Page 22 of Touched By Death

Ronan speaks up, his eyes finding mine over his shoulder. “Dmitriy has been all over her, and she won’t talk to us.”

As my heart clenches in my chest, I look away and grit my teeth. “He’ll keep her safe.”

A thick and heavy silence descends on the room. So heavy, in fact, it’s suffocating.

Dariana coughs, or maybe she scoffs. “Excuse me? Did I hear you right? Did you say Dmitriy will keep her safe?”

At my shoulder shrug, her jaw drops. She jumps to her feet. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Dari,” Alaric says, a note of warning in his voice.

She shoots him a glare to end all glares, then pins me with her probing gaze. “Dmitriy will keep her safe?”

My jaw pulses. “That’s what I said.”

She blinks at me, then seems to shake her head as if to clear it of thoughts. “What the hell happened to you down there in the cellar? The Daemon I know would never let Dmitriy win.”

“Win? Dari…” I throw my hands out. “Look at me. With a click of his fingers, my father had me thrown into one of his cellars downstairs and tortured by his guards for God knows how fucking long. I can’t keep her safe.”

She stares at me some more, her brown eyes flying over my face, before storming over to the door and yanking it open. Alaric looks over at me as she strides out and slams it shut, but no sooner has she left than she barges right back in and points an accusing finger at me.

“You, Daemon, forget one very important thing. You’re not the only one who’s in love with the angel. We all are. So fuck you if you think I’ll let Dmitriy sink his claws into her just because your father had your fucking balls removed.”

Laughing mockingly, I slide my feet out from beneath the blanket and stand up. Firelight flickers on the wall, and a wicker basket with logs sits propped up against the fireplace—for show, more than anything. Killing the distance between us, I tower over her. Even now, I can’t stop the urge to flex my authority. “You soon changed your tune.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she glares up at me with enough attitude to induce an eye twitch.

“You didn’t want anything to do with her.”

“I didn’t trust her, Daemon.”

Shaking my head, I shoulder past her on my way to the drawers. Candles line the top. Hanging off one in the middle is a pair of lace panties.

Aurelia’s panties.

My heart twinges. I yank the top drawer open and pull out clean clothes. After placing them at the foot of the bed, I make a beeline for the bathroom. Dari dashes in front of me before I can escape inside.

“What if he fucks her?”

Staring off to the side, I grind my teeth so hard, I’m bound to induce a headache.

“She’ll have his scent all over her.”

I count to ten in my head, but she keeps aiming those bullets at my heart like a skilled assassin.

“She’ll come on his cock and moan his name.”

With my hands on her shoulders, I shift her out of the way and barge past her.

“I can’t believe you’re not gonna get her back,” she shouts through the door, slamming her small palm against it.

“You’re no one.”

“You’re weak. You’re so fucking weak!”

My father’s voice taunts me as I turn on the shower and strip out of my ruined, blood-stained clothes. Steam fills the room, fogging my reflection in the mirror in front of me. Dari continues banging on the door and shouting profanities at me. For a girl who couldn’t stand the little angel a few weeks ago, she certainly changed her mind.

Stepping into the shower and bracing my hand on the tiled wall, I hang my head. Water pours from my nose in a steady stream as I scrub at my neck. The thought of Aurelia and Dmitriy won’t leave my fucking mind. By the time I reach for the soap, I’m assaulted by images of him fucking her. Cursing Dari for putting those thoughts in my head, I lather up and scrub my hair vigorously. Nothing short of violence can save me now.

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