Chapter 20
DIANA
Well, holy shit, no one ever told me places like this existed, either.
It’s like the entire compound is the Black Mirage, but darker.
Or maybe just less insane? Refined and elegant somehow?
The violin that plays is so haunting and beautiful, contrasting with the motorcycle engines that are constantly going off…
“I’m honestly surprised we’re here,” I say, finishing off a fat, juicy steak.
I’ve already taken a large dose of pain meds that they brought me. “Is it safe?”
Judge’s warm laugh loosens all the tension in me as he finishes chewing his own food. “You ran away to the Black Mirage, sweetheart. Ain’t nothing safe out here.”
I smile at him, and it’s kind of odd to have a moment where we’re both looking at each other with warmth.
I awkwardly look back at my food, trying to cut more steak apart.
“My good looks making you speechless?” Judge asks.
I shake my head with a suppressed laugh, and then I can’t hold back the real laughter. “You’re an ass.”
“Oh, there’s no denying that.”
I can’t wipe this damn grin off my face. I can’t believe a part of my life’s story is falling for Judge of Dominion, at a bar in the wastes, run by the Witch Doctor’s cousin.
We’re finally taken to door of our room, guarded by beta bikers. And even though they’re not alphas, there’s a sense of, well, lack of clear tension here. It feels more like a collective pack than a gang.
“So, Grimm and the witch are definitely magic,” I comment while Judge unlocks the door.
“I’m not going to argue with you. Technically, I’m not really all that human, either,” he says, opening the door, staring me down as I walk in first.
“And I’m just plain old Diana.”
“You’re far from plain, darling.”
My lips tremble a bit as I try, oh so very hard, to prevent a massive smile, only to sigh with relief when I see a massive bed dominating the space, piled high with furs and quilts that look softer than anything I've touched in years. The headboard is wrought iron, twisted into shapes that might be vines or bones. There’s a ton of white, skinny candles all over—the nightstands, the windowsill, a shelf mounted near the door—casting the whole space in warm, dancing shadows. The windows are covered but not sealed.
There's a stone fireplace already crackling with low flames. A small kitchen area. A bedroom visible through an open doorway, and beside it…
"Is that a bathroom?" I ask, hardly daring to hope. I'm already moving toward it, drawn by the promise of cleanliness. There’s so much sand in my clothes, and I swear it’s all settling in my groin.
Judge sets down the leather bag he's been carrying, the one that’s been strapped to Widow since we left the Mirage.
“This isn’t actually Grimm’s main hiding hole.
He grows these weird ass totem poles like a tree, and uproots them and plants them in new territories…
and this is a coastal one for the Reapers.
They usually always have amenities for anyone traveling of importance.
Politics, all that shit.” Judge nears the bathroom, filling the space with his enormous size, turning on the tub, and running his hand under it to feel it.
“At least they got warm water.” He leans out to dig into the bag as I realize I might actually get a bath.
“I have three vials from the Witch Doctor to use in the water. She recommended soaking in a bath once a day for your back. I’d like it to heal more before a long trip back. ”
He places the vials on a small end table inside the room, each one filled to the brim with a burgundy color, then slowly looks me over, and I savor the way there’s something soft in his gaze. “Enjoy your bath, nurse.”
Exhaustion is hitting me in waves now, and the thought of hot water and healing is too tempting to resist. "Thank you.”
The intense aggression of Judge genuinely seems dampened, which I can’t tell if it’s from whatever Grimm’s aura does, or if Judge actually feels a sense of security in us. I start to strip as he heads out, taking the break for what it is.
The bathroom is small but functional, dominated by a claw-footed tub that looks like it was salvaged from somewhere fancy and dragged here through sheer force of will with how heavy it had to be.
I uncork the vial and pour the Witch Doctor's essence into the water.
The effect is immediate, the liquid dispersing in ribbons of red and silver, the air taking on a faintly sweet scent, almost medicinal.
I strip off the rest of my road-worn clothes carefully, peeling the bandages from my back and wincing at the pull against healing skin.
