Chapter Forty-One
CASSIA
NO? MY BLOOD boils. Rexton can’t tell me what parts of him I can and can’t see. He’s my mate. He doesn’t get to hide from me. He doesn’t get to keep secrets from me. I own him.
Rexton steps closer. “Breathe, Cassia.”
“Stop saying that to me!”
“Then fucking listen.” Rexton smacks his palm against the shower door, clearly frustrated. “Why do you want to see my back? What do you get out of that? Are you trying to prove to yourself that you have the power to make me uncomfortable?”
Despite my anger, my bottom lip wobbles. Is that how little he thinks of me? I hate Rexton.
“I just need to see that it’s healing.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Knowing you’re injured is making me anxious. It has nothing to do with your scars. I don’t…” I groan, gesturing between the two of us. “I don’t know how to do this. I’m not asking because I want to make you uncomfortable.”
Rexton frowns. “Why were you upset at the infirmary? What did I do?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Humor me, Cassia.”
I don’t want to talk about that, and I avoid making eye contact with Rexton as I debate how truthful I want to be. He was using our bond to pry into my emotions, so I can’t lie and tell him I wasn’t upset. He felt it firsthand.
“I—”
“Don’t bother answering if you’re just going to lie.”
I resist the childish urge to stomp my foot. “Because I don’t want you stealing from me.”
“What would I possibly steal from you?”
“Wrath!”
Rexton blinks. “For fuck’s sake, Cassia!” He paces the length of the bathroom. “How many times do we need to have this conversation? I have no interest in taking Wrath from you. I was happy to sit back and let you take the lead at the infirmary, but you told me not to. There’s no winning with you.”
I never said there was.
I let down a small corner of the barrier I built up between our bond, just enough to pry into Rexton. How angry is he?
He turns, pointing a finger in my direction. “Don’t you fucking dare!”
The barrier shoots back up.
We glare at one another, neither of us speaking. I don’t know what to say. Objectively, I understand I’m being irrational, but I can’t help it. This is who I am. This is who I’ve always been. I’m not proud of it, and I don’t know how to stop it.
I ruminate. I worry. I create narratives that don’t exist, then I act on them as if they’re absolute truths.
Rexton looks down, chewing on his bottom lip before groaning and beginning to strip off his shirt.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“You marked me for a reason,” Rexton says. “You care about me, even if you’re too afraid to admit it, and I let you bite me because, for some ungodly fucking reason, I feel the same way about you.”
He refuses to meet my gaze as he removes his clothing and spins around, showing me his back.
“I’m ashamed of the scars,” he starts, “and I worry that you find them unattractive. I don’t want you to think less of me because of them.”
I take a second to collect myself as I’m faced with the mangled state of Rexton’s back, and I force myself to remain calm as I shift my focus to his spear wound. There’s a hole where the spear went in, but to my relief, it seems to be healing. I can no longer see through Rexton’s torso.
“They don’t bother me,” I whisper. “And I don’t think less of you for having them.”
I mean it, too. For as vain as I can be, I don’t mind his scars. Most demons, Wraths specifically, would view them as a sign of weakness, but I don’t. Rexton has already proven his strength to me, and it will take more than a few scars to change my opinion of him.
I clear my throat. “I find every part of you attractive.”
My hands shake as I step out of the shower, closing the distance between us. Rexton continues facing away, and his back muscles stiffen as I approach.
My mark has scarred his throat. I wasn’t gentle when biting him, and his scar reflects that. Most demons revere their mate marks. It’s one of the only scars demons look forward to receiving, but it’s occurring to me that Rexton might not have wanted one. He already has so many.
“Does my mark bother you?” I ask.
Rexton shakes his head. “No.”
“It’s big.”
“I like it, Cassia.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
Good. I bring my mouth to his neck, letting my lips trail over the scar. I think it’s beautiful, and I’m pleased that everybody who meets Rexton will see it and know he’s taken. It leaves no question of his commitment toward me.
“Mine.” I graze my teeth over the mark, an action I hope Rexton perceives as a threat. He belongs to me now. “You’re mine.”
Rexton shivers.
