Chapter 52 - Scarlett
Scarlett
Tears dripped down my cheeks, despite how hard I tried to stop them.
I shook, biting my lip so hard, copper exploded across my tongue. “Please,” I begged. “Please.”
Azrael straightened, his fingers stilling inside of me as my hands fought against the leather straps they were tied down with, forcing me to have to spell out certain words that I couldn’t sign otherwise.
His smile was devious, his eyes sparking in delight. “Use your words, little sinner.”
I groaned, my back arching, but my hips firmly in place from the leather strap he used to hold me onto the red velvet cushion. “More. I need more.”
Azrael’s eyes started to close, his smile falling, and I immediately grabbed his chest, searching as another crack rang through.
I scrambled out from under him as gently as I could, finding Mr. Bastrom holding his hand, Poppy kicking the gun away, her angry eyes turning wild as she looked between us.
Havoc appeared a moment later, pushing past Poppy and Mr. Bastrom as I got on my knees, trying to help Azrael, my eyes flicking between his bleeding wrists and the swell of blood spreading across his back, tears streaming down my face.
Havoc hit his knees beside Azrael and pulled something out of his pocket as I continued to do nothing useful, my heart racing, my mind sparking in panic.
No.
No.
No.
Not my hatter.
Not my husband.
Please.
A moment later, the shackles fell free and Havoc stood. “Step back, doll. Now.”
I was sobbing but did as he asked. Was he going to be okay? He had to be okay, it was just a bullet wound. Azrael had survived so much more. It was just a bullet wound.
Mr. Bastrom had hit him just to the right of his spine, the bullet lodging itself far too close to his heart. An inch, Doctor Manson had said.
Havoc had carried Azrael to the car, me on his heels.
Poppy, Olivia, and Lucy stayed behind to handle the people we were taking to Dormouse, and the prisoners.
After the vans picked up those people, another van was delivered to transport the prisoners back to the house.
Meanwhile, Beckett was there to meet us at the house, the two Elders he had captured already locked in the basement.
We immediately got Azrael into surgery, and during that time, Havoc and I headed for the training building.
I jumped out of the car, Havoc on my heels. He shot the glass doors, shattering them completely, setting off an alarm that doused the whole place in red.
I had no idea where I was going in this maze of a building, but Havoc had a thing about blueprints, so he had already studied the ones to this building a long time ago. He knew exactly where to go.
We didn’t run into anyone between the front doors and Malachi’s office, not one person.
I had to laugh at that. Did he really think we wouldn’t fucking come after him? Maybe he just thought we wouldn’t think to come here, but it was the first place I thought to go.
He had so many files, so much information, of course he would be here, packing it up, grabbing as much as he could before he really did disappear forever.
Havoc kicked open the door this time, and what do you know?
The weasel was shoving paperwork into his bag in a panic.
His eyes shot up to Havoc’s and then to mine. No longer was he strong and amused. No, he was terrified. The all-powerful Malachi Adler, terrified of a little girl and her guardian.
Fuck him.
“You never should have come back,” Havoc told him as I slowly made my way towards the desk. “You should have just stayed hidden like the fucking coward you are.”
Malachi kept glancing between the two of us, clearing trying to scramble to remain in control. “You forced my family to betray me. Turned them against me.”
“You did that,” Havoc replied.
“I know you,” he panted as I walked around the desk, my knife gripped in my hand. “Havoc Blackheart, Elise’s boy. You have no ties to my family. Why are you helping them? Do you know how many enemies you’ll make if you capture me?”
“Yes. Let her put the cuffs on you. I would hate to put a hole in you before Azrael gets the chance.”
His eyes widened, his face paling. “Please, please, just kill me.”
Havoc laughed, as did I. “Not a fucking chance.”
We had him in handcuffs in minutes and locked him in the basement with a big red bow, ready for Azrael to do what he needed.
The other churches went down without a hitch. Jeremy had been hit, but only in the arm, and one of Havoc’s people had been shot too. He was still recovering.
But the churches were all shut down, and the prisoners we wanted were all in the basement.
Rae had spent two weeks torturing her father before finally killing him, but before that, she had allowed me and Olivia to both have an hour with him.
Once Azrael recovered enough, we allowed him to kill the wives and the children of the Leaders, wanting him to have a taste of what we had gotten in that church.
I had kept Mr. Kels, Mr. Young, and Mr. Edgars alive for ten excruciating days before killing them and leaving the ‘X’ on their chests, but Mr. Bastrom was still alive down there.
As was Malachi and the two Elders. They would probably remain alive for quite some time, even after we hunted down all the Pillars and retired Leaders that had left the church.
The museum had tragically burned to the ground, some say electrical.
Olivia was definitely showing now, ready to have her baby at any time, and Everett was cooing over her far more than before. Even Lucy had become extra protective.
Everyone had finally gone back to their respective homes, except for Olivia and Everett, but they called to talk every day.
Even the Blackheart brothers were back to focusing on their business, but they had all but moved in, and because of that, we had collectively decided to call the house Wonderland.
After all, news would eventually spread that the Blackheart brothers had an official place to take and torture those they do business with.
‘The House’ didn’t seem as…fun as Wonderland.
The school was doing much better, all the professors now teaching. Olivia was staying here while Everett was running the school, trying to get things on track to be successful next year. The future looked very hopeful for them.
Zo had been transferred here to stay with Malachi in the basement, which she was not happy about. Jack wanted nothing to do with her. He claimed that she was a waste of time.
As for Evie? She finally woke up. She was still processing everything that had happened, explaining that Zo had attacked her in the middle of the night.
