Chapter 3 #2
But instead, all I could think of was how warm he was, and carrying me like this was the most natural thing in the world, despite how obviously furious he was.
I hated that. I really, really hated that… or did I?
He pushed through the office doors without breaking his stride.
The moment we crossed the threshold, the noise of the club dulled behind us.
Heavy walls, old magic, and something else entirely seemed to seal the room off from the rest of the building.
But the quieter it got, the louder my thoughts became.
What if he were angry enough to hurt me?
I didn’t think he would.
I really didn’t. But I also hardly knew anything about him. I also hadn’t thought I would ever stand in the middle of a demon club and do something powerful enough to terrify a room full of monsters. So clearly, my judgment wasn’t exactly sparkling tonight.
The door shut behind us with a heavy, final sound that made me flinch. Something he felt, considering my body was currently wrapped over him like an Oblivion-filled taco.
For a moment, the only thing I could hear was the muffled thud of his boots crossing the floor.
That, and the increasingly undignified rush of blood pounding in my ears as I hung there over his shoulder like a particularly annoyed sack of potatoes.
Which was it, Lily-pad? Taco or potatoes?
Damn, was I seriously thinking about food at a time like this? !
Food or not, it was a position I had never imagined finding myself in.
Which was saying something, considering tonight had already included being tricked into trapping a demon, a suspiciously attractive ruler of Hell, and what I was now fairly certain had been some sort of magical explosion caused by… well, little old me.
Which I still didn’t understand. And judging by the iron tension radiating through the man currently carrying me, he didn’t understand either.
Before I could ask him to stop manhandling me, he stopped abruptly.
The sudden stillness made my stomach dip before I even had time to brace for what came next.
Then, without warning, the world tilted again as his arm shifted, and I was lowered back onto my feet.
For a brief second, I swayed, disoriented by the rapid change in perspective.
My heels scraped slightly against the polished floor as I caught my balance.
My hair had partially fallen loose from its carefully curled style during the journey.
I pushed it back automatically, trying to reclaim at least some fragment of dignity before remembering who I was standing in front of.
Mr. Perfection, who was also my captor.
Goddess, he was so handsome I almost forgot to breathe.
And with the way he looked at me now, I was surprised when he stepped back.
Especially when he seemed to be fighting with himself, as if he didn’t know whether to kiss me or spank me.
Either one created a fire in his eyes that spoke only of hunger.
An intensity I wasn’t ready for, which was, no doubt, precisely why he backed off.
Only a step, maybe two, but the space felt intentional. Like he was giving himself distance for reasons that had more to do with my discomfort than that of his own.
His shoulders were still tense beneath the dark lines of that impossibly elegant jacket.
The silver-thread patterns caught faintly in the low light of the office.
For the first time since I had met him, he looked less like a man casually in control of everything around him.
More like someone forcing control over something that had momentarily slipped.
As if for the first time in his life… he was unsure.
I cleared my throat, mostly because the silence had begun to stretch long enough that it felt like it might swallow me whole if I didn’t break it.
“You know,” I said, smoothing down the skirt of the dress he had forced me to wear earlier,
“Most people would probably start with an apology after kidnapping someone twice in one evening.”
His gaze didn’t shift. No, if anything, it sharpened further.
“Kidnapping implies you were taken against your will,” he said calmly, and I blinked at him.
“Pretty sure being thrown over your shoulder counts.”
The corner of his mouth twitched faintly.
But whatever amusement might have been threatening to appear there vanished almost immediately, replaced by something far more serious.
His attention dropped briefly to the floor between us, to the faint dusting of marble powder still clinging to the hem of my dress from the shattered circle.
When his eyes lifted again, the question in them had returned in full force.
“How did you do that?” There it was. Straight to the point. No teasing tone, this time, no velvet warmth beneath the words. Just the same quiet intensity that had filled the throne room when he had realized something had gone very wrong with his spell.
My stomach tightened instantly because I had no answers for him.
