2. Gray
Returning my memories.
Getting pussy.
Goals that left no room for a fated mate.
But as I stared into the little werewolf’s multicolored eyes of gold and ice blue, entranced by her scent of sweet raspberries and forest, a shudder traveled through my body, and I knew I was well and truly fucked.
She was mine.
And she was breathtakingly beautiful.
But my fucking fated mate?
The little she-wolf was young and petite, maybe five foot four if she was lucky. She had long black-as-night hair, a pale heart-shaped face, and a lithe, athletically built body. But it was her two different-colored eyes that had entranced me most and the beast I could see lurking within those depths. I wanted to meet this animal and see if I could tame her.
My body had already begun reacting to her. My cock was hardening in my jeans and my eyes tingled as my normally very controlled shift started without my consent. If I didn’t act fast, my body would grow and my horn points would begin to straighten, boldly displaying my interest. That could not happen.
Where everything had told me this was right, I balked hard, not ready to give up my life as I knew it for my God-given fated female. I found it horribly ironic that angels didn’t have mates, but demons somehow did. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Demonhood was technically a punishment and my soul, if it still existed, was tarnished because of it.
I had never desired to find my broken soul’s supposed other half despite the power enhancement and supposed feeling of completeness it brings. I really didn’t believe I had a soul worth sharing—I was more a “find a new pussy every night” kinda guy. Sex was an escape. Sure, it was pleasurable, but it was also the most alive I could possibly feel—nothing else was like it. So why settle for one pussy for eternity when you could have as many as you wanted, with no strings attached? Plus, my gift was spying into minds; it was only too easy to pick out the interested parties.
There was no room in my life for a fated female.
Right now, I couldn’t even remember my demonic title or God-given purpose in this damned world. I’d lost the majority of my memories, and I was largely a convict on the run.
The female in question was too young for me anyway. She didn’t look like she was old enough to have stopped aging, which was mid-twenties for most immortals. She looked too innocent and pure for the likes of me, a fallen angel with a darkness inside. She deserved better than a centuries-old demon with memory loss and a large target painted on his back. She wasn’t right for me, and I had to get away from her as soon as possible—the female I swore I would never touch.
I turned abruptly without a backward glance and left the room, taking measured breaths in an attempt to reverse my shift. I felt her utter dismay deep in my being. A spot on my chest began to ache, and I couldn’t help but scratch at it as I stalked further and further from my mate. The damned pull to her only seemed to intensify with every step I took, and my shift slowed, but frustratingly continued nonetheless.
How did I get into this fucking mess?
For the past few months, I’d been adrift. It was fun at first just seeking the next lay, but the gaping holes in my memories still continued and finally spurred me into seeking another solution. I’d chosen to return to Polaris today to talk with Cassius. From what I’d been able to pick up on from his mind as he’d brought me into Polaris headquarters, was that Jenny was herself again, her memories returned in full since her stint in Shoal, but I hadn’t gotten the chance to ask him how. I also discovered that Polaris had been attacked by demons in search of information about my whereabouts a few days after I dropped them off weeks ago. They had to have contracted an Earth-side witch for assistance. Tracking misting in Shoal was easy for all demons—it’s why I had been avoiding the dimension. However, following misting on Earth via witch magic was expensive and took more valuable time. The demons clearly did not have a demon amongst them with the gift of mist tracking. I still felt guilty for dragging Polaris into this, but it couldn’t be helped since Lethe had chosen to target Cassius and his Vampyr Knight brethren originally.
Lethe had been a demoness leader of one of the seven regions of Shoal and acting regent to all. Lucifer and his minions occupied the true Hell and had the job of torturing damned souls. Shoal was the place God had thrown those angels who fell after Lucifer’s rebellion. Each region was named for one of the seven deadly sins: pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, and sloth. Lethe ruled Envy.
Lethe’s gift was to manipulate minds, and she used it to her advantage selfishly. I was forced to do her bidding because she held the return of my memories against me—plus she had the power over those she controlled to inflict such mental pain that it left one on their knees praying for death. She unfortunately needed my spying ability to double check her victim’s minds to ensure her mind controls were holding. It’s why she kept me close and how she retained power over all the regions.
The Polaris Vampire Clan had emerged from a group of Templar Knights turned vampire—the Vampyr Knights—shortly after the fall of the fighting monks’ order. Lethe had a vendetta against them for thwarting her father’s plans to raise a reanimated mortal army from dead crusaders and take over the world. He led a group called The Fallen until his death at Cassius’s hands. Lethe was resurrecting this group with all the backing of Shoal behind her, but her first goal was getting revenge on Cassius. I’d been forced to track down retired Vampyr Knight after retired Vampyr Knight until I finally located him. She’d promised she would return every memory of mine that she had fucked with after I helped her get revenge on the vampire. Spying into her normally iron-clad mind told me she never planned to return anything.
That’s when I went rogue at the opportune moment.
The Lord wouldn’t stand for her taking over his precious humans anyway. He would send his angelic warriors to annihilate those of us involved in Shoal. I would know, I used to be one.
I misted Cassius into Shoal to get Jenny and then we teamed up and ended the mind-controlling demoness I hated with every bone in my body. She’d taken my life, my freedom, my very dignity. I only wished I could kill her over and over again.
Upon Lethe’s death, Jenny and my memories should have returned, but I underestimated the strength of Lethe’s demonic power. My memories were still missing months later, and I hoped to find out answers, but now I was backtracking, trying to leave as fast as possible.
