8. Asha
Asha
Time passes, but I don’t know how much. I stand in the middle of the room for a long moment, glaring hard at the fireplace.
Then I pick up the skull from the desk and throw it at the wall.
It doesn’t break. It bounces back at me.
“Fantastic,” I snap, catching it like a grim ball. “Even the decorative bones in this place are more resilient than me.”
I pace once, twice, then kick the leg of the desk hard enough to make my toes throb. Pain shoots through my foot. I hiss and hop backwards, glaring at my trainer like it betrayed me.
This body is a fucking farce.
I drag both hands through my hair and stop dead when I feel the sting behind my eyes again.
No. Absolutely not. I refuse to dissolve because one cold professor laughed at me in front of a room full of idiots.
I have survived wars, betrayals, worship, boredom, gods, and one truly appalling century of diplomacy.
I am not going to sob because some silver-haired academic made a point.
I sit on the edge of the bed before my legs give way and stare at my hands.
Small. Fine-boned. Human-looking.
Mine and not mine.
I call the power up again, trying to get a handle on it. Low-level power is better than no power. Being powerless in a place like this is dangerous. Blue light flickers above my palm, thin and sharp, a nasty little spark trying to impress me.
I stare at it. “You are humiliating.”
It pulses once, as if it disagrees.
I close my fingers around it and feel it bite at my skin before it sinks back under.
The effort leaves my hand trembling from restraint.
My power keeps pressing inside me, wanting out, but it just does nothing except wink at me in a blue glow that I hate.
I hate blue. I want my purple and gold magic back. The colours of royalty and divinity.
A knock sounds at my door.
I go still.
Another knock. Not loud. Not polite either. Certain.
For one stupid second, I consider pretending I’m not here. Then I remember who the fuck I am, or at least who I was, and stalk to the door with murder in my chest and open it hard.
Hale fills the doorway in a black suit and black shirt, broad and irritating and far too good-looking for a creature I’d quite like to disembowel. His green-gold eyes sweep over my face, quick and sharp.
“Well,” he says. “You look violent.”
“I am violent.”
“Good. I was worried you might’ve gone soft.”
“Say one more idiotic thing, and I’ll test whether this body can fit your heart in my fist.”
His mouth curves. “This body…”
“That’s right. This body. My body with my small hands and tiny tits.”
His eyes go wide, and he presses his lips together. “Nothing wrong with tiny tits.”
“Fuck you.” I attempt to slam the door, but he grips the edge of it again. “You’re making a habit of being where I don’t want you.”
“Invite me in.”
“You require consent?”
“Require, no. But it would be useful if Blackridge comes along.”
“You can’t come in.”
“Tough,” he says and shoves the door wider, stepping past me so that I stumble backwards. He kicks the door closed and leans against it.
“Blocking my exit? How gentlemanly of you.”
“Where did you hear that about me?”
“I didn’t,” I say. “I looked at you and guessed. You have the face of a male who’s deeply overrated by females with low standards.”
He laughs under his breath, infuriatingly unbothered. The black suit should make him look civilised. It doesn’t. It makes him look expensive and dangerous, which is somehow worse.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“Who are you?”
“Asha.”
He inhales deeply, and it sends a skitter across my skin. “You are wrong. Or rather, that body is wrong. I can smell it.”
“Eww,” I mutter and step back. “Stop smelling me.”
He smiles slowly. “You don’t want me to smell your arousal?”
My mouth drops open in shock. “What? In your fucking dreams!”
“In my dreams, you’re screaming my name,” he says, his gaze dropping to my mouth before going lower.
“I’d rather throw myself off the tower.”
His grin gets worse. “That’s not a no.”
“It is exactly a no.” Heat climbs up my neck, which is treacherous and unhelpful. “And if you mention my body again, I’ll start removing bits of yours in whatever order feels educational.”
He pushes away from the door and prowls a step closer. I hold my ground because backing up now would be pathetic. Also, because this room is not big enough to give me much dignity if I tried.
“You’re furious,” he says, studying me with that infuriating, intent focus. “Embarrassed. Wound up. And turned on.”
“I am not turned on.”
“You are.”
“You are one more smug word away from finding out whether I can still bite through bone.”
He looks delighted. Absolutely delighted. It does obscene things to my patience.
“Still. That implies that you could.”