I clear my throat before continuing. “I’m sorry I tried to kill you. I have trouble controlling my anger, but it’s not usually this bad. Things have been…”
I trail off, not sure I want to continue. Rexton was vulnerable with me, and it’s only fair that I be vulnerable with him in return. Doing so is terrifying, though, and it’s not something I’m familiar with. I usually try to avoid it as much as possible.
“Things have been what?” Rexton asks. He spins around, facing me.
I frown. “Things have been complicated since I returned from Greed. I’m not talking much to my parents, and I feel like a failure. I’m nervous that everybody else feels the same way, that they’re judging me for failing to murder Mammon. I’ve been taking my anger out on you, and I’m sorry.”
Rexton purses his lips. What’s he thinking? I shouldn’t have said all that. It was too much.
“I appreciate your apology,” he starts. He pushes my wet hair out of my face. “And I don’t think you’re a failure. Nobody does. If anything, they’re impressed you even tried.”
“People don’t like me.”
“You don’t let people know you.”
I shift my weight from foot to foot. “They wouldn’t like me even if they did.”
Rexton doesn’t immediately respond, and my thoughts almost immediately begin to spiral. Is he judging me for admitting my insecurities? I’m supposed to be a strong, unfazed leader. If people knew how insecure I was, they’d question my leadership skills.
I shouldn’t have said anything.
“I don’t agree,” Rexton finally admits. “You shut everybody out, and people sense that. They avoid you because you’ve made it clear that’s what you want from them.”
I shrug.
Rexton chews on his bottom lip. “I want to know you, Cassia.” He spins me around and nudges me back into the shower. “Are you going to let me know you?”
I shrug again.
He chuckles. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Black.”
He’s careful to avoid getting hit with the shower spray as he pours an ungodly amount of shampoo into his palm, and I obediently tilt my head back as he begins washing my hair. I don’t have much faith that my hair can be saved, but I’m not one to pass up a head massage.
“I like blue,” he continues. “What do you do to unwind?”
Rexton rubs my scalp and matted mess of hair, working the shampoo in the best he can, while I think of a response. Dirt-covered suds trail down my torso and pool at my feet before disappearing down the drain.
“I enjoy eating out and taking long showers,” I say. “Sometimes I start puzzles, but they often frustrate me and I rarely finish.”
Rexton guides my head under the water, then gets to work with conditioner and a wide-toothed comb.
“What about you?” I ask.
“I’m not sure. I’m still adjusting to life in Wrath, and I haven’t found anything I love doing just yet.”
“Have you been having a lot of sex?” The question is out of my mouth before I think better of it. Maybe I don’t want to know.
“I have not.” Rexton snorts. “I haven’t been with anybody since returning to Wrath.”
“And before that?”
A moment of silence, then, “I was expected to consummate my marriage to Princess Amelia, but it was clinical. Prior to her, it’s been years. Sex lost its glamor a long time ago, and it isn’t something I’ve been seeking out.”
I don’t know how to feel about that.
“Do you want to have sex with me?” I just might die if he says no. I like sex, and I don’t enjoy the thought of life without it. It would explain his hesitance to kiss me, though.
Rexton laughs. “I very much want to have sex with you, Cassia. I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you in Greed, and my desire hasn’t diminished even with your several attempts to murder me.”
My lips twitch upward. That’s good to hear.
Rexton conditions my hair until he’s able to work his comb from root to tip. This is a level of pampering I didn’t expect from him, but I could get used to it. Marking him was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but so far, I’m pleased.
My mind wanders to today’s ambush. I’m meeting with Aziel and the generals soon, and I’m terrified. How many Wrath soldiers died under my command? How many children will grow up with one less parent because of me?
I’m guided backward, out of the spray of water.
How many of the soldiers who died today did this with their mates? Grooming is intimate. They’ll never experience it again.
Rexton’s lips find the back of my neck. “Do you need a distraction, Cassia?”
I don’t respond as Rexton wraps his arms around my waist, his palms settling over my stomach.
“Do you think I made the right calls today?” I ask.
Rexton answers immediately. “Yes.”
“People died.”
“People were always going to die,” Rexton argues. “It was inevitable, and we were ambushed. You did the best you could with the preparation and soldiers you had available.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not.”
