8. Vaelor
CHAPTER EIGHT
vaelor
My head throbs like a bitch, and with every pulse, the urge to find Selena Thierra and strangle her increases. I want her face to go purple and her eyes to bulge, filling with panic as her oxygen-starved brain slowly accepts her fate—six feet under, and no longer a goddamn problem.
I can take a fair amount of pain, so the fact that this fucking hurts tells me just how badly Felicity was injured, and that’s not going to stand. We made a public claim on her yesterday, and Selena knows that.
“Shit,” Connor curses, letting go of Felicity to grab a rag and press it roughly against my head.
“I got it,” I grunt, shoving him away and holding it there myself. “She needs to be dealt with, though.”
Connor opens and closes his mouth, his expression dazed. He flicks a glance at where Felicity’s still out of it, and then back at me. I twist my expression into a scowl.
“Selena, asshole.” He shakes his head again, and I have to really knuckle the urge down to punch him. “The bitch who fucking attacked our girl.”
“Oh, yeah,” he mumbles. “We can’t kill her, though.”
“Why the fuck not?”
He doesn’t deign to answer, just pinning me with an unimpressed look.
We’re both distracted when Felicity rolls onto her back, her eyes slowly dragging open.
It only takes seconds for panic to set in, and we watch as she scrambles to sit up, edging herself into the corner of the settee, frantically searching the room.
“Where the hell am I?” she demands, hiding her fear behind a wall of bravado. “Are we really resorting to kidnapping now?”
I flick up one brow. “If we wanted to kidnap you, you’d be a little more”—I slide my tongue over my bottom lip suggestively—“tied up.”
Her cheeks darken further, going a bright crimson, and I can’t stop the devilish smirk tugging at my mouth.
“Do you remember what happened?” Connor cuts in, sending me a look that translates to shut the fuck up. My smirk widens into a grin.
When I glance back at Felicity, she looks startled, her eyes wide and fixed on my face. Something other than fear creeps into her eyes, her shoulders shuddering with her next breath, her scent blooming in the air—sweetness and temptation rolled into one.
“Felicity?” Connor asks again, crouching down in front of her, pressing his hands to her knees.
“Uh…” Felicity shakes her head, like she’s trying to clear her mind. “Selena. She yanked me into a room.” She pulls at the collar of her lightweight sweatshirt, tugging it down to bare her shoulders. “She clawed me,” Felicity mutters. “I felt it.”
Connor sends me a questioning glance, and I shrug. I feel the slight pull at my own shoulders, but it’s nothing as bad as the gash at the back of my goddamn head.
“Humans are so fucking weak,” I mutter, but not low enough. She hears me, and her back goes ramrod straight, her expression shutting down.
“I didn’t ask for this,” she hisses out. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I was dealing just fine until the two of you came waltzing in and fucked everything up.”
Her eyes track the movement as I drop the rag, her cheeks losing color when she catches sight of the blood. I let out a low laugh. “How exactly did we do that, Princess?” I gesture between me and Connor. “Last I checked, neither of us were there when you pissed off the she-bitch.”
Felicity bristles at the name, her lip curling as she tells me, “Selena did this because of you.” Her brow furrows, head dipping toward Connor.
“Well, because of him. If you weren’t fucking around on your mate, none of this would’ve happened.
” Horror twists her expression. “She said she could smell me in the hallway yesterday.”
I shoulder Connor out of the way as I step closer, leaning down and putting my face right up against hers, our noses almost brushing.
“You mean when you were dripping with arousal?” I reach out with a pulse of magic, stroking it down her cheek and then to her collarbone, tugging at the sweatshirt.
“Was she smelling you while you were falling apart at the sensation of my power, dragging across your skin?”
Felicity’s chest is heaving, her eyes glazing over before she shakes it off. “Stop it!” Her hands land on my chest, shoving me backward. But her strength is non-existent, the push less effective than a gust of wind.
The ache in my head is biting as I stroke the tendrils of power over her skin teasingly. I rope it back in, hiding my satisfaction when there’s a tiny flicker of disappointment in her eyes. She might be saying no, but her body is saying something else.
There’s the slightest tremble to her mouth when Connor taps her knee, and she drags her attention back to him. “I’ve never fucked around on my mate.”
She flattens her lips together. “It’s none of my business. I don’t know you, and you—neither of you—know me. You just…” She sighs, suddenly looking exhausted. “You need to stop.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Some thanks we get for helping you.”
“Thanks?” she echoes, voice high with incredulity. “You two have taken so much from me, and I don’t even know you! I just want you to leave me alone.”
“That’s not going to happen,” I tell her shortly. “But you’re welcome to leave.”
“Vaelor—” Connor protests.
“No,” I cut him off. “She wants to go, so let her go.”
Felicity seems unsure, but she stands up, forcing Connor to straighten and move back, his fingers twitching at his sides. I’m not sure if he’s thinking of punching me or physically stopping her, but Connor is clearly torn as he shoots a glare at me.
“Thank you,” she says curtly. “I appreciate you helping me.” Felicity touches the back of her head with a frown.
I already know she won’t let herself ask, no matter how curious she might be.
If she does, it would be opening a door between us, and that’s not what she wants. Not when she’s still in denial.
Her hand drops, and she walks around me, keeping a good distance between us, like she thinks I’m about to reach out and grab her. She turns as she goes, keeping us in sight, refusing to put her back to us.
I rub my hand over my jaw, unwillingly impressed with the little mouse. She’s refusing to show even an ounce of fear, even though it’s fairly vibrating under her skin. In the next breath, the door is open, and she’s gone, slipping out without another word.
Connor curses loudly as the door closes behind her, punching his fist into the palm of his other hand, grinding his knuckles down.
“One step forward, five fucking back. How much longer are we playing this goddamn game for?”
My power sizzles low and hot in my chest, thrumming along with my pulse. “A week,” I answer eventually, a thread of anticipation in my voice. “She won’t be able to deny us anymore.”
“One week,” Connor agrees, his expression darkening with desire.
It is time for us to claim our mate, whether she wants it or not.
“Come on. I’ve got a health draught I stole from a warlock I pissed off,” I tell Connor. “Might help with this fucking headache.”
“Why would you steal something from someone you’d pissed off?” he mutters, following me out the door.
I lift a shoulder. “Why wouldn’t I?”