles after they’d left the warehouse and come up with nada. Everyone was stressed to shit, so he wasn’t surprised by Roc’s need for another line of conversation right then. But Mia sure as hell wasn’t it.
Zenon looked at Rocco and cocked a brow.
The other knight dropped his gaze and threaded a needle with surgical nylon like a pro. “You ever wonder what it’s like—the mating, I mean?”
Yes. Far more than he should. He didn’t say that, though. Instead he shook his head.
“Laz, Kryos, the way they describe it…the little they’ve shared, anyway.” He lifted his gaze to Zenon. “Fuck, it gives me goose bumps, makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. That’s just from hearing them talk about it. How can something be that good?”
Zenon shook his head. “I’ve never heard them talk about it,” he admitted.
Rocco’s brows shot up. “You know how it goes down, though, yeah?”
Zenon shook his head again. He’d always avoided those conversations.
Rocco started cleaning around the cut with an antiseptic wipe. “They say there’s this thread, or spark or a light, or whatever, but that you’ll know when you see it. That while you’re taking her, it appears. Only we can see it.” His voice had grown deeper. “All we have to do is reach for it, take hold. That’s what binds you to her and her to you.” He cleared his throat. “Laz, shit, not even Kryos could find the words to describe how it feels in that moment.” He looked up from what he was doing. “Sounds good, right?”
It sounded better than good. And hearing what he would miss out on, what he couldn’t have, yeah, it hurt more than any damn knife wound.
But he didn’t miss the look in Roc’s eyes, something he hadn’t seen before. And he didn’t think this line of conversation was just about him and Mia. “What’s going on? Is this about that waitress you can’t keep away from?”
Rocco sucked in a breath then surprised Zenon by saying, “Yeah, actually.” He grinned. “She’s mine. She’s my mate.”
Damn. That, he was not expecting. “She know?”
“Not yet. Soon, though. She hasn’t come into her powers yet. Still, I felt her, felt that connection almost instantly. I didn’t know that could happen, but there’s no mistaking it.”
“You gonna bring her in?”
Rocco shook his head and dropped his gaze back to Zenon’s wound. “She’s hellsgate.”
“Fuck.”
“She has the Beast’s mark, like Eve did.”
Zenon took in Rocco and didn’t miss the stress on his face. “What are you going to do?”
Roc shook his head. “She’s safe for now. And I’m being careful, making sure none of Diemos’s minions are watching us. I just…I can’t risk bringing her in before she transitions and we’re mated, not after what happened with Eve, with our brothers.” He lifted his head, gaze meeting Zenon’s. “Right now, there’s no way for Diemos or any of his army to sense her, not before she gains her powers. And when that happens, I’ll be right there with her. They will not touch her.”
Zenon dipped his chin. Eve was hellsgate, and before her and Laz mated things had gotten seriously fucked up. Roc had almost attacked Eve, and Zenon hadn’t been far behind him. Until Rocco mated his female there was the risk that could happen again.
“You change your mind about Mia?” Rocco asked him.
“No.”
His course was set. Nothing could change that. He knew what he was doing with Mia was wrong and unbelievably selfish, but he couldn’t stop it, not yet.
The other warriors knew Mia was staying with him, and more than likely assumed he’d changed his mind about making her his mate.
He never wanted them to know the truth about him, what he did to survive. Even if they did know, nothing could be done. Not even Silas, a powerful angel, could save his ass.
“Brace, brother, ’cause this shit’s gonna sting.” Roc pressed open the knife wound to the front of his shoulder then poured what felt like liquid fire into the four-inch gash.
He jolted, gritted his teeth, dug his fingers into the sink behind him to stay upright, and with serious effort managed not to snarl.
He usually took care of his own injuries, but the awkward position meant he had to ask for help. He hated asking for help. Their bodies healed on their own pretty fast, but a knife wound like his would take longer without a helping hand.
Roc squeezed the sides together and got stitching. By the time he’d finished, Zen’s patience had dissolved, and though it wasn’t Rocco’s fault he got stuck with a knife, he was ready to knock the guy’s head off his shoulders.