Rexton slides a hand up my stomach. “Let me take care of you, Cassia.”
Let another take care of me? I don’t know how to do that. I take care of myself.
“Trust me,” Rexton whispers, cupping my breast. He brushes his thumb over my nipple, and I shudder. “You’re wound up, and you should settle before meeting with the generals. Come to them as a composed, controlled leader.”
I can’t. I shouldn’t. I’ll regret it.
But it sounds so nice. I want to forget and let my troubles dissolve, even if only for a few minutes. I’ve heard enough rumors to know that Rexton is familiar with a woman’s body. I won’t have to pretend to enjoy his touch, nor will I have to guide him. He’ll make it easy to relax.
Rexton’s teeth find the side of my neck. “You’re overthinking.”
“Yeah.” I huff. “I do that.”
“Then stop.”
That’s so much easier said than done. If I knew how to shut off my brain and function as a normal Wrath, I would. I’ve never heard of demons having this much trouble managing their emotions, and I blame my mother. It must be my human genes.
“I want to make my mate feel good.” Rexton taps my heels with his foot, nudging my legs apart. “Close your eyes and rest your head against my shoulder.”
I gulp, then do as he says. My eyes slip shut, and I tilt my head back until it finds Rexton’s muscular shoulder. He makes a quiet noise of approval, one I hate to admit has me shuddering. If he feels it, he doesn’t acknowledge it.
Rexton slips a hand between my thighs, his fingertips trailing over my slit.
“Clasp your hands behind my neck.”
Thank the heavens. I never know what to do with my hands. I reach up, freezing halfway.
Rexton stills. “Did you hurt your shoulder?”
“Yes.”
“That’s okay. You can hold my thighs instead.”
I lower my arms, the pain in my shoulder immediately disappearing. Rexton continues running the tip of his finger over my slit as I curl my fingers around his muscular thighs.
His breath hits my neck. My unmarked neck.
“Bite me,” I order.
“There isn’t time. Later.” Rexton eases a finger inside me. “Fuck. You’re going to feel so good wrapped around my cock.”
He adds another finger, then curls them. The pressure feels amazing, and Rexton has the audacity to chuckle as I rock against him.
“I liked feeling your teeth in my neck,” he whispers. “Are you going to bite me again?”
“Yes.”
I’m going to bite Rexton every time he acts up, every time he needs to be reminded that it’s me he’s bonded to. I’ll do it when I’m pleased with him, too, when I want him to know I’m happy we share a connection.
Rexton moans, rocking his fingers into me. “Good. I want everybody to know I’m mated to the future Queen of Wrath.”
The sound of my arousal is obscene. I’m audibly wet. There’s no hiding just how much I’m enjoying Rexton’s touch, and I’d consider being embarrassed if he weren’t panting so heavily onto the back of my neck. He likes this just as much as I do.
His other hand continues playing with my nipples, alternating between them before finally shifting his attention to my clit. I grunt when he finds it, and my hips begin rocking on their own accord.
Every rumor I’ve heard is true. Rexton knows exactly how and where to touch me, and he’s confident. He has my thighs shaking within minutes.
“I want you to cum on my fingers,” Rexton says. “Can you do that, Cassia? Show me how tight this cunt clenches when you orgasm. I’ll think about it later when I’m stroking my cock.”
Fuck. I squeeze my eyes shut, trembling. The shower spray is loud as it hits the tile, and the drying water on my skin is cold. It’s a sharp contrast to Rexton’s warm touch, and it’s beyond overwhelming.
“It’s okay, Cassia. I’m right here. You can let go.”
My orgasm comes quickly, and I arch against Rexton as it hits. He works me through it, continuing to ease his fingers in and out. He pulls away the second I’m finished, moving his hands to my hips before I grow too sensitive.
I release his thighs, then slump against his shoulder.
“You’ve got this,” he whispers. “You know how to lead. It’s your birthright, and you’ve spent your life preparing for it. Don’t let the generals intimidate you."
I nod, still terrified. I do feel better, though. I’m less tense—no longer on the verge of losing my composure. I can do this.