Page 92 of Touched By Death

“Try it,” he snarls before his lips peel back to showcase his sharp, gleaming fangs. “I’ll slaughter you.”

Releasing him, I pat his cheek once. “This is why I always told you to stay detached. Women mess with your head if you let them. This particular female has become your weakness. Not even a fucking week with my best torturer could make you see sense. Nothing short of killing her will solve the problem.”

As predicted, he flies at me, ready to fight me to the death to protect his fire-bonded. Erecting a wall of flames between us, I force him back, smiling at him from across the fire. “Don’t tempt me, son. You know I wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.”

Gnashing his teeth, he tests the flames but jumps back with a hiss.

“Now that you’ve chewed me out for coming on your girl,” I say, rolling up my sleeves. “Why are you really here?”

Shoulders tense, he tosses a livid look in my direction. “We found a room in the passageways.”

“A room? There are plenty of those.”

“Her stalker has used it.”

I freeze, looking over at him. “Excuse me?”

Testing the flames again, he curses under his breath when he burns his arm. “Her stalker set up camp in one of the rooms. I’m talking crazy shit. Countless photographs of her chained up and a notebook with some twisted, scrawled notes. It’s how he got in. Hidden in plain sight in the secret passageways.”

Head cocked, a mixture of emotions bubble to the surface as I mull over his words. “You’re telling me Aurelia’s stalker stayed in my own damn house, under my nose, and I didn’t know about it?” Strangely, I don’t recognize this foreign emotion inside me. The idea that my son’s annoying plaything is unsafe in my house buzzes like an irritating mosquito in my head.

Uncharacteristically annoyed, I suck on my teeth. The seconds tick by. Someone who’s obsessed with my son’s fire-bonded broke into my home and stalked her from the inside. He probably watched her fuck my son too… Mate with my son.

As I look down, I frown. Flames lick a path up my arms, spreading like a blazing wildfire. I rarely lose control of my hellfire, but now I’m pissed. In fact, I’m so fucking pissed that nothing short of murder will soothe this untamed rage inside me. But who should I acquaint with my demon? A servant? A guard? A human?

“Can you put these fucking flames out?” Daemon growls, shattering my destructive thoughts. With a sweep of my hand, they fizzle out.

“I’ll get my best hunters on it,” I say, more to myself than Daemon. While I mess with him to piss him off, no one else gets to threaten my family and the people they care about. Not unless it’s their wish to die a slow and excruciatingly painful death.

“I meant it, Dad,” Daemon says, stopping in front of me and puffing out his chest. “I’ll slaughter you if you touch her again.”

“And I meant it when I said you should stop behaving like a brat unless it’s your goal to make me fuck her like a whore on my desk. What did we learn from Adam and Eve?” I pat his shoulder as I make my way past him. “The forbidden always tastes the sweetest. And your Aurelia, a sweet, innocent angel from Eden, looks more and more like a juicy red apple by the day. How can I not want to sink my teeth into her soft flesh when you tell me that I can eat from all the other trees but hers? Fuck, son. If that’s not a beacon call to the biggest predator in the woods, I don’t know what is.”

Daemon’s fierce glare burns my back as I leave the room, but I don’t wait to hear his reply. Not now when I have bigger prey in mind. Someone had the damn nerve to enter my house uninvited and threaten the innocent little angel, who, much to my dismay, is proving to be quite an entertaining distraction from the mundane.

One day, when my son is my age, he’ll understand why a little chaos is a good thing. But for now, he’s so driven by his protective instincts that he can’t see past his own aching balls and desire to claim the angel.

DARIANA

The cells in the basement leave a lot to be desired. They’re small, reek of torment and death, and the cold, damp air seeps into your bone marrow. Not to mention the rat that scurries across the floor.

“Let me the fuck out,” the little witch growls, pacing the small confines of her barred cell.

Alaric’s yellow yoyo spins out before he pockets it and straightens off the brick wall. The filthy smirk on his lips tells me he’s amused by this turn of events, and I have to admit that I’m not entirely unaffected myself. Daemon never ceases to surprise me when it comes to the little angel.

His sheer creativity.

“We can’t do that,” Alaric drawls as he stops in front of the bars and cocks his head to the side, that sinful smile spreading across his sensual lips.

Aurelia charges the bars and bares her gleaming teeth with a crazed look in her eyes. “Fuck you!”

His hand flies out and grabs her by the throat through the rusty bars. “You do realize that your fighting only excites us more, right? It entices Daemon more. And when Daemon sets his attention on something, he’s not satisfied until it’s in pieces by his feet.”

“I’m fully aware,” she bites out, clawing at his wrist. “Do you like to pretend to be him when he’s not here? Exert your dominance over me the way he does?”

Over by the far wall, Ronan chuckles before lighting up the cigarette between his lips.

“I do like to exert my dominance over you,” Alaric admits darkly. “I like it when you squirm with need.”

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