Chapter Three
VANESSA
I IGNORE THE blisters forming along my palm as I yank at my office door, my desperation to leave growing by the second.
My panic is all-consuming, and I struggle to regulate my breathing as I continue pulling at the knob. Chev probably wedged something against the door, preventing it from opening, and I grimace as I give another unfruitful yank. I have no idea how long I’ve been locked inside here, probably no longer than five minutes, and I let out a frustrated shout as I kick the wood.
It hurts my foot.
“Help!” I scream.
Nobody answers, and I grimace before trying again.
A wiser person probably would’ve accepted that nobody was around to hear them, but I refuse to give up. It’s only a matter of time before somebody walks down the hallway and hears my angry shouts.
The shifters really chose the thickest wood money could buy, so I’m sure my screams aren’t traveling far.
I scan the room for something I can use to break the door. I tried doing it with my fists, but all that’s earned me is a sore wrist and bruised knuckles. My palms are sweaty and sticky as I pull open my dresser drawers and look for something, anything, I can use.
This room is empty, and I doubt the laptop or charging plug I’ve been given will be of any help.
Wait. I can message Echo.
My computer chair tips over with the force I use to shove it out of the way. It takes me three tries to unlock my computer, my shaky hands and frazzled mind causing me to type my password in wrong the first two times. I tap my foot impatiently against the floor as I navigate my way to my messages, angry with both myself and the computer for its slower-than-instant speed.
I think I might be hyperventilating again, and I freeze when I hear something in the hallway. Footfalls. Two pairs of them.
I’m back at the door a second later, banging against it with a scream. It’s about time somebody made their way here. I grow louder when the feet stop just outside my office door, and I listen carefully to the sound of something heavy being slid aside.
I knew Chev propped something up against the door.
It’s pushed open, and my lips curl into a relieved smile before I see who’s standing in the hallway. Chev is back, and he’s not alone. The large man beside him has entirely black eyes and hair, and I immediately recognize him from the news.
He’s a demon, the King of Wrath. Aziel.
I step back into the room, my heart dropping. What are they doing here?
Aziel looks me up and down as Chev did earlier, but I’m happy to note there’s no sexual nature to his gaze. If anything, he looks bored, which I take as a good sign. I like when men aren’t happy with what they see. It means they’ll leave me alone.
“Who’s this?” he asks, turning to Chev.
I curl my fingers around the fabric of my shirt, my eyes darting nervously between the two men. Why did Chev bring Aziel here? Does Chev know I’m being placed at the Wrath facility?
I hope not. I don’t want him to know anything about me.
Chev shifts his weight from foot to foot. “This is Vanessa,” he says. His tone is soft, regretful even, but I know it’s a lie. “She’s my mate.”
I don’t want him. I don’t want a mate.
Chev’s muscles flex, and his hands fidget at his sides. He wants to touch me, grab me, and it’s taking everything in him not to do so. I wonder what’s stopping him. He’s stronger than I am. We both know it, and I know shifters feel ownership over their mates.
It’s probably because of Mammon. The Queen of Greed has been trying to turn the elves and other blessed breeds against the shifters and demons. She’s publicly spoken out against them since the demon war, and if she catches wind of Chev forcing himself on a female, she’ll have all the ammunition she needs.
She wants to absorb Wrath and the shifter lands, forcing Aziel and Chev to submit to her. That’s probably the only thing holding Chev back.
He may pretend to be a good man, but at the end of the day, he’s part animal. He runs on instinct, and that instinct is no doubt telling him to take me.
Something inside me whispers something similar, whispers for me to take him, but it’s easy to ignore. My mind has been broken and reformed what feels like a million times, and I’m good at denying my wants.
Aziel looks confused, his eyebrow furrowing as he looks between my red, splotchy face and Chev’s nervous one. The shifter tries to make eye contact with me, but I refuse to give it.
That’s only going to encourage him.
“Oh,” Aziel says, his words slow as he tries to read the room. “Congratulations?”
I struggle to find my voice, my fear making it impossible to think. Going silent is a defense mechanism, and no amount of intense therapy has been able to break me from the habit. Instead, I shake my head. My blonde hair whips around my face, and a low whine slips from Chev’s throat.
The noise calls to me, the repressed part of my soul desperate for him, but I ignore it.
I don’t want a mate.
“She denies me,” Chev says.
Aziel looks shocked. “She smells like a blessed breed. Does she not feel the bond?”
He steps toward me, but he freezes when I scurry back. It’s the same dance I did with Chev, but Aziel doesn’t seem particularly keen to play as he returns to his original position by the door. He already has a full harem with his three mates, and I can tell he’s not interested in me. It makes me happy.
“I accidently uncovered my penis,” Chev whispers. He sounds ashamed. I don’t believe it. “I was too excited, and I scared her.”
