Chapter 25
Ashia
“Damien!” He moves at lightning speed, making it over to Kade before I can even gasp.
Carter and Alex bolt up and dive in to try and pull him off, and while I want to jump in, too…
I’m stuck. Damien isn’t himself right now, and while my head screams to help him, something in my chest warns me to stay back.
The guys try their best to yank Damien away, but it’s like he’s set in stone.
He’s completely unmoving, utilizing his God-like strength to keep his target in his grasp.
I look over to my brother, desperate for him to help, but he just sinks into the chair, lacing his fingers behind his head like this isn’t a huge deal.
I gawk at him in disbelief.
He finally looks up from the floor to meet my panicked eyes, yet he’s as relaxed as ever.
“I say let him die.” He shrugs.
“Zeke! Do something!” I beg, knowing that if Damien were to kill Kade, there would always be another ghost following him.
He rolls his eyes and stands, continuing to act like this is any normal Sunday morning.
I look over at Damien again before snapping back to Zeke, and the adrenaline starting to course through me makes my knees weak.
Like the fear in my eyes kicks him into gear, he runs up behind Damien like a mad man and leaps, wrapping his arms around his torso and neck.
I cover my mouth to keep myself from screaming, but I can’t tell how affective it is past all of the commotion and loud noises.
“Come on, D! We need fucking proof!” my brother yells.
“We have proof…” I barely hear Damien seethe, sounding more like a demon than a man. The temperature in the room plummets, causing bumps to rise over my skin.
Kade’s arms fall limp, and that’s when Zeke acts out of pure desperation.
He rears his head back, only to drive it forward into Damien’s, causing a loud thump to burst through the chaos.
I yelp, unable to help myself as they all fall to the ground.
Kade lands harshly, gasping for breath and clawing at his neck.
He’s looking around the room with blank eyes as he tries to crawl away from my husband, looking at him like a monster…
He doesn’t understand. The pain we’ve been through is insurmountable. He doesn’t know what this means to Damien—the regret and fear beneath this anger, the disappointment in himself…
That thought snaps me back to reality, knowing he’s going to immediately blame himself for this.
I sprint over to them and help Zeke pull himself out from under Damien’s large frame, wanting to get him out of the way before my husband lashes out again.
He’s not unconscious, thankfully, but he’s stunned. He won’t be for much longer, though.
“Damien?” I drop to my knees on the floor beside him and lay my hand on his chest. Fear and adrenaline are pumping through my veins, making my head pound behind my eyes, and I focus on his face to keep the room from spinning.
There doesn’t seem to be any blood. His eyes aren’t rolling back, either.
So, I take that as a good sign. He takes a few deep breaths, and then they pick up again like he’s gearing back up.
Carter and Alex get Kade up on his feet, sending alarms through my limbs. “Get him upstairs!”
They don’t waste a moment to do as I say and pull Kade by his arms, dragging him away before Damien registers what’s happening. Zeke makes it to his hands and knees and looks over at me with sharp, worried eyes.
“You go, too. I’ll be okay.”
“Ash—”
Damien groans and tries to roll over, sending ice down my spine.
I know the second he gets up, he’ll sprint after them, and then we really won’t get answers.
There’s no way he’d allow himself to be stunned once again.
So, I do the only thing I can think of. I swing my leg over his hips, straddling him and planting my hands on his chest to keep him down.
Even in the deepest of rages, Damien would never hurt me, and me pinning him down might be the only thing that can keep him from committing murder.
“Go, Zeke,” I all but beg, knowing he’ll be on Damien’s shitlist for a while, even if he’s put there unintentionally.
He punches the floor before standing and leaving, storming up the stairs with his own rage.
If he wants to beat Kade up a little, fine, he might deserve that, but he better keep him alive.
When they all calm down, they’re going to want more answers, and we need a clear idea of what is really happening.
Damien’s panting draws my attention once again.
His pupils are narrow, almost the size of the tip of a pen, and his body trembles with fury.
It rolls off him like a heat wave, seeping deep into my bones.
Despite my throbbing vision, I lean over and cup his face in my hands, hoping he can see me through his violent haze.
