Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
Palmer
Ithrashed and kicked, but Rhodes' grip was like a vice. "Put me down, you arrogant prick!" I screamed, pounding my fists against his back. He didn't flinch; he just kept stalking away from the chaos behind us.
Asrael’s dead.
"Rhodes, I swear to every fucking god, if you don't put me down right now, I will make your life a living hell!" I snarled, trying to wriggle free. His arms tightened around me, a silent refusal. I growled in frustration, heat rising in my cheeks as I heard others following us.
"BUN-BUN?!" Talon's voice rang out through the air, and I squirmed harder than ever.
My protests died in my throat as Talon yanked me from Rhodes' grip.
His blood-splattered face filled my vision before his mouth crashed against mine.
The metallic tang of blood mixed with that uniquely Talon taste—like lightning and sin wrapped in pure chaos.
I melted into him like a bar of chocolate left in a hot car, completely aware of the weight of three sets of eyes on us.
"Missed you, Bun-bun," he murmured against my lips before diving in for another kiss that made my toes curl in my boots. His hands gripped my thighs, holding me up as if I weighed nothing. “You sneaky little rabbit! You fuckin’ stabbed Asrael right through the heart!” He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “My cock was hard enough after seeing that I could’ve done a naked pirouette and knocked Asrael’s head off his shoulders. ”
"You're insane," I managed to gasp out, but there wasn't much heat behind the words. My fingers had somehow wound themselves into his red hair without my permission.
"You love it." His blue eyes sparkled with that familiar manic gleam. I did love it. As I looked into his manic, wild eyes, I knew that I loved him too. "I never believed it, you know? Not for a second. You can't be two things at once. You're a bunny, not a fucking rat."
Fuck. Okay, we’re doing this now. I swallowed harshly and shot Rhodes a look from the corner of my eye.
"You saw the evidence," Rhodes interrupted.
"I saw a picture." Talon's eyes snapped to Rhodes'. "It's fuckin easy to look at something and think you know every gods damned thing there is to know, isn't it?"
The tension between the two demons was so thick that the air actually felt heavier, and I cautiously risked a look at Misha.
He was staring so hard at the ground, I was surprised the cobblestones themselves weren’t splitting beneath the intensity of his gaze.
Okay, not going to push that one right now.
Felix shifted next to Misha, and I braved a look, scared to see what I’d find on his face.
Felix's blue eyes met mine, and gods, the hurt there cut deeper than any blade.
They found out I was working for someone else.
The pain radiating from him was a physical thing, wrapping around my throat and squeezing until I could barely breathe.
My fingers tightened in Talon's hair, needing something to ground me.
"Felix," I whispered, but he shook his head, taking a step back. Away from me.
And then Ashland came stomping around the corner, looking more flustered than I’d ever seen him.
But he was a master of being in control of his emotions, and I watched as, with each step he took in my direction, his emotions solidified, or rather, he switched them off.
Ice-blue eyes pierced straight through my soul.
If Felix's pain was a stranglehold, Ashland's gaze was pure frostbite.
Cold. Empty. Demonic. The muscle in his jaw ticked as he stared me down, and I knew that look.
He was hurt—probably more than any of them—but he'd rather die than show it.
"So kind of you to grace us with your presence," Ashland drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm that made me flinch. "Did you have orders to get more information about us?"
"Ash," Talon warned, his grip on my thighs tightening protectively. But I didn't need protection. Not from this. I deserved every bit of their anger.
I wiggled until Talon set me down. "You mean from my boss that I just shoved a sword through?"
"Asrael was your boss?" Ashland’s look of shock was quickly smoothed over and he laughed, sharp enough to draw blood.
Rhodes’ wings expanded, making him appear even larger. More intimidating. “What the fuck?” he hissed.
My chin lifted. Fuck this. “It’s a long story.”
"Bullshit." The word cracked like a whip from Ashland's lips, but his eyes never left mine, even as Talon and Felix glanced to Rhodes.
"It's not—" I started, but Rhodes cut me off.
"Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere more private." His eyes darted meaningfully to the gathering crowd of onlookers. "Unless you'd prefer to air all our dirty laundry here?"
I glanced around, noting the mixture of curiosity and fear on the faces watching us. Right. We'd just helped overthrow Asrael, and here we were having a lover's spat in the middle of the aftermath. Real professional.
