Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
T he Clubhouse is behind a tow truck garage located on the outskirts of the City of Bones.
A horned skull with the club’s name is painted on the side of the black brick garage in orange, with flames around it. The three-story block building behind it, with two rows of motorcycles parked out front, is our destination.
“When we get inside, there is something I have to do. You won’t like it, but hopefully you’ll enjoy it.”
“That’s not helping.”
“Don’t be nervous.”
“I don’t know what I’m walking into. I don’t even know if I can truly trust you.”
“The sooner you trust me, the better this will be.”
“Trust the man who stole my soul.” I snort.
“I saved you and gave you three more years with your family.”
When he puts it like that, it’s hard to doubt him. He’s been kind since he collected me from his father. I’ve not been given a reason not to trust him thus far. But there is no mistaking that he’s half demon and a son of the devil. His father is literally the ruler of the underworld, who tried to turn me into a tree and burn me for eternity.
“I know asking for your trust is asking for a lot. I’d never hurt you. You’re safe with me.”
I don’t want to believe him and yet part of me does. What other choice do I have? I won’t survive here on my own. If I can call it surviving. I guess this makes me undead.
Lacing his fingers with mine, he tugs me along and through the main entrance of the heavy metal door. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think we were walking into a regular bar. If it weren’t for the monsters sitting at the bar staring in our direction. Alternative music I’ve never heard before plays through the sound system.
I spot Aster immediately and try not to make eye contact. He’s at the end of the bar on his four legs. The head of a man and body of a bull. At least he has arms.
“Prez,” an Orc greets us, holding up a glass of something that looks like mud and worms as we move further inside.
My stomach turns at the thought of consuming bugs.
Don’t worry. Only mortal food and drinks for you, little wolf.
This isn’t so bad.
He squeezes my hand tighter.
The music cuts off and all eyes are on us. I try not to make eye contact with anyone, but it’s hard not to be curious. Some of the men here appear normal––human, but I know better than to trust appearances.
“I’ll make this short and sweet.” Ruthless says. I don’t know if he’s addressing them or me. Maybe both. “I want you to meet Daciana.” He smiles. “My Ol’ Lady.”
“Ready the claiming table,” someone calls out and everyone erupts in a chorus of cheers that thunder and echo throughout the large space.
“What’s the claiming table?”
Ruthless ignores my question, leading me toward the center of the bar as club members scramble to set up a table that has weird symbols carved in the wood while others are patting him on the back. Except for the few women hanging around. They all look at me like they want to rip me apart. Limb by limb. Especially the one with snakes for hair.
Is that Medusa?
No. Her granddaughter. Ignore her. Remember when I said you wouldn’t like what I must do, but you’d enjoy it?
You don’t mean…
I’ve gotta claim and mark you in front of them as my property. It’s for your protection.
By claim and mark, what do you mean?
I’m going to fuck you on this table and brand you with my mark.
No.
It’s for your protection. I’ll shield you as much as I can with my wings.
Your wings!?! You have wings?
So you’re more concerned that I have wings than you are worried that I’m about to claim and brand you?
Do I have a choice?
There’s always a choice, Daciana.
And if I choose not to participate?
What my father showed you is only a taste of what will happen if you don’t fulfill the contract.
Can I see the contract? I mean if I signed it, I should get to read it.
Sure. You just have to go to the archives and put in a request.
Sounds easy enough.
The estimated wait time is three-hundred and ninety-five thousand years.
“What?” I snap and shove against his chest.
“It’s an antiquated system.”
I lick my lips. “I’m going to need a drink or ten.”
“I want you able minded and willing.”
“One drink to calm my nerves.”
And prolong the inevitable .
I didn’t say no.
Take a look around you. They will devour you if I don’t take you in front of them.
Like they’ll eat me?
They’ll play with you. Eat you. Fuck you. Whatever they want because you’re on the lower end of the food chain here.
And what’s in this for you besides the obvious?