“You done?” The loss of blood had weakened him, used precious energy he didn’t have to spare. It was only a matter of time before the pain would swamp his limbs, before he was a living, breathing ball of agony.
“Yes and you’re welcome.”
Zenon grunted. “Yeah, thanks.”
Roc finished taping him up and handed over his shirt. “You all right, man? You look kinda pale.”
Zenon gave him a “well, duh” look then tucked his shirt in the back of his jeans. No way was he getting it back on tonight, and not just because of the five stitches Roc had decorated him with either. His skin burned, throbbed. The familiar sensation never got easier, no matter how many times it happened.
He turned to Rocco before he walked out the door. “Good luck, man.”
Rocco held his gaze. “You, too, brother.”
By the time he got back to his apartment, it was two in the morning and he thanked God Mia wouldn’t be awake to see him like this again.
He kicked off his boots and with shaking hands tugged the denim down his legs, unable to bear the rough fabric against his skin. He needed a shower, but there was no time for that now. He should sleep on the couch, but he needed to see her, to feel her by his side. He didn’t want to suffer this alone anymore. Even if she didn’t know it was happening.
In the past when he’d pushed the time between his visits to Helena and it got really bad, there was always the thought in the back of his mind that maybe he’d left it too long, that maybe he wouldn’t come out of it this time. Sometimes the thought was a welcome one, but not tonight.
The room was dark, but he could see her body silhouetted under the covers, could hear the slow measured sound of her breathing, a sound he’d grown accustomed to. Couldn’t fucking sleep without. She’d been with him little over a week, and in that week she’d burrowed so damn deep it was frightening. He knew when the time came he’d feel her absence like a missing limb, like a part of him had been ripped away.
Pulling back the sheet as carefully as his trembling hands would allow, he climbed in beside her.
Moments later, everything came crashing down around him. This time was bad, worse than usual. That bitch hadn’t given him jack shit, had held back again so he’d be forced to return to her sooner. That, along with the blood loss he’d suffered, was gonna make for a messy night.
Then it all became too much and he concentrated on closing down his mind, trying to disengage from the rest of his body. He focused on Mia, on the sound of each subtle inhalation. Convinced himself that he could feel the heat from her body pressed against his, even though he knew he lay on the other side of the bed, far enough way so he wouldn’t wake her.
He closed down his senses, focusing on one thing: getting through this—just one more time. Because this time Mia waited on the other side. Closing his eyes, he zoned out as best he could, letting wave after wave of agony take him away.
When he was pulled from the darkness the first time, he was aware of the warmth surrounding him. Gentle heat seeped through his skin, crept into his limbs and began to ease the deep ache racking his body. He’d been cold, so very cold. He didn’t know how many hours had passed, but finally he felt like he could draw breath.
Then he was sucked back under.
When he came around the second time, it felt like he’d been asleep for years. His lids were heavy, his eyes scratchy. Opening them in that moment seemed impossible. But his muscles ached in a pleasant way, kind of like they did after a serious workout and a long hot shower. And then he heard her—Mia.
Her voice was soft, close. She was talking to him. He couldn’t make out most of the words, but the tone was one you’d use on someone you cared about, someone important.
Finally, his other senses followed, easing back to life. And oh God, she was pressed against him, her soft curves molded to his front, her arms wrapped around his waist. Her face was buried against his throat, and she murmured softly, causing her warm lips to brush against his skin. It tickled, making his scalp tingle.
Yeah, it was pretty much the best moment of his entire life.
During his time in Hell, or when he was with his mistress he disconnected, didn’t want to feel. Feeling anything was bad. But with Mia—shit, it was like his world had moved from black and white to vibrant color.
Still out of it, he only managed to pick up the odd word she was saying. But what he did hear made his gut tighten and his heart seize. They were words no one had ever said to him before, words he never thought he would ever hear, not directed his way. Emotion swamped him with a strength he struggled to process. Mia was warming him, soothing him—taking care of him.
Like he mattered.
She cared about him. No one had ever cared about him, not like this.
Shit, he was close to crying like a fucking pussy again.
“You back with me?” she whispered against his ear.
He shivered and tried to speak, but his voice came out nothing but a croak.
