Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
I watch Jullia step through the doors of Stone House with a wave and a promise in her eyes that she’ll be there for me when I come back. She knows absolutely everything now. The first person I’ve told without leaving anything out.
In all nineteen years of my life I’ve never told anyone. I’ve never illuded it to anyone. And not speaking about it, not talking about it, especially when I’m already alone. . . I don’t want to be alone anymore.
My soul weeps and I finally turn towards my red devil. I can feel his pain. His sorrow and guilt and helplessness. Even though it’s not his fault and never has been his fault.
Percius stands off to the side, his hands in the pockets of his pants looking awkward.
“What were you looking for in the library?” I ask him. He couldn’t have been there just to be there.
Varian clears his throat and shakes his head. “Not here, bloodsucker. Come here, I’ll take us back to my room. We can talk there.”
A pressure in my chest starts and when he steps towards me I take a step back.
I don’t want to be alone anymore.
My nose needles like it always does before I cry but I can’t. If I start now I won’t stop and then I’ll want to tell them everything because they’ll tell me I can trust them, but it was never about trust.
I’ve seen Callahan’s soul.
I’ve seen Castiel’s soul.
I have to thank the stars that while Thorne had seen part of my soul he did not see all of it and our fate was not cemented. I still don’t know how it was cemented between Varian and me, but I don’t want to ask that right now. Not with my fated looking like his soul is already ripping apart.
Taking a deep breath, I suppress it all like I do everything else. I don’t know how long I’ll be with the sun devil and these things we need to talk about. . . they can wait. Right now, all I want is for Varian to stop feeling all that for a moment.
Relaxing my shoulders, I contemplate the best way to start this. Best way to say what I actually want.
“Get lost, Percius.”
Images fill my mind with all the things we can do out here. It’s late enough on a week day that no one should be awake and no one will be out. And there’s the woods behind the houses with all that space. The snow will feel good on my scars.
The death devil takes the hint and I let my devil see all those images through my eyes. I let him feel all those emotions through our bond. I speak, for the first time, through our cemented fate that allows us to communicate without being in each other’s minds.
Too old to chase?
His eyebrows shoot up and for a moment that pain disappears. The moment doesn’t last though.
Mavyn, we don’t –
It’s alright, I interrupt. You can also just sit there and let me take care of my devil.
His pupils blow out and lust ravages our bond. It makes heat crest like flaming waves below my stomach.
Three, he growls. Two. . .
I bolt. Making for the trees past the society houses. Throwing off my blazer and tripping over trying to kick off my shoes.
My heart thunders in my ears as I run straight into the woods. Not taking the chance in looking back because if I do I think I’ll scream.
Adrenaline surges like the best kind of high and I release a hold on most of that careful control so I can simply be. So I can simply feel without so much tension constantly coiling around me.
Zig-zagging through the trees, I no longer hear him behind me and the only sound in the woods is my choppy breathing.
My instincts heighten with the chase. He’s a predator through and through, and while I also have claws and teeth, I don’t want to dominate here.
Shadows shift and darkness molds. I can feel my brain is beginning to see things that are not there. The paranoia and adrenaline heightening everything.
A twig snaps to my left, but ahead of me.
No way he got past me. No way he –
A hand lashes out and I barely duck in time. The movement causes me to crash into the trunk of a tree, but I don’t let that stop me from bolting again.
Except, once again, I don’t make it far.
Swirling whorls of shadows sweep the floor of the wood and they come straight for me.
They latch onto my legs first, sending me into the hard-packed snow. Then they slither up my legs and web out like they’re trying to touch every bit of exposed skin.
I try kicking it off but it’s like glue. Soft, velvety, like fingers tracing over your skin, glue that I cannot get rid of.
“Did you think,” Varian’s voice rumbles around me, “that you’d get that far, Bloodsucker?”
It sounds like an echo ricocheting around, but. . . I swivel my head as those shadows reach my upper thighs. Disintegrating the hem of my skirt and stroking my center that has my head throwing back.
I try to move my hands to do something, anything, because pressure is starting to build and I need relief.
Varian tisks, but once again it’s echoed. Except that’s not right. Varian doesn’t control the element of sound. One of thirteen, but he only controls the elements of shadow and death. That, plus runic magic and shadow magic, mind magic, and empathic magic.