My brothers haven’t found their mates. So this tips the scales in my favor. We both get what we want. You get my protection and my mark. I get you and my father won’t see me as some weak halfling. And one day, Daciana, we could rule this place.
City of Bones or do you mean Hell?
Ruthless doesn’t answer. He snaps his fingers and someone hands me a shot glass filled with foamy pink liquid.
“What is it?”
“Something to make you less nervous.”
I can’t believe I’m doing this. I sniff the shot, and it smells fruity. I close my eyes and knock the bitter drink back. “What was that?”
“Passion fruit.”
“How is passion fruit supposed to calm me?”
“You’ll see. Things can be very literal or opposite here.”
“Huh?” His fingers brush my cheek, and my body is all warm and sensitive. Every stroke of his skin on mine sets me on fire in the most appealing way.
“You’re so beautiful, Daciana. I can’t wait to taste you, little wolf.”
His shadow magic, dark and inly wraps around me, setting me on the table. The runes carved into the table catch fire, but I don’t burn.
Ruthless pushes my legs apart as his shadows undress me right here in the middle of a demon filled bar. My mind tells me I should fight this, and yet my body hums with a delicious ache that only he can sedate.
My demon biker.
Mine. The word floats through my mind as he looms over me. His scabbed wings extending from his back to shield my naked body.
I don’t know what’s more terrifying. His horns, his scabbed wings, or my attraction to him. He’s scarily beautiful. An angel of death who is set to devour me. Right now, nothing else matters but the sizzle of his touch as he wraps a hand around my throat with raw brutality. His lips meet mine and the rest of Hell turns to ashes. I part my lips, welcoming his tongue as it invades my mouth.
A golden and black threads weave between us, tying into an infinity knot.
Our soul bond.
Eternity.
You belong to me now, little wolf.
My golden angel fell to Hell.
Fuck. I’m going to own you.
Completely.
You’re mine to have.
To hold.
To mate.
To love.
I don’t know where his pants went, but they’re gone and his hot, veiny, hard flesh meets my center. His lips meet my neck as he thrusts inside me like a savage beast come to rut his mate. Ruthless grazes the sensitive skin with his teeth and bites. What a beautiful burn. He claims me in the middle of a bar, and I don’t care. I want him. Driven by lust or madness, I scrape my nails down his back, urging him to take me harder and deeper.
My nightmare has turned fantasy.
Told you, you’d enjoy it, Daciana.
White hot heat flashes behind my eyes and I wake up gasping in the center of my bed, missing Ruthless and his touch.
I rub my eyes and glance around my bedroom with an ache deep in my chest, feeling like a stranger. Like I don’t belong here.
I want to go back.
Take me back.
Ruthless.
I reach for him with my mind, but there’s nothing. A chill cold as ice ripples down my spine.
Was it all a dream?
It can’t be.
He has to be real.
He has to be.
I lay back down and close my eyes, hoping that if I fall asleep, I’ll be back in his shadowed touch. Tossing and turning sleep doesn’t come.
I walk into the bathroom, noting that I’m dressed in a white bra and black shorts.
A bottle of pills sits on the side of the sink.
Déjà vu washes over me as shadows curl under the bathroom door.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Dark circles ring underneath my eyes.
Panic strikes my chest as my pulse thrums in my ears.
“Ruthless,” I call out his name and pick up the bottle. Dumping the pills out in my hand, I go through the motions. Swallowing them down and chasing them with tap water.
I sink down into the warm water in the bathtub and glance to my right, sensing a presence but unable to see him.
“I belong to you.” I drag a razor across my wrist.
My vision goes black and when I open my eyes, I’m back in his arms.
“What was that?”
“Our soul bond is complete.”
I shudder and a tear rolls down my cheek.
“Never do that to me again.” I touch one of his horns and he shivers in pleasure, then kisses me.
“Let’s finish this in private,” he tells me, touching his forehead to mine and we transport in a flash to a bed where I’m still in his arms and he’s still inside me.
I belong to Ruthless.
He’s mine and I am his.
For eternity.
The end for now.