Suddenly the alarm blared, and the lights overhead went dark—I was immediately on edge.
Adrenaline started pumping through my veins.
The stench of Hellfire just barely met my nose, and I knew exactly who was attacking the Polaris Clan.
Nicodemus.
Lethe’s right-hand man.
A magical barrier existed around the mountain mine when I had arrived. I simply waved at one of the video cameras and Cassius appeared out of the shadows a minute later to let me in. But Nicodemus likely had a demon within his army with the gift to neutralize spells which would allow them to bring the protection down and gain easy access.
For the first time in my life—that I could remember—I felt true fear, but it wasn’t for me. No, I could mist away easily. I feared for the little she-wolf that was mine. My protective instincts flared to life and went into overdrive.
I couldn’t leave her.
What if she got hurt?
It would be my fault since the demons were attacking in search of me.
I struggled with what I should do, and what I wanted to do, until I heard her scream echo from back down the corridor.
That’s when I saw red.
I had to protect her.
My demonic shift ripped through me unchecked as I ran back toward the dining area. I had no control over it—not when she was being threatened. The hallway became increasingly smaller as my muscles filled out and my body grew. My shirt and hoodie ripped from my chest as it expanded, and I threw the remains off behind me. My jeans were made of that stretchy material but barely hung on as my legs took on length and muscle. My tail simply ripped right through the fabric to sway agitatedly behind me. The points of my horns straightened and scraped the ceiling, but I cared not. Teeth sharpening and fangs dropping, I was ready for fucking battle.
Horned demons misted in left and right, wearing full medieval-style battle armor, and all displaying green sashes with the one-horned stag emblem of The Fallen carved into their breastplates. I gripped the hilt of my phantom sword before pulling it out of hiding, making it corporeal and visible to all. My growing demonic power shot through the steel, forming blue flames that licked all around the blade. Swinging the weapon expertly, I sliced my way through the mass of demons that stood in my path. Blood sizzled as it sprayed after coming in contact with the flames on my weapon. I didn’t care who I had to slaughter—I was intent on one thing: getting to her.
I barreled back into the dining area to witness from across the room a soon-to-be-dead demon smack his clawed hand against the side of my female’s head as she backpedaled. He hit her so hard it knocked her unconscious instantly, and she crumpled to the ground.
Anger and fear, as I had never felt before, consumed me. I snarled furiously and advanced. The unholy bloodbath continued as I pulverized all who stood between me and the demon who dared to touch her. I lost count of how many I cut through. Finally reaching him, I slashed out with my sword. I caught the demon’s surprised expression a second before I cut his head from the rest of his body, ending him.
I hastily stowed my sword back in its phantom sheath and knelt to scoop the tiny little werewolf into my arms, cradling her under her shoulders and knees. She seemed even smaller than I thought, but I’d also grown in size since fully shifting. She felt so tiny and fragile in my grasp. Her head fell forward limply against my chest, but her heartbeat was thankfully steady. Her sister and the Polaris vampires had mysteriously vanished, no doubt taking defensive positions, but she had somehow been left vulnerable. A bloody gash now decorated her temple, and I longed to end the demon who dared wound her all over again. I shook myself. That was a dangerous, possessive thought I refused to dwell on.
Just before misting her and me out, I heard Nicodemus yell ominously from across the room, “We will catch you one of these days, Gray!”
The fuck he would.
That demon, with his longhorn bull horns and ridiculous strawberry blond hair, would never catch me while I still lived and breathed. He had led the army for Lethe and fucked her whenever she would let him. I had to guess he had taken over leadership of Shoal or was trying to, and I wagered he either meant to kill me as revenge for killing her or enslave me just as she had done. Enslaving meant little without her means of mind control, though. Nicodemus had the gift of persuasion, which could be just as dangerous, but unless he needed me to check his handiwork, the likelihood of him trying to capture me to keep me alive was slim.
Blackness surrounded me and I breathed a sigh of relief knowing I was safe for now. He could have had my location tracked months ago after attacking Polaris last time, but he didn’t. He could have had a witch scry for me at any point. He hadn’t. It told me that he lacked the funds and was not in total control of Shoal. If he thought I would help him regain stability and control, he had another thing coming. I was just a spy, nothing more.
Emerging from the darkness, I found my living room secure and undisturbed. I had taken the little werewolf to the safest place I could think of: my apartment.
I looked down at her unconscious form in my arms and shook my head in dismay, reality seeping in.
What was I doing?
She was mine, but I had sworn I would never touch my mate. I had tried to leave her, for fuck’s sake! Now I stood clutching her to me like a lifeline as I shifted back, returning to my usual height and form. Only my jeans, minus the tail tear, and the boots—which were a size too large—survived my shift. I didn’t care what the state of my clothing was as long as she was alright—more dangerous thoughts. I swept them aside and focused on her anyway.
As I studied her beautiful but marred face, I took in her sweet raspberry scent. Evergreen also clung to her skin. She was a raspberry patch in the woods, I decided. A fruity forest.
Guilt racked me as I looked her over for other injuries besides her temple.
I never should have taken her.
I feared my body’s powerful reaction to her. Even now, I was hard as a rock and having a difficult time not imagining what her kiss might taste like, or her nipples, which were easily visible under the fabric of the tiny dress she wore.
I really didn’t need this complication in my life right now, but I’d be damned if I couldn’t at least make sure she was unharmed. I felt like I owed her that much. At least that’s what I told myself as I brushed my lips tenderly over her forehead near the healing scrape and padded toward my bedroom.