Chapter Thirty-Six
CASSIA
REXTON’S FROZEN AGAINST me. He’s not fighting, not moving, not even breathing.
He’s so clearly out of his element, and I’d laugh at him if his teeth weren’t currently holding me captive. He thought he could give me a taste of my own medicine, but we aren’t the same. I’m crazy. I’m self-aware enough to admit that.
Rexton isn’t. He knows the implications of what he’s just done, and he’s panicking.
He still hasn’t removed his teeth from my neck.
I gulp, my lower back aching where it presses against the desk.
Rexton’s entire body is pressed against mine, and my clothes are soaked from his failed drowning attempt.
He couldn’t see it through. My lips curl as I think about that, and I swallow past the lump in my throat before trailing my hand up Rexton’s bare back.
Everywhere I touch is covered in scars. They’re rough against my palm, and the physical proof of his pain rejuvenates my anger. How could they? Most Wraths wouldn’t be pleased to give birth to a shadow, but this treatment is so far beyond what’s tolerated within the kingdom.
Why wasn’t he removed from his home? His doctors should’ve noted the abuse, and somebody should’ve stepped in and separated Rexton from his parents.
Why didn’t that happen? Probably because of their wealth.
His parents weren’t nobility, but they had enough money and influence to make their problems disappear.
Rexton shivers as I touch his back, but he doesn’t ask me to stop.
I don’t volunteer to do so, either.
I take my time feeling every inch of his back, trying to imprint each scar into memory. I still intend to teleport to Rexton’s childhood home once he releases me. I’m happy with this momentary distraction, though.
It’s given me time to think.
I’m going to murder his parents—that isn’t up for debate—but I shouldn’t be too quick with it.
I’m going to scar them the same way they scarred Rexton.
They’re going to experience the pain of every individual lash, and then I’ll burn them alive.
Rexton can watch. Or participate. Whichever he prefers.
His thickest scar stretches from his right shoulder to the left side of his lower back. It’s deep, and the skin feels leathery. How long did this take to heal? As a shadow, Rexton would’ve had slower healing than most demons. It could’ve taken days, if not weeks.
It could have killed him.
“I’m going to kill them,” I whisper. “I promise.”
Rexton’s tongue flattens against my neck, and my eyes flutter shut. What’s he doing? He licks the skin trapped between his teeth, tasting me, before letting out a low groan and pulling away.
He doesn’t go far. His hands remain on my waist, and they tighten as he lifts his head just enough to press his cheek against mine. His stubble is rough, but it isn’t unwelcome.
“Please don’t.” Rexton shifts again, pressing his forehead against mine. It’s an intimate gesture—one I haven’t experienced in years. I like it, and I hold eye contact with his pleading gaze. “I’ve moved past it, Cassia. Let it go.”
“No.”
“Don’t make me beg.”
I snap my jaw shut, hating what he’s asking of me. Let it go? I don’t do that. His parents don’t deserve to live. He has to know that, and I don’t understand why he hasn’t done anything about it.
I’m Aziel’s daughter, and Rexton executed Mammon. Nobody will bat an eye at either of us killing some random Wrath couple—even if they are wealthy, pompous assholes. I won’t let him take the blame, not for this.
“Rexton, I—”
“Please, Cassia.”
I suck in a shaky breath, struggling to hold in my anger, before nodding. I won’t make Rexton beg, even if I disagree with his decision.
He relaxes, probably sensing the tension leaving my body. “Thank you.”
I hum.
Rexton smells good. It’s not something I let myself acknowledge very often, but it’s impossible to ignore when he’s this close. He’s unclothed, too, but I haven’t had the opportunity to look at anything other than his back.
I continue feeling his scars, each lighting a fire inside me. The chance of my giving birth to a shadow is exceptionally low. My bloodline is powerful, and as far as I’m aware, there’s never been a shadow in my family line.
But I’m half-human, and if I had children with Rexton…
I shift, not allowing myself to finish that thought. I’ll love my children. I don’t care what form they emerge in.
Besides, Rexton would never want to have children with me.
He should, and he should feel honored that my mind strayed there for so much as a second, but I know he wouldn’t.
Rexton doesn’t seem to care much for my power.
He’s not as impressed by it as most people are, and I get the impression that he finds it to be a hindrance.
