Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ama
Tears streaked down my face from the overwhelming emotions coursing through me as I fled from that damned ballroom. I didn't give a shit that I likely had black, make-up laden tears pouring down my face like a maniac. All I cared about was getting back to my quarters and being alone.
Shame, guilt, and so much disappointment slammed through me as I navigated the corridors, hoping I had memorized the path correctly.
I was a failure to my father. To our house.
Tonight had been my night to prove that I was mature, had my shit together, and could work the political climate to our advantage. I hadn't just failed; I had embarrassed us. News of this incident would spread through the entire realm.
My face burned as hot tears cascaded down my cheeks, and I choked out a sob, picturing my dad finding out about this. All of the princes of Hell fighting over me at a dignified political gathering, which had been my last chance at gaining votes for our house.
I was a fucking disgrace. How many times had I told myself not to not let these princes and their devilishly handsome looks and sweet words get in the way of my goal here?
"So stupid," I seethed at myself, lifting my long dress to stomp up the stairs towards my quarters.
"Bad night, gorgeous?" a chilling voice asked, drawing my attention to a man at the top of the stairs.
Normally, I'd appreciate the compliment, but the way he’d said it was like oil rolling off his tongue and coating me in a layer of sludge. It felt icky. That was the simplest way to put it.
He was an Incubus. In addition to his alarmingly good looks, the power I felt grazing my own gave it away. Mine had surged up defensively as he prodded me for a way to affect me.
Scrunching my nose up in confusion and slight disgust as he raked his hazel eyes over my body, I mumbled, "Excuse me," as I brushed by him, continuing towards my quarters.
I figured I was in the clear as I rounded the corner and didn't hear any footsteps following me, despite no verbal response having been given. Still feeling on edge, I glanced behind me and tried to shake the feeling of unease when I saw no one there. I’d met a lot of creepy men in my life, but never one that had me feeling like there were bugs crawling under my skin.
Kicking off my heels, I grabbed them in one hand and hurried down the rest of the hallway, making a sharp right towards my door. Relief crashed through me as I opened the large black door and slammed it behind me, locking it and sliding down the wood until my ass hit the floor.
My body was surging with adrenaline from my encounter with the Incubus, and the feeling of being in danger hadn’t completely disappeared. It didn’t help that, now that I was away from my guys—ugh, no, bad Ama, not my guys—I suddenly wasn’t confident that I’d handled this situation correctly.
I shouldn’t be alone. I really shouldn’t be alone. That instinctual alarm was growing.
Something within me was pulsating in my brain, telling me to go find the guys immediately. But I couldn't. I just couldn't. I had already made enough of a mess tonight by not setting boundaries and by thinking I could somehow have multiple budding romances.
My mom would probably be proud. Her daughter, who had shunned all things to do with her Succubus nature, getting involved with six men. A hollow laugh escaped me at the thought as disgust at my behavior slammed through me. What was wrong with me?
I was turning into exactly what I hated. Why did I think it was fair of me to be kissing multiple men, when I knew damn well I'd flip my shit if they kissed other women?
The mere thought had my blood boiling and fists clenching, ready to tear the throat out of anyone who tried to touch my men.
Fuck. I had to stop thinking of them that way.
Pushing myself from the floor, I left my heels at the door and walked barefoot into my bedroom. Glancing at the messy bed, I thought of how Drayven had held me like he couldn't bear to live without me last night.
That damn man had me all kinds of twisted up emotionally and physically. Part of me yearned for the explosion of passion that had only just shown in our kiss. I knew it would be unbelievably intoxicating if I let it go further.
The other half of me wanted to punch him in the throat every time he acted like he could tell me who I could and could not be around. Right after the fucker admitted that the biggest shame of my life, which had permanently impacted how I viewed myself, was a fucking lie.
Rage coursed through me at the memory. I needed a bath to calm down.
Some zen time. That was the clear answer to this.
An uninterrupted bath this time. Away from all of them to clear my head and emotions without them breathing down my neck—or licking it, in Damien's case.