In the small mirror above the sink, I hold my breath as I catch a glimpse of the damage—red lines raking across my shoulder blades, the skin an utter fucking wreck.
“Goddamn,” I mutter to myself. All I can think about is how lucky I am. That looks like just the tip got me. Anything further, and I’d have lung punctures or muscles completely torn.
The sensation of Judge in my chest, where we are linked, covers some of that wreckage.
I should look at his hands later, if he’ll let me.
My alpha tracked me down and ripped his hands apart to save me, and then took me to a beach, knotted me, and then took me naked into the water and pressed me against his body, finger fucking me until I came.
To be completely honest, after this, I’m looking forward to falling asleep to my alpha’s musk and purrs. I can accept the idea of him in the context of it being for me.
The heat of the bath is everything I need, the Witch Doctor's essence working immediately, so I’m actually able to rest against the tub. I lean my head against the edge and close my eyes.
I must actually fall asleep at some point, because next time I’m awake, I swear I feel him first. In the liminal space where I forget my reality, Judge permeates like there’s not an ounce of friction. I lull my head back when I feel someone move my hair, and I hear a chair placed behind me.
The way it takes my eyes a while to focus tells me this bath is far more effective than I anticipated.
Through the haze of being medicated, I stare ahead to see the upside down angle of Judge’s face.
He’s clearly sitting right behind me. “Are you alright?” he asks.
“You’re sleeping hard. We should get you out. ”
There he goes, making me feel things for him.
"What are you doing?" I ask, just staring at him. “I thought you were busy.”
“You’ve been in here for two hours.”
My eyes widen, reassessing the water that’s still completely warm. “It just feels so good.”
Judge purrs, lightly touching my hair that’s now dangling outside the tub. It’s so interesting that we sit here, not fucking. Like he actually has a piece of mind to understand how I might need this first. How he has respected that boundary so incredibly well since he came for me.
“You feel content,” he says, swiping again, those pale eyes flashing at me in the dirty reflection.
“You’re going to make me say nice things, aren’t you?” I ask, closing my eyes, not ready to feel the pain in my back once I get out.
“You made me chase you across the wastes.” He lowers down so he’s closer. “You owe me.”
A smile effortlessly spreads on my face as I think about it.
Really think, past the knee-jerk response, past what I should feel versus what I actually feel.
Knowing that someone like Judge has gone above and beyond, despite his terrible initial approach, really does something to me.
“Fine,” I admit quietly. "I'm happy my alpha came for me.”
I throw that inflection in for good measure, knowing he’ll love it, which is only confirmed as satisfaction pulses through the bond.
“Keep the stubble,” I add, looking over his face.
He raises a brow at me. “Oh, really?”
“I like it.” I close my eyes again.
“If that’s what my omega wants. Less frequent shaving for me.
You should get out soon, though, and get real sleep.
” I hear him stand and feel him pull away, and I peek through my lids to see his frame—the way his traps bulge out, then his shoulders, then the meat of his back as he removes his shirt as if he’s getting ready for sleeping.
The way his hands hang at his side, all veined.
His entire body flexes as he raises his arm to scratch his back.
We’re both winding down, exhausted. My mind is numb as I just enjoy the moment, and I actually lean into it. I don’t want to think about Selene, my family, the warrog, or anything else. I want to enjoy the fact that I feel safer by the hour.
Which also means getting out to get real rest, the bath making dramatic sounds of water moving, and I dry off.
Judge washes over himself with a basin as I try to battle through a wave of grogginess, wondering what the hell she put in that.
It feels like I’ve been given a benzo. Judge helps me with re-bandaging my back.
It’s almost a haze as I near the bed, collapsing onto it, completely naked, and he moves to the fire to add more wood.
“I don’t have any clothes,” I state, not spotting any as my skin rises in gooseflesh.
“You won’t need any until tomorrow,” Judge casually remarks, looking at me with something that I can only describe as him.
My skin prickles at the insinuation, and even though I’m utterly worn down, I don’t fear or worry about any of this.