“Shh, don’t try to talk yet.” She tightened her hold on him and he sucked in a breath to calm his shit down. Mia had twice seen him at his weakest, but no way would she see him sobbing because someone finally gave a fuck.
He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m…I’m good.” The stuttering probably didn’t do much to convince her of that.
“It happened again, didn’t it? Like last time?”
“Yeah.”
She lifted up, and he rolled to his back so she was looking down at him. She bit her lip when her gaze landed on the dressing covering the front of his shoulder. “You’re hurt.”
“Just a scratch. It’ll be gone in a couple of days.”
She nodded, trusting him to tell her the truth. That equally pleased him and made him feel like an asshole all at the same time. “Can you tell me why this keeps happening?”
He owed her some kind of explanation, something after all she’d done for him. “I was born in Hell, Mia. Yeah, I’m made up of the same basic DNA as the others, but I’m still different…I’m more demon than angel.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “But that’s not even it. Something mutated when I was growing in that bitch who birthed me. Earth lacks something I need to survive. Over time the pain steadily grows worse until I’m forced to…” He struggled to find the right word. “…recharge. Then the cycle starts all over again.”
“So this happens a lot?”
“It’s not as bad as it seems.” A lie, but better that than the awful truth.
She didn’t look convinced, but didn’t call him on it. “How do you recharge? Is there something I can do to help?”
He grinned, tried to lighten the moment, play down the hell that was his truth. “It’s top secret angel business. Silas would cut off my allowance if I told you that.” She smiled in return, but he didn’t miss the concern in her beautiful eyes. He pulled her down and touched his lips to hers for no other reason than he had to. “Having you with me helps more than you’ll ever know.”
She looked tired, and he realized she’d been up all night looking after him. Pulling her down, he tucked her into his side and wrapped her in his arms, again reveling in the sensation of having her so close. It still amazed him her touch didn’t freak him out. He craved it.
“Sleep, Mia.”
Moments later, her breathing slowed and he knew she’d drifted off. But Zenon didn’t sleep. Instead he relayed every touch, every word she’d whispered to him, over and over in his mind, locking it in tight.
And for once he allowed himself to imagine what things might have been. How his life could have been different if he wasn’t a slave, if he’d been born different—if Mia could be his.
“Harder this time, Mia. Don’t hold back,” Zenon growled as he came at her again.
He grabbed her arm as if he were an attacker, this time from a different angle. Swinging out, she attempted a knife hand strike to the side of his neck, the move used to temporarily stun your attacker. He grunted and yanked her forward. Mia threw up her other hand, like she would if she were to use the heel of her palm to strike up and under his nose, but pulled back at the last minute.
Zenon growled again and swept her legs out from underneath her, laying her flat.
She hit the mat hard. “Oomph.” Mia gasped, worked at getting oxygen back into her lungs.
He held out a hand. “Up. Come on. Again.”
Okay, now he was just pissing her off. “I’ve had enough for today.”
He shook his head. “Up, Mia. Now. We’re going again.”
She tried to stare him down. “No.”
“You think a demon gives a shit you’re tired?” He was scowling down at her, but after three weeks of amazing orgasms and tender moments, he didn’t scare her anymore. Zenon was gentle, attentive—and filled with so much pain it tore her apart every time she saw that shadow creep across his face. But right then he was being a stubborn ass. She’d told him about the self-defense classes she’d started and how disappointed she was to be missing them. He’d had her training every day since, almost obsessively.
She shook her head. “I’ve had enough.” He reached down and grabbed her hand, attempting to yank her up off the floor. “I said no.”
“Get the fuck up now. You’ve had enough when I say so.”
Oh, that was it. She kicked out then, nailing him in the knee. It jarred back awkwardly and he sucked in a breath. Copying the move he’d used on her, she swung out and swept his leg out from under him.
His big body hit the mat. Hard.
“Shit.” She scrambled over to him. “Zenon? Are you all right? I’m sorry.” He was making a weird noise. Oh God, she’d really hurt him. “Should I get help? Are you all right?”
When he looked up at her, he was grinning so wide she was almost blinded by all those straight white teeth. The bastard was laughing.
