8. Wolf
Chapter 8
Wolf
M y father had a thing for large parties. When I was younger, I loved them. It gave me an excuse to run away for a while, to sneak wine and ale and eat the nicest foods from all over the kingdom.
But now? It made me sick to see the corrupt, evil archangel and his closest companions celebrating and drinking as if they had no problems in this world, as if they weren’t the sole ones responsible for people dying and starving all around Vaehatis.
I gave Huntyr time alone to prepare. My father, of course, required her to wear a certain dress that he made specially for this event. She had gone from his prisoner in the dungeon to his prized possession in his castle.
How fucking fitting.
Of course, all of this was another ploy in his sick, twisted games. He didn’t care about Huntyr’s birthday. He sure as all hells didn’t care about celebrating her or making her feel special tonight.
This was all for him. He had something to gain from this, and every nerve in my body tensed when I thought about what that could possibly be.
I knocked on my bedroom door twice. I wasn’t usually one for knocking, but tonight felt different. Huntyr wasn’t just in there rotting away, waiting for me to come back with a bowl of soup so she could yell and fight again.
When she didn’t answer, I cracked the door open. “Huntyr?”
I found her in the doorway of the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror that hung from the wall. She wore a floor-length gold gown that covered her arms in long strings of draping jewels. Much of her back was exposed, as were the scars that lingered there. Her hair was tucked up, showing her neck and the delicate skin of her shoulders.
“I don’t want to do this,” she said, barely a whisper.
I stepped into the room and shut the door behind me. I approached until I was behind her in the reflection, able to look into her eyes from behind. “That makes two of us.”
She scoffed. “Don’t pretend like we’re in the same situation here, Wolf.”
“I’m not pretending at all. I don’t want to see you go through this, either.”
She adjusted the straps of her dress. Fuck, she was so beautiful. I stepped closer, unable to stop myself, and lifted a finger to trace one of the scars that wrapped around her right shoulder.
She shivered as our skin made contact but didn’t back away.
“I’ll protect you tonight, Huntress, no matter what.”
She smiled softly in the mirror. “I really wish I could believe that.”
My stomach dropped. Of course, she couldn’t actually believe that. After everything I did, how could she possibly expect me to protect her?
“And if all else fails, there will be plenty of wine,” I added, ignoring her diss of a comment.
“What do you think he wants with me tonight, anyway? Why go through all the trouble?” She turned to face me, her arm brushing mine. “He could just as easily keep me locked away until my full powers manifest.”
“I think keeping you locked in a dungeon was clearly a bad idea, so he’s doing whatever it takes to swing things in the other direction. I think he’ll try to impress you, try to win you over.”
“Like that will ever work.”
“I know you, Huntress. You have to play this smart.” I dropped the smile from my face and lifted her chin with one finger, making sure she really heard me. “He won’t allow you to embarrass him tonight.”
“How could I possibly embarrass an archangel?” She sucked in a breath, eyes wide.
“By defying him. By speaking out against him. Trust me, however much you hate him, you have to be careful.” Don’t speak up. Don’t be the sexy, stubborn, tough woman you are. “He wants to have all the power. All of it. If he thinks for even a second that you have a leg to stand on, he’ll?—”
“I get it,” she interrupted, tearing herself away. The scent of her washed over me as she moved to the other side of the room. “Keep my mouth shut and do as he says. I have some practice with powerful males, you know.”
I tightened my fists at my sides. “That’s not making me feel any better.”
She glanced over her shoulder. I waited for some sort of remark on how it wasn’t her job to make me feel better or some other quip, but she only smiled softly, something like pity etched onto her face. “Let’s just get this over with so we can figure out how we’re going to get out of it later, okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah, okay.” She headed toward the door, but I stopped her. “Wait.”
Her large, perfect eyes looked back at me, waiting. “What is it?”
I walked over to her slowly, taking my time as I closed the distance between us. “It’s your birthday,” I started.
She rolled her eyes. “Please don’t remind me. I’m finally not on the verge of vomiting for once and I don’t want to ruin it.”
“It’s your birthday,” I said again, ignoring her interruptions. “I want to give you something.”
She eyed me carefully as I approached, coming to stand a breath away from her. Those fucking cherries. She was damn near irresistible, and I hated that my father was going to parade her around the court tonight like his possession.
Huntyr wasn’t someone to be contained. She was wild, free. Unstoppable.
Seeing her like this tonight, it wrapped a fist around my heart and squeezed. I knew what it felt like to be forced into this world, to be forced under his rule. There was no freedom. There was no independence.
Not until we found a way out of it.
“Here.” I reached into the back of my belt and pulled out the dagger—Venom. Since Asmodeus dragged her to the dungeon, she hadn’t asked about it.