I try to concentrate but his shadows make it hard as my clothing disappears and the cold seeps in. Feeling like a balm to my heat as shadows wrap around my wrists and pull them up.
My back hits the snow and the shadows around my legs pull my thighs apart. Exposing me to the darkness where my fated is.
Are.
Because Varian cannot control the element of sound, but Castiel and Darian can.
Are they out there? Watching me?
“So beautiful,” he whispers. This time there is no echo and I can imagine my demigod with his night-dark eyes, golden-brown hair glinting with threads of raw gold. Those golden markings lining his body in symbols and whorls of art.
Phantom fingers swipe up my center before rubbing circles into my clit. The muscles in my thighs tense as my hips jerk and a moan gets stuck in my throat.
A tremor works through my body as Varian’s shadows keep their steady, even pace. Building that pressure and a whimper escapes because I can feel my orgasm right. There.
Other shadows feather-like across the rest of my body, dusting over my neck, my hips, my nipples. No sting or bite of pain that helps with the pleasure. The kind Darian is so good at balancing.
“Please,” I beg, because I do not care. “More,” I whimper.
“Such a little slut for us, isn’t she Varian?”
My core spasms right as both my nipples are pinched. Castiel’s words somehow making me wetter than Varian’s shadows have.
But that’s not – that’s. . . fuck! I can’t think.
I don’t like degradation.
Good girl, Mavyllora. Such a good girl, my sweet.
My heart trips and I shove those whispers away. Shadows tighten around my wrists and I can hear a lowly growl above me.
“Get out of your head, Bloodsucker.”
A demand.
Not a request. Not a question.
No good girl being muttered as I listen.
I like praise. I know that. But I do not like those two words. I do not like being called that. I do not want to be called that. Ever.
“So wet,” Castiel mutters, “but not wet enough. Why don’t you help her with that, Varian?”
And to my surprise, a form comes out of the shadows of darkness. Red eyes encased in gold that I care barely see with how his pupils consume his eyes.
My red devil.
My entire body strains as he slowly lowers himself before me. His knees sinking into the snow as his eyes devour me. His buttoned shirt open and revealing a chest I have yet to see before.
And fucking hell, his body.
“Wider, Varian,” the cocky demigod drawls. His low voice sending a shiver down my spine and making my core clench around nothing. Tension thrumming through my body at the constant pressure and need and consuming heat. “I want to see your mouth edge her. Let the little slut earn her orgasm.”
And my red devil obliges. His shadows pulling my thighs further apart and I arch my back as Varian finally touches me himself.
His large hands scraping against my skin. Starting around my calves, then up to my thighs, then higher.
Shadows are still coiled around my wrists, keeping them firmly in place above my head. Nothing I physically do releases them from their hold, but I’ve come to the realization that I like it better that way.
I like this better this way.
Varian’s hands trace along my inner thighs and under them. Wrapping his arms under as he leans his face closer to me. His breath dusting over my heated core and making me clench again.
Fucking hell!
I trying pulling at the shadow restraints around my wrists. “Please, Varian!” My own voice sounding completely wrong to my own ears, but I can’t stop. I need more. I need him.
I begin shaking my head as he blows over my clit, scattering the shadows and leaving me with no friction.
“I can – can’t take it,” I practically sob. Clenching and unclenching my cunt because it’s all I can do right now. “Please touch me.”
And then his tongue, hot and wet and wicked, swipes up from my ass to my clit.
My hips jerk and I try pushing myself closer to his mouth. To his lips. His tongue. And then he swirls his tongue over my entrance and that heat that had been sizzling so hot spikes as tremors contract below my belly button.
My red devil hums against me and I dig my toes into the snow at the action.
“So fucking good,” he rumbles. His tongue dipping into my center before dragging out and up to my clit. I need him to fucking suck or bite or something. The sounds coming out of my throat are embarrassing enough but I couldn’t care less because of the need.
“Please!” I cry. Whimper and moan and gasp and plead.
Begging. . . because I am not above that and I need to come.
He hums again and my whole body shakes as that spike feels like it’s going to tip over.
“Easy,” I hear Castiel softy chastise and fuck him because Varian backs off. “Let her breathe.”
“I don’t need to fucking breathe,” I choke out. Struggling against the binding around me because I don’t think I can take anymore.