Chapter 7 #2
Thorne can claim the title of mastermind and leader however he wants, and I’ll let him, because like my Trouble what people want to see and assume is not my problem.
Inching my fingers up, I trace the edge of her black leggings. Her thighs are glued shut and the whisper of heat from my skin along her abdomen makes her hips twitch. The floral cut of her scent sharpening in the air with what I know is her arousal.
I’d like to find out just how wet she it, but I have a job to complete first.
Squeezing my fingers a bit more, I finally place my hand across her bare stomach. My palm and fingers splayed out over thin straight scars, jagged curved ones, patches of skin marred from burns and frostbite, and bitemarks. Two of them on her stomach I can see through the reflection of the mirror.
There had been pleasure lining her face that she tried to hide before, and now I watch it transform into agony.
Her nails that had already been embedded in my skin dig harder as her muscles tense tighter from the pain, but I don’t move my hand.
Keeping my mouth beside her ear, I let my breath ghost it as I loosen my hand around her throat. “Breathe. Breathe, Trouble. In – “ I inhale and let my chest push against her back. “ – and out.” I exhale and deflate.
Again and again – about four times I do it until like a switch her body immediately sags and I immediately remove my hand from her stomach.
“Fuck.” Ripping her shirt down, I maneuver my arms to pick her up bridal style and make for my room. “You were supposed to breath,” I grumble to her unconscious form. Her face is still twisted in pain, but the rest of her body is lax.
Laying her on my bed, I go to my bathroom and grab a cloth to run under cold water. Her skin had been heating up from the contact so I need something to cool her off.
Ringing out the cloth, I return to my room and fold the thing to set on her forehead. Her face slowly starts relaxing and the cool cloth seems to help. Her lips parting on a sigh and unholy fuck, the things I could do to her.
Varian and Callahan would really kill me if I decided to act on any of them. Not that they’re bonded yet, she was right in that. Fated means nothing unless the tie – or ties – within are cemented and blood is shared. Neither of which has happened. I can feel it along her soul.
Reaching my arms up, I stretch out my shoulders and huff at the situation. There’s nothing I can do until she wakes up, so I leave the room and go back to my office. I have more paperwork I need to finish regarding the rest of the house.
I sometimes wonder why I even decided to become the house president.
There’s a knock on my door as I pass it. I contemplate ignoring it. It’s not Kyno because I would be able to very clearly tell. Apakiko shifters are dominant things – even for the shifters. I wonder if Trouble was able to figure out what he is. The humans on earth call them skinwalkers.
Whoever it is knocks on the door again and I decide to not ignore them this time.
Unlocking the door, I open it to dark eyes glaring. The same dark eyes that glared just like that the last time I called him a good boy for taking my entire cock down his throat.
A smile starts curling on my face. I bet Trouble would glare with just as much malice as she took me nice and deep.
“Where is she?”
His voice a lower tenor as sparks electrify the air around us. I swing the door wider and shove my hands into my pants as I shrug. “No idea who you’re talking about.”
He marches in and in his clenched hand is Trouble’s hat and a device with wire connecting to it. Earbuds, I remember, so you can listen to music from the small device. She has those stuck in her ears nearly every time I see her.
Castiel growls at me. His dark eyes searching the room as his nostrils flare. “I can smell her in here, Darian. You forget the rest of us can scent things better than you can.”
I roll my eyes at him and with a tick of my head the door slams shut. Heading to my desk, I do what I was originally going to be doing.
Fucking paperwork.
“Darian,” he growls as I sit and slump into my chair. “I can smell her fucking – ”
“There was, unfortunately, no fucking,” I interrupt to which he glares at me.
“You know Callahan and Varian will skin you alive if you do anything with her. She’s their fated.
” I scoff and wave him off because that’s the same bullshit excuse everyone keeps using, but he growls, once again, at me.
“She needs control, Darian, before you go messing with her emotions. Varian didn’t even kiss her and she caused an electrical storm and fire not even your father could stop. ”
Ah, yes, I remember that. Thorne told me about the whole ordeal with her and Varian and then what she said about the sun death realm.
