Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Ieye the writhing bodies idly. This is what I have reduced myself to so I can feed and sustain my powers.
It is in no way my finest moment, but I have little choice.
The half-naked dancer rolls her body as she moves closer, trying to entice me, but I dismiss her with a look as I relax back into a booth in the shadowy corner.
She turns her attention to the desperate humans surrounding her with their hands out, filled with cash.
Even during the day, it is busy here. Women in bikinis and underwear dance on stage and people’s laps.
It’s a cesspool of desire and greed, and each breath is filled with lust. It isn’t as potent as feeding directly, but it’s enough to sustain me—hence why I am in a sticky booth when I would rather be anywhere else.
The pounding music irritates me, giving me a headache, something I didn’t know we could get until I moved to the city. My arms are spread across the back of the booth, causing my silk shirt to fall open, and I know the dancers see it. They flock to me all the time, craving what I have.
They don’t want me just because of my beauty, which is undeniable, but because of the power that flows from me without conscious thought.
It’s my cross to bear, being an incubus.
I was born perfect and beautiful, meant for power, feeding, and sex.
Even at a young age, it was all I knew. It is also why I left.
I wanted to be more than a sex symbol, yet here I am, being ogled by men and women alike, all desperate to sate me.
It does not interest me. Not a single stir of desire fizzles in my veins.
It has not for many years now. Some say I grew bored or tired, but the truth is, nothing excites me like it once did.
I could force myself in the past, but even playing that role grew tiresome and challenging. When nothing brings you desire, joy, or fear, it is hard to fake it, or at least it was until I grew to understand the consequences of doing so.
That is why I am here now, all alone in the human world. I thought I would find my place, but maybe that’s not what I’m truly seeking.
When three figures stop beside my table, blocking my view, I cannot look away from the middle creature. I felt power waft through the air, but I mistakenly assumed a supe was here. I was correct, but not in the way I thought.
The woman—no, the magnificent, ethereal creature tilts her chin up as she looks at me, a smile dancing across her lips.
Even disguised in frumpy clothing, she is breathtaking.
Her curves press against the material, moulding as if it’s a second skin.
The very air around me seems to sharpen, as if wanting her attention.
Her eyes run across me, and I find myself sitting up taller under her scrutiny.
Something akin to interest sparks in my chest, where there was once only quietness.
“Hello, incubus.” She looks around. “Interesting choice of entertainment. I suppose I can understand though.”
“How did you find me?” I ask, but my voice sounds odd.
“Your trail was easy to follow.” She grins and slides into the booth, sitting at my side, and I turn my head to keep her in sight.
I glance at the other two before dismissing them.
Her males are dangerous, I can feel their power, but the most dangerous creature is the smiling woman at my side. “A friend sent me your way—Fang.”
“Fang has no friends, not of our kind anyway,” I retort as I run my gaze over her. Why would Fang send her to me? Is she lost like I am? Did Fang think an incubus and a succubus could create a court? The fool.
My biggest concern, however, is my body’s reaction to her proximity. My skin pebbles with goosebumps, and every nerve inside me burns. My heart hastens, and my palms begin to sweat. The strangest thing is that my cock is . . . hard—something that has not happened without help in years.
I narrow my eyes on her, wondering if she’s using her powers on me, but I cannot sense anything. Either she’s good or . . .
It’s not her powers . . . It’s desire.
My eyes widen as I come to that realisation. What was dormant has been awoken, and she seems totally unaware as she leans closer to me, her addictive scent caressing my skin and hardening my cock to the point of pain.
“Why would Fang send you after me?” I ask, trying to ignore what’s happening with my body and focus on why she is here in the first place.
“Because I need help, and she believes you would be willing to offer it,” she explains.
“I am Elara, the rethia from a court not too far from this city. It’s a sanctuary for my people, but recently, we were .
. . attacked. My people are in danger, and it’s my job to save them.
I cannot do it alone.” I can see how much it costs her to admit that.