A shiver ran through me at the memory as I reached back to undo the clasp at the top of my dress.
As I struggled with it, I grumbled quietly, "Damnit, this was not a good time to make a stand for my independence. Can't even get myself out of this damn thing."
“Here, let me help you,” a rough voice that I didn’t recognize whispered into my ear.
What the hell?
My blood chilled at the venom in his voice, and as I went to scream for help, a cloth was clamped over my mouth, muffling my attempt.
His other arm clamped around my chest from behind, holding me in a vice-like grip as I struggled to get away. Kicking back with my feet, wishing I still had my heels on now to hurt him, I heard him let out a grunt. He increased the pressure on my mouth as he muttered, "Relax, bitch."
I would not relax, bitch.
Calling my scythe to me, ready to cut this fucker's head from his body, I whimpered as my brain began to feel foggy. My powers felt like they were just out of reach, on the other side of a wall.
Fuck. Think, Ama.
I was getting drowsier by the second, and my limbs began to feel impossibly heavy.
Limbs! Wings!
Focusing hard, I peeled off the glamour I had on my wings and snapped them out, hitting him square in the face. The tips were razor sharp, and I knew they nicked him because his grip on me loosened enough for me to jump away.
His voice was rough as he growled, "If you won't go quietly, then the boss said it was okay to kill you. You just made your own death sentence, little girl."
"Didn't anyone tell you? I'm Death's daughter," I seethed, rage funneling through me, burning out whatever chemical he’d used on me. His large frame was hunched, one hand cupping the wound on his cheek, which was steadily seeping blood that coated his fingers and dripped to the floor.
Disgust flared in his eyes, and I snarled at him. I would not let this motherfucker take me out.
Sucking in deep, steadying breaths, I allowed myself to act on instinct.
I was still blocked from my scythe, and that left me with only one other option.
While I hadn't used that side of me enough to quite understand how it worked, I knew I needed to trust that it was a part of me and would protect me.
I couldn't immediately tell the species of this man, and that made this all the more dangerous.
His eyes were shadowed by the black hair hanging over his eyes, which were typically the easiest way to figure out what house someone belonged to.
I didn't know what to look out for attack wise in order to defend myself properly. I'd need to finish this quickly.
A glimmer of silver flashed in his hand under the bedroom lights seconds before he lunged for me. Dropping into a crouch, I used my wings to launch myself into the air as his hand shot forward, knife ready to make me bleed.
He growled in annoyance as I moved quickly, rolling forward in the air and dropping down behind him. Wrapping my hands around his throat, I let my Succubus powers roll off me in waves—the first time I had ever allowed myself to feel it coursing through me.
It was a heady feeling—or maybe that was the chloroform he’d used.
Just as he prepared to jab at me blindly with the knife, my power engulfed him.
I saw the pink and red twining of my energy seeping into him the second the knife dropped from his fingers, and he went slack in my hands.
I pushed more power into him, needing him to be completely immobile while I grabbed the knife from the ground.
I wasn't quite sure how this worked, but I imbued my energy with the thought that I wanted him to picture what he desired the most for pleasure.
He groaned and moved his hand to what I imagined was his crotch. I gagged at the thought but knew he was in a deep enough lustful trance now. Slowly removing my hands from him, I took a testing step to the side before quickly bending to grab the knife.
The hilt was warm in my hand, and I contemplated what to do with the stranger now. My adrenaline was wearing off, and my body felt like I was possibly going into shock.
An attempted kidnapping, turned failed assassination.
The man was unzipping his black jeans and moved to fondle himself, in utter bliss.
Gross. So freakin’ gross. His eyes were now clear to me.
Purple. Like Finias' eyes, which I loved so much.
This man was a Dark Elf. Looking more closely at his hair, I could now make out that it had been a rushed dye job.
There were patches where the dye hadn't stuck as well to the typical white color of House of Runes.
Knowing that the king and queen of the House of Runes abused Finias, along with the information from Adrien about them killing those who’d stood in their way of the throne, I wasn't even surprised.