That’s likely because I’ve tried killing him on several occasions.
Rexton remains pressed against me.
“Are you going to kiss me?” I ask.
I want him to. We might as well. We’ve already placed our teeth on one another, which I’ve decided means he’s mine. It’s a unilateral decision, one Rexton might not be pleased about, but he should’ve thought about that before biting me.
Rexton’s still my enemy, but I’ve grown fond of how he speaks to me. Plus, it’s abundantly clear he needs somebody to look after him. If people found out what his parents did and they learned that he’s done nothing about it, they’d take advantage of him. I can’t let that happen. He needs me.
“Well?” I urge. “Are you going to kiss me?”
Rexton shifts, his fingertips digging into my waist. “Do you want me to? You just ordered me to wash my scent off you.”
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
I frown. “Before you placed your teeth on me.”
Rexton turns, letting his lips just barely graze against mine, but it’s not a kiss. Why isn’t he kissing me? I’ve given him permission. Is he playing hard to get?
I move forward to complete the kiss, to fully connect our mouths, but Rexton retreats. He remains close, but he’s now a few inches away.
“Stop playing these games,” I hiss. “You bit me. You teased me. And now you will kiss me.”
Rexton snorts. “You can’t bully me into kissing you, Cassia.”
“Yes, actually, I very well can.”
The corners of his lips twitch upward. “I’m not going to kiss you…” Rexton hurries to smooth his thumbs over my eyebrows. “Calm your eyes, Cassia. We’re in the middle of a war camp, and you just tried to murder my parents. This isn’t the right time.”
I bat his hands away from my face.
Rexton’s budding smile transforms into a full grin, but I know it’s at my expense. I am the butt of no joke, not even for Rexton.
“I would like to see your penis,” I decide. “Show me.”
I push against Rexton’s shoulders, not-so-politely telling him to back up. For once, he listens. He retreats several steps, finally allowing me to see what I’m working with.
I’m pleased.
I’ve always found Rexton attractive. His body is strong, and despite his height, he maintains a sturdy frame. I usually find men of Rexton’s height to be thin and gangly, but Rexton is neither.
“How many women have you bitten?” I ask.
A moment of silence, then a quiet, “Only you.”
Good. Rexton is the only man I’ve ever placed my teeth on, too.
I shift my gaze lower, eager to see the cock I’ve heard so much about.
I’ve done some digging into Rexton, and most of what I’ve learned has been about his sexual past. He made quite an impression in the few years between securing a solid form and leaving for Greed, and I’ve yet to hear a negative review.
Rexton’s waist is narrow, and I chew at my bottom lip as I examine his cock and balls. He keeps his pubic hair trimmed, which meets my preferences. I also like his coloring. His balls are decently sized, too, and they hang at a nice position.
All in all, I’m satisfied.
Rexton shifts uncomfortably. “For fuck’s sake, Cassia.”
I won’t apologize for staring. It’s important to know what I’m signing myself up for.
“When we have time, I want to see you, too,” Rexton decides.
I shrug. “Very well.”
He won’t be disappointed. I take care of myself, and I’m confident in how I look. Rexton will appreciate it. If he doesn’t, I trust he’s intelligent enough to hide his displeasure. I won’t take his rejection kindly.
I gesture to his cock. “You’re not erect.”
“Should I be?” Rexton tilts his head to the side. “I’m not a teenager, and you’re openly examining me like I’m some sort of broodmare.”
“Don’t be dramatic, Rexton. Turn aro—”
I stop, cutting myself off. I’ve ordered every man I’ve ever been with to spin so I can get a complete view, but that might not be the best course of action with Rexton. His scars are a sensitive subject, and I don’t feel right demanding he show them to me.
If he knows what I was about to say, he ignores it.
He backs up a step, continuing to face me as he picks up his clothing and redresses.
He didn’t have the opportunity to wash himself thoroughly.
He was in the tub for less than a minute before trying to drown me, and our fighting would’ve only put my scent back on him.
If anything, he smells more like me now.
I wait until he’s dressed, then make my way outside. I’m not satisfied with this interaction with Rexton, but that’s not a problem to solve right now. People are waiting for me, and Rexton and I will have time later to discuss the details of our relationship.
We’ll have time later for him to kiss me, too. I won’t allow him to put it off for much longer.