“I told you already, I don’t know,” I said, the defensiveness creeping into my voice before I could stop it. Something flickered behind his expression. Not disbelief, but something closer to frustration.
“You spoke a language that predates most human civilizations,” he said evenly.
“You broke a binding circle designed to contain a demon. And you did it without preparation, ritual, or any training.” When he laid it out like that, it sounded even more ridiculous. I folded my arms instinctively.
“Well, when you phrase it like that, it sounds impressive,” I muttered, trying to ease the tension, but his brows drew together slightly.
“Impressive was not the word I would have chosen,” he replied sternly, and I let out a breath that was halfway to a laugh but never quite made it.
“Look,” I said, running a hand briefly over my forehead,
“I don’t know what you want me to say. One minute, you were trying to drag my friend into a glowing marble prison, and the next minute, my mouth decided to start yelling ancient demon words like I’d suddenly downloaded a language pack I didn’t ask for. That’s literally all I’ve got.”
His gaze didn’t leave my face, but it certainly hardened.
“Your friend?” He practically growled the words.
Oh, no. Looked like it was another oh shit moment. Two words that immediately made my stomach drop another inch. So instead of cowering, I straightened slightly.
“Yes. My friend.” The pause that followed was… telling.
“You seem remarkably comfortable forming attachments to demons,” Oblivion said slowly, and it wasn’t a compliment… not even close.
I stared at him a heartbeat longer before telling him,
“Boruta is not exactly the nightmare creature you make him out to be.”
“Boruta,” he repeated, and the way he said the name sounded less like he was acknowledging it and more like he was tasting something unpleasant. Something demonically sour.
“He is a Kobalos demon,” he stated as if this would mean something to me.
“O… kay?” I said slowly, shrugging like it were no big deal. Although when his expression hardened, I knew that he was about to make it one.
“Kobalos are a lesser race of demons, distantly related to Ukobach demons. Both species make up a considerable portion of Hell’s workforce.”
I blinked and then blinked again. Neither one helped.
“Your workforce?” I repeated, as if trying to make sense of why this should mean anything.
“Ukobachs are usually confined to the lower infrastructure of the Underworld,” he continued calmly, as though explaining the most obvious thing in existence.
“Boiler chambers, furnace halls, mechanical labor that maintains the deeper regions of Hell. Kobalos demons operate above ground more frequently, though their function is much the same.” Something about the way he said it made my jaw tighten.
“You’re describing them like office interns,” I accused with a slight shake of my head, telling him I was getting insulted on Bo’s behalf.
“They are not meant for the human realm,” he informed me after his eyes narrowed faintly.
“Neither are you,” I pointed out before I thought twice about it. Although the slight tick in his jaw told me I had gone too far. Especially when he took a step closer and informed me,
“But that is where you are wrong, Miss Shadowmere.”
I gulped at that, recognizing the formality in my last name for what it was… a demonic lord putting me in my mortal place.
A beat of silence followed, and I opened my mouth ready to argue when he took yet another step closer, as clearly, he wasn’t finished.
“I am here because I was elected to be here, to rule over my sector and cast my law and judgment over all supernatural life that lives among you.”
“I…”
He held up his hand to stop and stated,
“I am not finished.”
My mouth wisely snapped shut at that, having no choice but to listen to what sounded very much like a new law being made.
“And everything connected to you is very much my business… including any unsavory friends made that I deem unworthy.”
My pulse skipped and I knew the words should have sounded threatening.
They certainly sounded possessive. But there was something else threaded through them, too.
Something heavier, something that made the air between us feel tighter than it had any right to.
But no matter what it was, this unseen thing building between us, I wouldn’t be who I was if I let him just walk all over me like that.
“You don’t own me!” I snapped, but instead of looking angry or annoyed, he did the opposite of what I expected him to do.
He cut the final space between us and gripped my chin between his thick, long fingers. The pressure left little choice but to look up at him, forcing my gaze to meet his as he said with quiet confidence…
“Don’t I?”