“I need help. These two men have already agreed to assist me, and now I’m asking if you would also? ”
Leaning back, I act casual despite my pounding heart. “In exchange for what? You must know risking my life for someone else’s cause would need a fair exchange.”
“Lots of money,” she replies. “I have more than you could imagine. You could do anything you wish.”
“I do not need money,” I drawl. “I have plenty. Apologies, Elara, but I cannot help. You may leave.”
I feel her watching me, but I do not look in case I give in. She has the power to make a man like me risk it all to give her what she desires, but I haven’t survived this long by acting foolish.
“Leave you to feeding on humans just to stay alive? Leave you all alone and lost? They call you a wanderer, yes?” My eyes snap back to her as she speaks, her words cutting me to my core.
“You want a home, do you not? A place to belong? If you help us, I will give you that. I will open my court to you.”
“As your servant? No thanks.” I have been there before, a plaything for a powerful being, and I will never go there again.
“Then as an . . . equal,” she grinds out. “If you successfully help me free my people, I will let you be an equal.”
Something dark perks up inside me. I could ask her for anything right now and she would give it to me. It’s in her eyes, a desperation so strong I can taste it. It’s cruel to use that against her, but I never said I was a good man.
When I lean in, and she pulls back, I know the situation is in my favour. It’s addictive to have such a creature under my control, but it will not last, and the sense of power is false. She is a cobra waiting to strike.
“Not just an equal. You said you are a rethia, correct? Fine, I’ll help you, but only if I get to be your king. I will never be controlled by another. If you want my help, then you will share the power you hold.”
“There are no kings in our court,” she snaps. “Only queens.”
“Then we have no deal.” I lean back, dismissing her once more. “Good luck.”
I feel her anger and her glare, but I track the dancers around the room instead. “Fine.” I do not look, even though I want to. “If I let you . . . lead with me, will you help? If I give you that right, will you save my people with us?”
“Yes.” I turn my head to her. “I will help. I will save your people.”
“Fine,” she agrees quickly, as if not wanting to give herself time to second-guess her decision, but then her fingertip presses against the bare skin of my chest, and I swear everything in me tightens at that single, innocent touch.
“But let me make it clear—you will never force me or anyone else into your bed or to feed you. You may lead with me, but decisions will be joint. If you betray me or my people, we will kill you. You will fit into our court, not the other way around. Is that understood? I will be the queen, and you will be the king, but we will not be united in any other way.”
“You seem so sure.” I wrap my hand around her finger and she jerks. “But I sense your desire.” I breathe in as I lean towards her. “For me, for those with you . . . Yet you resist what comes naturally to us.”
She pulls her hand away, and I instantly miss the warmth of her skin. “And I will continue to do so. Those are my terms. Take it or leave it. I’ll rescind the offer in three seconds. Three. Two. On—”
“I’ll take it.” I stand, buttoning my jacket. “Lead the way, Elara.”
We linger in the forest around the city. I lean back against a tree, watching her as she looks at a device in her hand. “The black site is a few hours from here. We should rest before travelling. Tate said he was dangerous, so we need to be prepared.”
“Agreed,” Corbin replies. “I will secure a perimeter here.”
“I will take to the sky to ensure there are no others nearby,” the dragon says, and all eyes turn to me.
I wave my fingers. “I will stay here.”
The shifter growls and turns his head to the one they call Elara. “Be safe.”
“I can handle him, don’t worry,” she assures him.
“Be safe, Elara,” the dragon calls before he transforms and soars into the sky. When the shifter is gone, she heads over to another tree and leans against it, leaving a clearing between us. We stare at each other, and I can’t help but grin. Pushing off the tree trunk, I close the distance.
I do not stop until we almost touch, craving her warmth and scent. Her eyes tighten at my proximity, but she says nothing, while I make note of it. Succubi crave contact and thrive on lust, yet this one seems opposed to it. It makes me curious.
“Who is this creature we are going after that worries you?” I ask, feeling I missed out on vital information. “If I’m going to help you, then I must know.”
“He’s someone Tate recommended. I’m not sure what he’s like, but we need all the help we can get. Not getting cold feet, are you, incubus?” she retorts.