She sucked in a breath as the metal came to view. “What—how did?—”
“It has been safe with me this whole time. I wanted to give it to you sooner, but I didn’t know if Asmodeus would search your things. I think tonight’s a good night to have it back, though, wouldn’t you agree?”
Tears welled in her eyes as she glanced between me and the dagger. “I can’t believe this,” she whispered, hiccupping a laugh. “I thought she was gone forever! I thought surely he would have destroyed this.”
“I would never let that happen.” It felt dramatic, this bold remark over a weapon, but we both knew Venom was much more than just a weapon. It was a reminder of home, of where Huntyr came from, of how much was at stake here.
A reminder to live.
Her fingers moved to curl around mine. “I don’t know what to say, Wolf. Thank you.”
A single tear escaped her charcoal-lined eyes, and I reached up to swipe it away quickly with my thumb. “Happy birthday, Huntress.”
“Will you help me hide this in my dress?” Her voice suddenly became more hopeful than I had heard it in weeks.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Promise me you won’t go stabbing Asmodeus the first chance you get. You know he can’t be killed with this, right?”
She turned toward the bathroom. “It wouldn’t hurt to try.”
She braced herself over the counter, waiting for me. I sauntered after her, taking in every inch of her beauty before I reached up and unlaced her delicate bodice.
My body buzzed at the feeling of my hands brushing against her skin. Being this close to her always had that effect on me, always caused my heart to beat faster, my senses to lock in on her.
Ever so slowly, lace after lace, I untied her dress.
I stayed focused on my task, eyes not wandering to her breasts that became more and more exposed as I further unlaced her.
She remained silent.
It wasn’t until I unlaced her dress down to her waist that I finally looked in the mirror, only to find her looking back at me. A wave of emotion hit me though our bond. The last few days, it had been rare to get even a hint of what she was feeling.
It was as if she opened the floodgates, no longer hiding behind those walls she built.
I sucked in a breath as sweet longing and lust hit me. I ran my finger down her bare spine, feeling it even more.
“Huntress,” I whispered, eyes fluttering closed.
She spun to face me, still leaning against the counter but looking directly into my eyes now. “Why did you do it?” she asked.
Through the lust and longing and want of the bond, I felt something break through, like glass shattering. It was hurt, pain, but not physical. This pain was deeper, darker, the kind you couldn’t see.
And it was ten times worse.
“Do what?” I searched her eyes, looking for her beneath the sudden clouds in her features.
“You know what. Don’t make me say it again.”
Why did I betray her? Hurt her? Turn her in? Tell her I loved her and go back on everything I said? “I thought, once I completed the job for my father, I would get my white wings back. I thought he would allow me at least that for returning from Moira with you. I was naive back then, and I hadn’t met you yet.”
She waited, eyes wide. “You did this all for wings?”
I lifted a hand and ran my pointer finger down her jaw. She tilted her head further, giving me more access as she closed her eyes briefly.
“I meant what I said earlier. He can take my wings ten times over if it means keeping you safe. All of that—the agreement with him, the plan to bring you back here—was before I knew you. Before I fell for you. Before I had a reason to fight for anything more.”
Her eyes opened, glistening with fresh tears. “And now? He takes your wings and you do nothing but sit back and watch?”
“I’m waiting for the right time,” I answered. “My time will come, Huntress, and I swear to the goddess above, I’ll put a stop to this.”
Her chest rose with a breath. “I don’t want to get hurt again. I can’t.”
“I know.”
“I’m afraid to trust you again.”
A breath lingered between us.
“I know.”
Her gaze landed on my mouth, and for a torturous, immaculate second, I thought she might kiss me. But that sharp dagger of pain shot through our bond again, the harsh reality that she was the one living with what I had done.
I did far more than simply betray her.
I was no worse than the male who spent his time giving her those scars.
She spun around, facing the mirror again before I could do something stupid like run my thumb across her perfectly plump lips or nuzzle my nose into her neck and inhale the intoxicating scent of her. “Put it here,” she said, signaling to the side of her bodice. She held the front tightly against her as I maneuvered the metal against her skin.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked. “If someone sees that you have a weapon, it could end badly.”
She stared at her own reflection in the mirror then, eyes glazing over as she answered, “Sharp blades and even sharper teeth. Weren’t you the one who taught me that?”
I didn't answer, didn’t trust myself to. Hells, when had I grown so soft? When had I let this woman crawl into the deep cave of my chest and funnel there, warming my icy heart from the inside out?
It didn’t matter. I finished lacing her dress for her—even though we both knew she could do it herself—and led her to the door.
Huntyr would have my heart forever now, even if she would not accept it.