“You think that’s funny?”
He nodded, holding his side while laughing so hard she thought he’d rupture something.
She smacked him on the shoulder. “Jerk.”
She spun around to make a pissy departure, but before she could take two steps, she was in the air, spun around then flat on her back. Zenon loomed over her. “You’re not going anywhere. I told you I haven’t finished with you yet.”
“Oh right, how could I forget? I’ve had enough when you say so.” She said the last part in a mock deep, growly voice.
“That’s right. Finally she gets it.” The grin was still firmly in place, and Mia had to work at not smiling in return.
“Okay, you have me where you want me, so now what?” Heat darkened his gaze. She’d grown to love that look. A lot.
“You need to be punished.”
“What do you have in mind?” She sounded breathless, needy, and she didn’t give a damn.
Sliding his hand up her shirt, he glided rough fingers over her stomach to the sensitive underside of her breast. “If I tell you, the surprise will be ruined.”
God, she loved this. This teasing, playful side. It had come out more and more over the last few days, and every time playful Zenon made an appearance she had the urge to hold her breath, afraid to break the spell. Reaching out a hand, he chuckled evilly as he used his powers to lock the door. The sound of it sliding into place filled the charged silence.
He continued to stroke her skin, making her squirm. “It’s a good thing I love surprises, then.”
The wicked glint in his eyes almost made her want to take those words back. Almost. “You have trouble with self-control and following instruction. Those things are important. So I’m going to teach you.”
That didn’t sound good. “What are you—”
He shook his head. “For the purposes of this lesson, you will not speak, Mia, not until I tell you to. You will not move unless I tell you to. Nod if you understand.”
Her blood rushed faster, her heart pounded harder. She’d learned fairly quickly that Zenon like to take control when they were in bed. She’d also learned that she loved it. She didn’t know why, but Zenon needed this, needed to feel as though he had full control, and she was happy to give it to him. He turned from a male who came across as unsure, almost shy at times, to something else entirely.
He pinched her nipple, not enough to hurt, but enough to make her gasp. She nodded.
“Good girl. Now lift your arms.” She did as he asked and he pulled up her shirt, but instead of removing it fully, tangled it around her wrists. “Is that all right, princess?”
She nodded again, and he grinned, a lopsided sexy grin that caused liquid heat to flood her sex. He’d also started calling her princess. She loved it. Her bra came off next, torn from her body without apology. He slipped off her sneakers, followed by her underwear and yoga pants. He slid them down her legs slowly, his dark gaze moving across her bare skin.
Now completely naked, she lay sprawled on the mat, waiting for what would come next.
“Bend your knees and open yourself for me.” His voice was harsh, rough, and she shivered. She did as he asked, heart pounding, anticipation flowing through her veins. He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing all that beautiful inked skin, all those vicious scars she knew marked him inside and out. “So fucking beautiful,” he rasped.
He knelt beside her and ran his index finger from the indent in her throat down between her breasts then across to circle a nipple. The touch was light, barely there, and she arched up, needing more. He took his hand away and she groaned.
“No moving, or I stop.” The serious note to his voice wasn’t very effective, not with the wicked tilt of those tempting lips.
Oh, he was enjoying this.
The throb between her thighs increased and she wanted desperately to squeeze her legs together to ease the ache. She stilled and he chuckled in that dark way that sent delicious shivers across her skin. He ignored all her naughty bits and instead ran his fingers over her arms, her stomach, across her hip. Finally, he bent down and kissed the smooth skin just below her belly button. “Sometimes I can’t believe you’re real and not something I dreamed up in my mind.”
His quietly spoken words stole her breath. How could he say that when he got nothing in return from her? He still hadn’t made love to her. He didn’t even take off his jeans when they slept together. His attention was always solely focused on her, what she needed, what she desired. And then he’d say something like that and she knew there was so much more to this male. There were things that she would never know about him, things she wanted to know more than anything else in this whole world.
He leaned in and trailed soft kisses from her belly to the underside of her breast. She held her breath, letting it out on a moan when he closed his lips over her nipple and sucked gently. His hand skimmed her waist and moved down. He shifted, moving his thick, muscled thighs between her legs, holding her open while he ran a finger down her aching center.