Unwanted tears fill my eyes. For a brief moment, I thought he intended to rape me. I’m still not entirely convinced that he doesn’t.
Chev whines again. My body recognizes it and urges me to comfort him, but I refuse. I’ve mindlessly followed my instincts one too many times, trusting men because they seemed nice and I was desperate for a friendship. Some stupid bond isn’t going to make a fool of me.
“Is this what you brought me here for?” Aziel asks.
Chev nods. “Yes.”
Aziel straightens his spine and turns toward Chev. He looks pissed, and I step back as the full strength of his power reaches me. It makes me want to drop to my knees and submit, but I refuse. The therapists say we aren’t supposed to do that anymore.
“You said this was an emergency,” Aziel seethes. “You physically took my child out of my arms and demanded I bring you back here.”
Chev doesn’t seem to care about the anger pouring from the Wrath as he grunts and wildly gestures in my direction. I eye the distance between them and the door.
I doubt I could make it past Chev, let alone Aziel. The demons can teleport, making my speed useless. He can catch me in a heartbeat, even if I have a decent head start.
“This is an emergency, Aziel,” Chev argues. “I’ve found my mate, and she’s scared of me.”
My head pounds. I don’t like when men talk about me like I’m not here—like I’m some object and not a real person.
Aziel runs a hand through his hair. “This is not an emergency.”
He turns toward me. I flinch, staring at the milky spit-up on his shoulder so I don’t have to look into his angry eyes.
“You’re expected to arrive at my facility in a few hours, aren’t you?” he asks.
I hesitate before giving a jerky nod.
Aziel frowns. “Well, I suppose I can take you now.”
He holds out his arm. I don’t move.
“Chev can’t teleport, and I’ll let the portal operators know not to let him enter the facility,” he says. “I’ll speak with Echo tonight and let her know the situation. I imagine she’ll want to talk with you.”
There’s no reason for me to believe Aziel. I know that, but I still find myself inching forward. He’s mated to Charlotte, the woman who spearheaded this entire thing, and I’d like to believe that means something.
Plus, I’m desperate to get away from Chev.
The shifter looks angry, his arms crossed over his chest as the vein in his forehead pulsates. The infuriating part of my soul that recognizes him as my mate urges me to remain by his side, but I won’t give in to it.
I don’t trust Aziel, but I don’t have many other options right now. I’d rather go with him than stay here with Chev.
Chev steps between Aziel and me, his wide stance screaming trouble. Aziel doesn’t seem concerned, but he’s not in a position to be. The shifter is no threat to him, not like he is to me.
“Vanessa,” Chev says. “I’m so sorry I scared you. I was excited to show you my mark, but I know I shouldn’t have come on so strongly. Can we talk? Please? Aziel can stay in the room.”
A hopeful smile spreads over his lips, but it falls when I shake my head.
Even if he’s being genuine, it doesn’t change the fact that I want nothing to do with him. I don’t trust males, and I especially don’t trust ones who think they have some fated ownership over me.
“I don’t believe in mates,” I say.
Chev blinks, cocking his head to the side. The words don’t seem to process in his head, and I can practically see the gears turning as he tries to make sense of my statement.
“I’m aware mates exist, and I’m aware you’re mine, but I don’t want one,” I explain. “I have no interest in males—no interest in you.” Chev winces. I continue. “I don’t want to see you again.”
I wonder if Aziel can smell my fear, and I take a tiny step away just in case. I’m uninterested in provoking him with my negative emotions. I’ve heard rumors that he’s calmed considerably since finding his mates, but you can never be too careful.
Chev clears his throat before shaking his head, denying my words.
Aziel takes this as his cue to leave, the man disappearing into thin air. Chev doesn’t seem to notice he’s gone, but I do. Aziel was the only form of protection I had against Chev.
My hands begin to shake, and I hide them behind my back as I square my shoulders and try to make myself as big as possible. Nymphs aren’t skilled fighters, our talents revolving more around nature and creating life, but I’ll do my best.
Chev can’t teleport, so if he wants to take me out of here, he’ll have to bring me to a portal. There are only two on this level, and guards surround both. I’ll scream for help the moment we’re within hearing distance.
I won’t be taken without a fight.
I barely have time to react to Chev’s widening eyes, his face morphing into that of his animal just as a hand lands on my shoulder and the world around me vanishes. The touch is firm, but it’s quickly pushed to the back of my mind as my knees buckle and another arm wraps around my waist to keep me from tumbling over.
I’m vaguely aware I’m flailing as my stomach flips, and I clutch the arm supporting me. What’s happening? My eyes see nothing, but when the world around me spins and begins to realign, I shut them so I don’t get sick.
I’m being teleported.