Doctor Jacklyn still checked in with her every now and then, but it seemed that she was certainly on the mend.
She loved the house and was thrilled that Olivia was pregnant.
She hadn’t left her side since the moment she got out of that hospital bed, complaining only that she missed the real fight.
She had been down to see Zo several times.
Azrael, despite still healing, didn’t waste any time in trying to erase everything they had done to me, and I was more than willing to accept that.
I had been petrified at first. Terrified that my body would flinch from his, that I wouldn’t be able to handle his touch or anything sexual, but it was quite the opposite.
If anything, I only craved him more. I needed his touch like a fish needed water. Every second, all I could think about was him. It consumed every piece of me, as if my body was begging him to take it all away. And the more he did, the less I had to wear my masks.
However, we did have to make some new accommodations regarding certain things, ones he was more than willing to make.
No more concrete tables.
No more metal shackles.
No more blindfolds.
Everything had to be soft. It could be tight and painful, fine, but it had to be soft, and I had to be able to see everything. I needed to see him so I wouldn’t sink into my memories.
Azrael cocked his head to the side, his eyes shining in pride. “Good girl,” he hummed, causing my entire body to vibrate.
He added another finger and started a slow, agonizing, rhythm, his other hand grazing softly over my stomach, sending shivers across my skin, causing my nipples to harden.
I groaned, trying to shove my hips forward, needing more, but that leather strap kept me in place.
He trailed his knuckles up to my nipples, and gently squeezed one between them, rolling it, sending waves of pleasure straight to my throbbing cunt.
“Fuck,” I tried to sign, a moan falling from my lips.
“Look at you,” he sang, “a writhing, wet mess.” He pulled his fingers out and I collapsed breathlessly onto the cushioned altar. “My beautiful, sinning wife.”
I whimpered, watching him. He had been doing this for two hours, and I was desperate. Keeping me on edge, teasing, taunting. “Please, Azrael.”
“Ah, ah, ahhhh,” he hummed, walking around me.
“Please, daddy,” I begged, giving him my best pouty expression.
He shivered, his hard cock pressing against his thigh, the outline clear even in the dim, flickering light of the candles. “Look at all those beautiful scars, hmm? Perhaps you need another.”
I nodded. “Yes,” I said, tracking his movements carefully. He had given me one since we got back. An ‘A’ right below my breasts, where the upside down cross stopped. I liked it when he burned me, when he cut me. Everything made by his hands erased what they had made with theirs.
He walked over and pulled out a brand from the fire, the end of it white hot, before turning back to me, that smile still lingering, his eyes filled with that familiar look. “I got this one made especially for you. Thank Alaric the next time you see him, hmm?”
I nodded, my mouth filling with drool, my body tensing at the excitement of what was to come.
He walked over to my right side and ran his knuckles down the inside of my right wrist before stopping just above where the leather straps held them down. “Deep breath, my divine little sinning doll.”
I inhaled sharply and watched as he pressed the iron right onto my arm.
I cried out, tears pouring down my cheeks, my body flinching at the sudden pain.
He held it there for a lifetime before pulling it away, the smell of burnt flesh filling the air.
I whimpered and tried to lift my wrist to look at it but could only manage to see it at an angle.
It looked like the Mad Hatter’s hat, a heart right in the center of it.
I fell back onto the cushion, heart racing, head pounding. It was beautiful.
Azrael returned with some ointment and gauze. “Do you like it?” he asked gently.
I nodded tiredly. “Yes,” I answered.
He placed the gauze on it, smiled, and rolled up the sleeve on his right arm, showing me the skin just a little ways up from his wrist where the same mark reflected back.
It was a little healed, telling me he had done it days ago, but it was beautiful.
My eyes flicked over the black ring on his left finger, along with his bracelet, before I found his eyes. “Perfect.”
He smiled, leaned down, and kissed my forehead before straightening, his eyes falling to my left wrist where my bracelet had been reattached permanently.
He had put everything back on me. The bracelet, the ring, and the necklace, and other than the necklace, I was never going to lose them ever again.
“I think you deserve a reward,” he said suddenly.
Without waiting for my reply, he turned back to the table, picked something up, and went right back between my legs. “Deep breath.”
I inhaled and he immediately slid something small straight into my cunt.
I groaned, the pressure itself relieving. But then he hit a button, and the vibrations exploded through me.
I cried out, back arching, his fingers sliding into me, adding to the pressure. It didn’t take long for him to bring me to my end, giving me the best orgasm of my life.
A moment later, he carefully shifted the vibrator up, pulled his fingers out, unzipped his pants, and stepped forward.
My body arched back into the cushion the second his cock touched my entrance.
I saw stars the deeper he pushed it in, his low snarl filling the room at the feeling of that vibrator.
Panting, I wrapped my hands around the leather straps that bound me, my skin pulling as he sank deeper into me, the vibrator forcing his cock to vibrate too, which forced those bars he had to continuously hit my overstimulated clit.
I was sweating, tears pouring into my hairline, my body shaking in agonizing pleasure. No sounds came out of me as he began fucking me hard, the sound of wet slapping filling the room, mixing with the sounds of his untethered moaning.
He grabbed onto my thighs and released whatever was holding him back, shoving me back, forcing the straps to tighten.
I cried out as another orgasm ripped through me, but he kept going. I had never felt so full in my entire life, and seeing the look of pure pleasure on his face did something beautiful to me.
He groaned and cursed, moaning my name, my body tensing for another one at the sounds he was making, and this time, when I came, he came too.