I’m Krystian.
And I’m also hers.
I’m made up of darkness and violence and death, but all of those facets of myself belong to her. She wields me. I’m her weapon to do with as she pleases.
“Go to sleep, my love. You’re tired.” I press a kiss to her forehead.
“Will you stay with me?” Her lashes flutter open, vulnerability flashing in those blue depths.
“Until you fall asleep,” I promise.
She seems satisfied by that answer and yawns again, her lids drooping.
“Goodnight, Krystian.” Her voice slurs.
“Goodnight.”
I exitthe bedroom an hour later to three jealous, possessive glares.
Everett balls his hands into fists, the muscles in his jaw working overtime.
“If you took advantage of her, so help me god…” He takes a threatening step forward.
Anger flares deep in my chest. “I would never do such a thing.”
Even with no inhibitions, I would never, ever hurt someone that way, least of all Thea.
“We all heard her cries of pleasure,” Rafe deadpans, his brown eyes hard. “She definitely wanted what he was giving her.”
Zaid scrubs a hand through his dark hair, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like, “Lucky bastard,” under his breath.
I bite down on my smug grin.
But there’s a reason I’m here right now and not snuggled with my shortstack.
I glance at Rafe and quirk an eyebrow. “Fancy going on a trip with me?”
A dark, malevolent grin unfurls on his lips, giving him a devilish appearance. It’s rare the blood fae smiles, but when he does, it’s always when death or torture is involved. The bastard makes me look sane.
“I thought you’d never ask.” Rafe takes a step towards me.
“Wait.” Zaid holds up both hands, his expression pinched. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Not at all,” I respond honestly, my grin widening. “Which makes it the best idea.”
Everett scowls and crosses his arms, but he doesn’t protest. He knows, as well as I do, that it’s our only option.
“Just…be careful, okay?” Zaid chews on his lower lip.
“Never.” I smirk, then allow the smile to fall off my face. “Take care of her.”
“Always,” Zaid vows.
Everett simply mutters, “Yeah, sure, whatever.”
For him, that’s a battle cry. He may not want to admit it to even himself, but the surly bastard will protect our little reaper with his life. Somehow, she has wiggled her way past all of our defenses, burrowing so deep under our skin that we have no hope of removing her.
Rafe nods seriously then unsheathes a blade. He brings it to his palm, creating a deep wound, and blood spills. A portal sputters to life, materializing in the center of the living room.