“Take deep breaths, Damien. It’s okay. You’re not there. You’re home with me. Come back to me, baby.”
He’s clawing and yanking at his dark strands like he’s trying anything in his desperation to force the darkness away.
I grip one hand with everything I have and place his palm on my chest, letting him feel my racing heart.
He freezes with one set of fingers still tangled in his hair.
His hand twitches beneath mine, hesitating to pull away, but I keep my grip strong and force him to keep it there.
Something in his eyes shifts—something savage, but complacent. The battling demons on his shoulders are tugging and pulling at every angle, trying to convince him of either homicide or self-preservation. I can’t tell which one is winning by the hunger on his face.
A shaky breath flies from my mouth when he drops his other hand to my bare thigh, sending a soft slap through the now-silent space.
My heart finally starts to slow when a soft breeze of relief rolls over my body.
His thumb brushes my skin, moving back and forth in soft movements to calm himself down, and it’s both soothing and suspicious.
Knowing my husband, he’ll sprint up the stairs the moment I let him up.
So, I do the same with his hair, running my fingers through it in an attempt to soothe him further—just in case the voices crawl back into his mind in the end.
Now there’s nothing but deafening stillness and full breaths. I keep his hand against my chest, and his tremors make my skin tingle. He slowly rakes his eyes down my body and back up, taking in an inch with every breath.
“That’s it, baby. Just keep your eyes on me.
” I can’t help but do the same to him, admiring his strong muscles as they heave up and down.
He’s so angry, and the tautness in his neck is ever prominent.
The sharpness in his face stands out against his icy eyes, especially when he’s this upset.
I’m always so conflicted when he settles into the darkness.
It’s not good for his mind, or anyone that stands close to him, but holy hell is it attractive.
I shouldn’t be thinking about him like this right now.
Even if I am straddling him…and his hands are on me…
and his breaths are so heady that I can feel him rise and fall between my legs.
His grip on my thigh tightens just enough to grab my attention, momentarily pulling me away from his enchantment.
Goosebumps prickle my skin when his palm moves up and down my leg, obviously still searching for comfort.
His rage is still buzzing just under the surface, and even as his hand rubs higher on my leg, he’s barely contained.
Heat blooms in my lower belly and spreads quickly into my chest, despite this being a horrid time to admire the size of his hand.
God, I need to get my shit together. Damien is trying to hold onto his sanity, and my hormones are back to running amuck.
He must pick up on my inner turmoil, because he moves both of his hands at once, snaking the one on my chest up to my throat while the other continues to trail its way higher.
His thumb traces my pulse point, and I know he can feel it starting to pick back up.
I shiver when he presses the pad of his thumb in more to take in the feeling, and the groan he lets out slithers its way into my ear.
The hand on my leg slides up even further, slipping into my sleep shorts and grazing my slit on top of my underwear.
“Damien…” His large fingers wrap around my throat—not enough to cut off any air, but enough for the rest of my words to stop in their tracks. My core clenches, and I suddenly remember exactly how long it's been since my husband has fucked me.
Eighty-six days, to be precise.
His finger curls around the fabric of my underwear and pulls it to the side, making me clench another time as he swipes up my slit again.
Excitement and worry mix together before shooting through my veins.
This is a horrible time to be a hormonal mess, because fuck, do I want him to touch me again…
but he also just tried to kill his friend.
In his mind, Kade betrayed him. Whatever voice he thought he silenced is screaming at him and telling him we're vulnerable. We should be talking this out, and I should be doing anything to calm him down right now. But apparently, I’m a deranged, touch-starved slut, because all of those practical thoughts fly out the window the moment his finger brushes my clit.
“Take off your God damn pants,” Damien growls, sending even more tremors through my body.
“Damien, we shouldn’t—”
His grip on my throat tightens, making his disapproval clear.
The fact that he has enough unfiltered rage to take out a small army, and that our friends and family are right upstairs, doesn’t cross his mind.
He grips the flimsy fabric of my panties and shorts in his monstrous fist and yanks, ripping it with barely any strain.