The air crackled with demonic energy as Misha's massive form finally moved, breaking free from whatever frozen state he’d been in.
He was absolutely drenched in blood, his long dark hair matted with it, streaks of crimson painting his face like war paint.
His chest heaved with each breath, and when our eyes met, that familiar orange glow ignited in his irises.
Oh fuck.
I knew that look. Had been on the receiving end of it more times than I could count. It was the look of a predator who'd just spotted his favorite meal after working up one hell of an appetite.
"This would be a good time to run," Talon suggested, shrugging. The single word held equal parts warning and excitement.
But I couldn't move. Misha's energy wrapped around me like a physical caress, making my skin tingle and my heart race. The battle high was rolling off him in waves so strong I could practically taste it—metallic and electric, like blood and lightning.
"Misha," I breathed his name, and his nostrils flared. The orange in his eyes spread, consuming the whites until they were purely demonic. A growl rumbled from his chest, so deep I felt it in my bones.
"You left." His voice was gravel and thunder, the accusation heavy in those two words. He took a step forward, and despite myself, I took one back. It didn't escape me that his first words to me were about me leaving, not about me being a spy or betraying them.
"I had to." My voice shook. Damn it. I cleared my throat and tried again, "Rhodes—"
"Shut up." Another step forward. Another step back. My spine hit something solid—Ashland. His hands came to rest on my shoulders, holding me in place. Traitor.
Misha's eyes flicked to Ashland, some silent communication passing between them. Whatever it was, it made Misha's lips curl into a predatory smile that had my knees weakening.
"You're not running this time, little rabbit." He stalked closer, each step deliberate and measured like he was savoring the anticipation of reaching me. "No more games."
"I wasn't playing games," I protested, but even I could hear how breathless I sounded. Gods, he was magnificent like this—covered in the evidence of battle, power radiating from him in waves that made my magic dance under my skin.
He laughed, the sound dark and promising. "No? I guess we have different definitions of the word, then."
Guilt stabbed through me. "Rhodes said—"
"I don't give a fuck what Rhodes said." Misha was right in front of me now, close enough that I had to crane my neck to maintain eye contact. "You should have talked to us, talked to me. You were ours."
The words took the air from my lungs. Were ours. Was it too late? Ashland's fingers tightened on my shoulders.
"Still is," Talon piped up from somewhere to my left. "Aren't you, Bun-bun?"
Before I could answer, Misha's hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my throat. Not squeezing, just... holding. Claiming. His thumb stroked over my pulse point, and I knew he could feel how fast my heart was racing.
"Answer him," Misha commanded, his voice pitched low enough that only those of us in this intimate circle could hear. "Are you still ours, Palmer?"
I swallowed hard against his palm. "I never stopped being yours," I whispered, the truth burning in my chest. "Even when I left. Even when I thought I'd never see you again. From the moment I stepped foot in Haunt, I was always going to be yours."
A sound somewhere between a growl and a purr rumbled from Misha's chest. His fingers flexed against my throat once before sliding up to cup my jaw. "Good girl," he murmured, and then his blood-stained lips crashed down onto mine.
The kiss tasted like victory and violence, and I surrendered to it completely. Because he was right—I was theirs. All of theirs.
Misha broke the kiss when Rhodes' voice cut through our moment. "She's lying. All of you are idiots for trusting her again."
I jerked back, hurt slicing through me at Rhodes' words. "I'm not—"
"Shut the fuck up." Felix's quiet command sliced through the tension. "All of you."
I turned to look at him, shocked by the steel in his voice. His blue eyes were hard, calculating as they swept over our group.
"Follow me," he ordered, already turning away. "Now. I need a fucking shower before anything else gets discussed, or I’m going to lose my shit."
No one moved for a heartbeat, then Ashland pushed me forward. "Walk."
We followed Felix through the castle grounds, past the evidence of the battle we'd just fought. Bodies littered the ground—some dead, some just unconscious from the mind control antidote. The smell of blood and magic hung thick in the air.
I recognized where we were heading before we got there. Misha's old cabin, I recognized it from Jasper’s memories. The place where he'd lived before joining The Exiled, back when he was just the castle's blacksmith.
"Really?" Misha rumbled behind me. "Here?"
"Yes, here," Felix replied, not bothering to look back. "It's private, and we all have history here."