“So wet, Mia. So hot.”
He kissed her deep and hungry, thrusting two fingers inside her, taking her in a deliciously rough way. When she was gasping and panting, he pressed his thumb against her clit. That was all she needed, and she flew apart beneath him. Her body bowed almost painfully, her hips moving of their own volition, dragging out her release. Her body gripped his fingers tight, holding him inside her.
When she came down and her breathing evened out, she opened her eyes. Zenon was watching her, and that dark heat was still there, as well as a possessive hunger she was growing to crave.
I love you.
The words bounced around her head, and she knew they were shining from her eyes like a beacon. Oh God, she loved him.
His lids fluttered closed, and he pulled from her body then pushed to his feet.
“Zenon?”
He paced back and forth a few times, his breath sawing in and out, then he roared, a sound so filled with rage and agony Mia felt it to her bones. She scrambled away until her back met padding, not sure what to do or what to say.
He pulled back a fist and slammed it into wall repeatedly in a frenzy of emotion that saturated the room.
Mia didn’t know what had set him off. Why would her loving him make him so angry? But then his grunts turned to sobs and she couldn’t bear it.
Scrambling off the floor, she came at him from the side so he knew it was her and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Stop, Zenon. Stop this.” He kept at it until blood smeared the wall in front of him, his knuckles raw and split. What the hell had he been through? Who did this to him? Tears tracked a heated path down her face. She squeezed his shoulder to get his attention. “Stop it, Zenon. Please, stop it.”
He spun away from her and thrust his hands in his hair, breathing hard, pacing the room again.
“Look at me. Please.”
He shook his head and let his chin drop so his hair fell forward, covering his face. That alone killed her. He hadn’t tried to hide from her since they’d been together. She knew what it meant, and the pain of it had the power to knock the wind from her lungs.
“What’s going on?”
He shook his head over and over. “I can’t…we can’t do this anymore. I was wrong to use you like this. It was a mistake. It should never have happened.”
“No.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “You don’t mean that.”
He lifted his head, eyes blank, distant. “I told you, I can’t be your prince, Mia.”
She flinched like he’d slapped her, and stumbled back a step. “Why are you doing this?”
“It’s time.”
That was all he said, all the explanation she got after three glorious weeks. Jesus, it hurt. But this pain wasn’t hers alone. His reaction proved that.
“If you need time…if you—”
“I don’t need time. It’s over.”
“That’s it? You’re throwing me away, just like that, like I meant nothing to you?”
He looked down again. “You said you’d only take what I could give. I don’t have anything left. This is…it’s too much.”
She hugged herself tighter. She got attached, she fell in love. That was her mistake.
“Did I ask too much of you? Did I do something wrong?” She had never felt more vulnerable in her entire life. She was standing there completely naked, all but begging him not to let her go, and right then she didn’t give a damn.
“No,” he choked. “You did nothing wrong. This is on me.”
“So that’s it?” She sounded desperate but she couldn’t make herself shut up.
“This had to end sometime.” Yeah, he’d seen it in her eyes, and now he was running scared. “I’ll have your things moved to another room.” There was no emotion in his voice. It was completely flat and chilled her to the bone. Goose bumps covered her skin and she tried to rub them away. She didn’t think she’d ever feel warm again.
“I’m sorry, Mia.”
Anger welled up inside her and she lashed out. “You want to close yourself off, throw me aside as soon as real emotion is involved, that’s your deal.” She bent down and gathered her clothes, shoving them on.
Then she unlocked the door and yanked it open. She didn’t turn back, couldn’t. Seconds later she was walking down the hall on autopilot, pain lancing her soul. She tried to shut it down, block it off, but there was no containing what was happening inside her. It pumped through her blood, ripped through her limbs. It went beyond pain, like something had been torn from her body, a vital part of her that she couldn’t live without. She headed straight for the elevators and punched in the floor that housed the demi-demons.
She had to find James. The sooner she got her powers unlocked and mastered, the sooner she could get out of this place and join her sister.
She needed to start that new life.