“Bellami,” I correct smoothly, and her lips part. “My name is Bellami. Feel free to scream it later. As for your question, I fear nothing. I made a promise, and I intend to keep it.”
“Good, then we have no issue,” she replies and looks past me, dismissing me. She goes to brush her hair back, her skin glowing in the moonlight, and I can’t resist.
I sense her hunger.
She needs to feed, and I offer myself gladly.
I capture her hand, and she jerks again as I move closer. My lust flows into her, and I see panic in her eyes, so I release her and step back just as quickly. “My apologies, Elara. I only meant to offer myself for you to feed upon. I could sense your hunger.”
“I don’t need to feed,” she snaps, putting her hand behind her back, her lips tight. “Do not touch me without permission.”
Something in the way she says that causes my chest to tighten.
“Of course.” I bow my head. “I am sorry. I mean no insult, but you are correct. I should not have touched you without asking.” Even if she touched me first, it makes no difference.
She is right. She never said I could touch her.
I know how important that is, and shame fills me as I stare at her . . . wondering.
“Why would a succubus refuse to feed?” I murmur out loud.
“Stop,” she demands, her voice tight and . . . afraid.
“Why would you recoil from touch?”
“Please stop.” This time it’s a plea.
The truth is in her eyes, so I nod. “I will never ask you for what you won’t freely give.”
Her scoff is incredulous. “We are made for sex and desire, so why wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, but I can survive without it,” I vow, not liking the fear in her gaze.
“Why?” she presses.
“Why would I want what you do not wish to offer?” I counter truthfully. “The beauty of sex and desire is shared passion and consent. A partner’s bond and the intention of having fun together. I do not wish for force or fear.”
She searches my gaze as if she’s unsure if she can believe me. “You are one of the only ones who feel that way. Men want to own me. Those who captured our court and my people believe we are toys to be used and tamed. They do not care about pleasure or joy.”
“Then they are men we will kill for their crimes,” I promise, the words unintentionally slipping free, but I meant every single one. There is no place in this world for men who are willing to prey on and hurt innocents. A woman is a beautiful creature not meant to be tamed or controlled.
She views me, and something in her eyes makes my heart ache. “And what if I told you those very same men did not care about my consent? What if I told you I was raped by so many of them, I cannot remember the number?”
She no doubt wants a reaction. I’m not sure which kind, but I can only be sincere about my feelings. My heart revolts in pain for her and my hands ball into angry fists, but my words are what she listens to. “Then I would say that must have hurt a lot, and I am very sorry.”
Her eyes widen and her lower lip trembles before she bites it. I hold my hands out to the side, leaving my body free. “If you seek comfort, I am here. I will not touch you, I promise. If not, that is okay as well. Elara, we will make them pay for what they have done.”
She glances around before she pushes away from the tree, taking unsteady steps towards me, then she flings herself at me. I stagger from the force before righting myself. I keep my arms out, not touching her even as she wraps hers around me, hiding her face against my chest.
We find comfort in touch, in warmth, and feeling powers. I know that very well. I offer her that with no strings attached, and she absorbs it. Elara trembles, but she makes no noise. I feel my skin dampen with her tears, but no one else would ever know.
Elara is strong, and my heart aches for her. She endured so much pain for her people, and now she’s risking her life to free them. I would help her no matter the promises or outcome.
I’m not sure how long we stand like this, but I sense the dragon’s return. He lands so silently, however, and does not move or speak. He turns away to give her privacy and patrols the perimeter, protecting her as she grieves for what she lost.
All of us offer her the chance to be vulnerable in a safe space, and when she pulls away, I nod and drop my arms. “Let’s build a fire so we can rest. Like you said, we have a lot to do,” I suggest.
Turning, I go to walk away when a delicate hand touches mine. It sends shockwaves through me despite the fleeting innocent touch. “Thank you, Bellami.”
Hearing my name on her lips makes my chest constrict, and she has no idea I struggle to breathe as she walks past me.
She is oblivious to the fact that she just stole my soul.