That catches me off guard hard enough that I go still.
For a second, neither of us speaks.
Then I narrow my eyes. “We aren’t talking about this.”
“What, that you are not who you say you are?”
“You don’t know anything.”
“I know enough,” Hale says, and for once, the teasing glimmer drops from his gaze.
I swallow, slightly afraid of where it is going. “Do you? Go on then. Enlighten me.”
His eyes stay on mine. “You arrived with weak witchcraft wrapped around something older.”
My pulse gives one ugly kick. I keep my face still by force. “That could mean anything.”
“It means you’re lying.”
“Everyone lies.”
“Not like you.”
I tilt my chin. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”
He takes another step, and I refuse to move.
“I’m a hellhound. You might not have heard of those wherever you fell from, but we are very real, and the scent never lies.
You do, but not the scent. But you also aren’t being very careful.
You talk like you’ve lived too long. You threaten like you’ve done every vile thing you promise.
You look at this place like it’s beneath you, and you look at the gates like they’re locking you in. ”
I give him a slow, bored blink. “Maybe I’m just dramatic.”
“No.”
The single word lands hard. “You really do think you’ve solved me. That’s adorable, puppy.”
His eyes flash. “Call me puppy again.”
“Puppy.”
He moves fast. One second, he’s a step away, the next I’m flat against the wall with his hands beside my head, boxing me in without actually touching me. Heat rolls off him, heavy and deliberate, and my pulse goes from irritated to reckless in an instant.
I lift my chin and smile with all the venom I’ve got. “What now, puppy?”
“Now I decide whether I want to fuck the truth out of you or not.”
A laugh rips out of me before I can stop it. “You are out of your fucking mind.”
“Maybe.” His gaze drags over my face. “You still aren’t denying it.”
“Denying what? That I’m more interesting than the rest of the creatures in this miserable tower?”
“That you’re wearing a lie.” His voice drops. “That your magic is being strangled. That every instinct I’ve got says you are dangerous in a way this realm has not seen in a long time.”
Part of me wonders why I’m not screaming it from the rooftops. The other part knows it would be a mistake that would get me locked up and dissected.
“Why don’t you try it and see if it works?”
He grips my chin. “Is that consent, little liar?”
“Try it and see if I stop you.”
His eyes go darker, and his hands drop to my hips. He grips the fabric of my leggings and rips them clean off my body with an immense strength that makes me go damp for him.
“Fuck,” I breathe out, my hands going to his biceps.
He lifts me, pressing me firmly to the wall as he moves between my legs. I open up and wrap them around him, giving him all the access he needs. I drag him down by the shirt and kiss him before he can turn that smug mouth into another taunt.
It’s been a hot minute since I had a creature strong enough to dominate me. My pussy is definitely interested to see where this goes. My clit twitches and I moan into his mouth.
He makes a rough sound low in his throat and kisses me back like he means to conquer something. His mouth is hot and demanding, and my body answers with a sharp, treacherous rush. I bite his bottom lip hard enough to punish him.
He breathes in deeply again, but this time, it doesn’t bother me. Let him get a lungful of how much he’s turning me on. Who cares at this point? I just want his cock inside me so I can forget about this nightmare for five fucking minutes.
His hand slides up my inner thigh and hooks into my knickers. They are soaked, and he knows it the second he touches them to push them aside.
“Fuck, Asha,” he growls and kisses me again, harder, devouring my mouth with his as he gets his cock free.
I roll my hips and make a filthy sound as he slides the head over my clit.
His green-gold eyes lock onto mine, blown dark with hunger and something far more dangerous. Possession. It flares off him so strongly I can almost see it. We lock gazes as he rams a supersized cock into me and I yelp as the sharp pain bites.
“What?” he growls, going still instantly.
“What?” I ask, swallowing back my shock. I’m a virgin? Oh, this day couldn’t get more humiliating if it tried.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I—I—” What the hell am I supposed to say? I didn’t know? “Just fuck me, you arsehole,” I growl instead.
“Asha.”
“I’ve fucked before; this was an… anomaly.” I grip him tighter in case he decides he’s pulling back.
He doesn’t, but he slams his fist against the wall hard enough to chip the stone. “Dammit, Asha.” He withdraws only a little bit and then thrusts deeper. “I can’t stop. You feel too fucking good.”