I raise a brow at Castiel. He’s been scarce around the school, hiding from everyone to keep from answering all the questions Thorne, Callahan, and Varian want to ask.
But I don’t ask those questions right now.
“What did you want?”
He’s still glaring. “Where is she?”
“Right here,” a decadent voice asserts. Strong and confident and sounding like she did not just pass out from excruciating pain not five minutes ago. “So what do you want?”
I turn my head to see soft rosy eyes fixated on the demigod with her arms crossed and shoulder leaning against the doorframe. Her eyes dip to where her hat and music player are still clutched in Castiel’s hand before arching a brow at him in question.
“Thorne said he saw you entering the house,” he starts. “Why?”
Heat scorches down my spine at his demanding tone. He’s angry for some reason, but I am not sure why. It’s not like they’re fated so he shouldn’t care about Mavyn being in my rooms.
Trouble glances at me and my chest. I wonder how she feels about being with multiple people.
It’s not exactly rare for someone to be fated to multiple people, or for multiple non-fated to be together.
Usually there’s a center the other partners surround – a submissive – and other roles through the group.
Typically there’s a leader – or the alpha – then someone to soothe and be gentle, and someone else to push boundaries and explore rougher sides.
Shifters tend to have those dynamics. An inherent instinct that goes back to their baser urges when they were animals and creatures. Alphas, omegas, and betas within a group.
Four is usually the average, but it’s not unheard of for there to be six or even seven people in a relationship though it’s not as common.
There would be six with all of us.
“I don’t remember calling you daddy,” she snarks.
Hearing her voice roll over that two syllable word makes my dick – which was already hard – painfully harder.
Castiel’s hand fists as he glares at her. “And what would your fated think if they found you in here with your scent all over the angel’s body?”
She doesn’t even twitch and then her eyes flood red and her aura becomes known.
It instantly dominates the select amount Castiel and I let show.
It’s exhilarating as my beast within raises its head at the feeling.
Her blue belladon scent filling the room and I hope it drenches the place.
I want it to smell like her when I walk in here every day.
She quirks a brow. “Now my scent is everywhere – including you. What would my fated think if my scent was all over this body?”
Check-fucking-mate.
She pushes off the doorframe and approaches the demigod with those beautiful glaring red eyes.
Her aura like a drape laying over everything in this room.
He dwarfs her with at least a foot between them.
He’s not as broad as Varian but he’s also a demigod.
A child of a primordial even if he’s only immortal and not an actual god.
Even still, the weight of her power consumes.
I lean forward to focus on the exchange happening. Trouble dips her blooddrop eyes to his shoulder and the air turns electric. Slowly, keeping her glaring expression, Trouble lifts her hands to Castiel’s collared shirt and undoes the first couple buttons before dragging his left side over.
His breath hitches as his glare turns heated and his fisted hands press into his thighs. I’m sure to keep them there instead of roving over her body like he wants to. Like I want to.
She exposes his collarbone and the crook of his neck – right where she had bit him four months ago. Right where her bitemark still mars his flesh.
It has me standing up and leaning on my desk to look closer. Castiel had gloated before about it. Described in full detail how she felt. Her body on his, her fangs in his skin, her venom flowing through his veins as she drank.
Then there had been an altercation with them in Varian’s classroom.
Callahan beat every opponent for a month in training after that altercation.
Neither of them would tell us what happened, but Castiel shut up about the whole thing.
His only comment afterward had been when Thorne asked why her mark wasn’t fading when it had been weeks.
But Castiel said her mark stayed longer because of the poison. He said it started fading after two months. He said it was basically gone right before she woke up.
And yet. . .
Two distinct imprints are scarred over his skin. Two white marks as vivid as if she had just bit him.
Not gone. Not faded.
“So. . .” Her voice shakes slightly as she continues staring at the mark. “What would my fated think,” she repeats and time moves at an odd pace, “if my scent was all over his body?”