I know he will take care of me.
A growl rumbles from his chest, low, possessive, pleased, and the sound travels straight through me, settling between my thighs like a promise. He rises from the chair in one fluid motion, crossing to me with that predatory grace that should terrify me but instead makes my breath catch.
"Say that out loud,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into something darker.
"Say what?"
"That you know I'll take care of you." He leans over to place rough hands on my hips, sliding me down the bed so my legs spread around him, exposing me. I can feel the heat of his skin through the thin barrier of his pants, the only thing remaining on him.
I tilt my chin up, meeting those pale eyes that seem to glow in the firelight. “You felt that?”
He’s so damn imposing from this angle, especially with the dim lighting. “Admit what you felt.”
I grin. “You’re so bossy.”
The growl that tears from him this time is feral, hungry, triumphant, and wanting. "You have no idea," he rasps, “what sensing that did to me.”
My heart races with something deep, and I’m now mouth breathing with how he makes me feel. “You’re all talk,” I quip, loving to poke at him.
His laugh is a dark, breathless thing. “You’re already dripping with slick, my sweet mate.”
My body responds to his proximity, as if it were designed for exactly this. “Yeah, because you growled twice at me. Now I want your knot." I eye his pants where a massive ridge is. “And you're going to have to do all the work because I’m beat.”
Something dangerous flashes in his eyes. "Is that an order, little omega?"
“Sure is.” I roll my hips, giving all this foreplay a chance with him. “From your mate. Who is very tired. And very wet. And would very much like to fall asleep stuffed full of you."
He rips out his belt in a way that’s scary and exhilarating.
I don't even see how he manages it, and then he's settling between my thighs, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my cunt, sliding against my clit.
He pauses there, holding himself still with visible effort.
"Did anyone approach you while we were separated?
" The question comes out rough, edged with aggression that I can tell he's been controlling this whole time. “I haven’t asked yet, but I want to know.”
Well, that makes me way hotter than it should. “No."
"Good." He pushes in slowly, inch by devastating inch, and the stretch of him makes my eyes roll back. “That was too close of a call, Diana. Don’t ever risk your life like that again.”
"You said you'd let me go," I manage, my voice breaking as he fills me, sliding a hand around my leg to hold me against him as his balls graze against me.
"I warned you I wouldn't be far." He pulls back, watching greedily as his entire cock disappears back into me once more. "I crave the affection of the person the universe chose for me." Another thrust, harder this time. "It's safe to give me your affection, Diana."
"Then earn it…” I say, unsure as to where this part of me has come from. “Make me come. Fill me with your knot. And purr me to sleep."
The other hand gets to work on my clit as I close my eyes, always amazed by how easy my body is for this man and his scent.
He sets a rhythm that's relentless but not punishing, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside me while his fingers work in perfect circles.
I'm climbing faster than I thought possible, my entire world narrowing to the places where his body meets mine.
"That's it," he murmurs, his voice like gravel and honey. "Let me feel you. Let me feel how much pleasure my cock brings you.”
I cry out, my whole body clenching around him as the orgasm tears through me. He groans like he's been wounded, his hips stuttering, and I feel the swell of his knot catching at my entrance as he comes right alongside me.
"Diana—" My name is a warning and a plea all at once.
He buries himself to the hilt, his knot locking us together, and milks the rest of his orgasm with a snarl that rumbles through both of us. There’s a hot pulse of his cum, the stretch of his knot making me feel impossibly full, impossibly his.
The purring starts immediately as he shifts the two of us so we’re lying on the bed, covering our bodies in blankets as we lie against a myriad of pillows in this faux nest. A deep, constant vibration is next to my cheeks as I sink into my bones.
He shifts us carefully once more, still locked together, until I'm curled against his chest, his arms wrapped around me like I'm something he really was afraid he lost.
"Sleep, love,” he murmurs against my hair, one hand stroking lazy patterns down my spine. “You’re safe, now.”
I fall asleep feeling completely, utterly safe.