“Don’t stop,” I pant. “No one is asking you to.”
He stares at me for one savage second, jaw locked, chest heaving against mine, then drops his forehead to my temple like he’s fighting himself and losing badly. “Fuck,” he says again, rougher this time.
I gasp, and my head hits stone. Every inch of me lights up around him. The pain shifts, opens, turns molten. My body takes him in with greedy little pulses that make my thighs tighten around his waist.
“That’s it,” he says, voice rough and low. “Take my cock like you know what you’re doing.”
“I do know what I’m doing,” I snarl, but it breaks into a moan when he rolls his hips and drags that thick length through me again. “Fuck.”
He watches my face as he starts to move properly. Hard. Deep. Controlled for about three thrusts, then less so.
I dig my nails into his neck and pull him closer. “Faster.”
He laughs once, dark and pleased, then gives me exactly what I want. He drives into me with a brutal rhythm that knocks every coherent thought out of my head. My fingers dig into him because I need something solid while this body learns an entirely new way to come apart.
“Hale,” I gasp.
“That’s right,” he says against my mouth. “Say it.”
He shifts his grip under my thighs, hauling me higher. The angle changes, and a bolt of pleasure tears through me so hard my eyes shut. My body jerks against him. I curse, loud and filthy.
I drag my mouth along his jaw and sink my teeth in hard enough to mark.
He thrusts harder. The room narrows to heat, impact and the savage pleasure of being taken apart by something strong enough to do it.
“Your cock,” I rasp.
“What about it?”
“It’s fucking magnificent,” I moan and thrust onto it as he grips my hips. “More.”
He drives into me, and I come so hard, I think this body is going to break. My scream echoes off the walls.
His mouth crashes to mine, and he fucks me through it, hard and relentless, until the aftershocks turn my legs weak around his waist.
He steps back and carries me to the bed. He sits down and rests his hands lightly on my hips. “Prove it to me,” he murmurs.
“Prove what?” I pant.
“That you’ve done this before.”
“Arrogant fucker,” I growl and slam him back to bed.
He asked for it. He wants a performance from a pro; he’s about to get one.
I rise enough to keep just the tip of his cock inside me before I slam back down. He groans as I do it again. I rotate my hips, and then I swivel on his cock so my back is facing him.
“Fuck,” he says as I reverse cowgirl him, riding him like this is the last fuck I’ll ever have.
I brace one hand on his hip and the other on his chest and take him with a rhythm that is pure spite and greed.
He makes a feral growl that turns into a curse when I clench around him and grind down.
I ride him harder. His fingers bite into my skin. He thrusts up into me, breaking my pace and making me gasp.
He sits up in one brutal movement and drags me back against his chest without pulling out. My breath leaves me. One arm bands around my waist. The other hand slides between my thighs and finds my clit, rubbing it slowly before he pinches it and twists.
“Come all over my cock again, little liar,” he purrs. “It makes me yours.”
“Fuck off,” I gasp as he twists my clit again.
The orgasm rips through me so hard I shake against him, cunt clenching around his cock in desperate spasms that make him curse into my neck.
My head falls back onto his shoulder. I’m breathing like I’ve been dragged through battle.
His fingers keep working my clit through every aftershock, ruthless and precise
I grind back on him. He hisses and tightens his arm around my waist as he thrusts deep and then floods my cunt as he unloads.
For one suspended second, neither of us moves.
My pussy keeps pulsing around him, milking out the last of it while my head empties into a warm, stunned nothing that feels dangerously close to peace. I don’t trust it. I don’t trust any state that makes me this quiet.
Hale’s mouth presses to the side of my neck, his breathing rough against my skin. His arm is still locked around my waist, possessive, and certain.
My senses rush back, and I shove his arm away from me and climb off his lap, snapping my knickers back into place. “Get out.”
“You shutting down now doesn’t change anything,” he says, rising lazily and stashing his monster cock away. “I’m still yours.”
“You don’t even know who I am, so you can’t say that.”
“Soul to soul,” he says. “I don’t need to know anything else.”
“Well, that makes you kind of fucked up.”
“It makes me a hellhound.”
“And that makes you delusional. Go. Now.”
He doesn’t argue again. He leaves me alone to contemplate what the hell just happened and what the fuck I’m meant to do now.