Page 18 of Deadmen's Captive

“Yes,” I said, my heart sinking as I glanced at the charity items in my wardrobe.

“I will not tolerate disobedience Paige, and I will not have you showing me up at Blackvellyn. Or your father. I will remove you first.”

“No, please. I'll do better, I promise.” I couldn’t lose my place here. It was my ticket out of this life and I couldn’t risk losing that. I closed my eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. She couldn’t hear me crying. I couldn't show any weakness.

“You’d better. Now, back to business. You didn’t send me a photo of the scales this morning. What’s your weight today?”

Chapter Seven

UNKNOWN

You worried me tonight, Paige. You always get back to your dorm at ten to seven, but tonight you weren’t there. I was waiting to make sure you got home ok, after that guy got stabbed to death in town the other night. They say he was knifed twenty seven times. There are crazy people around, Paige, and I’m just watching out for you.

I came round the building to see if you had just been held up, and there you were. Talking to a guy. Another guy, Paige. Really? I know this one. The girls go crazy for him, then he uses them up and spits them out. He’s a player, preying on naïve young girls like you. I see right through him. Trust me, I just want what's best for you.

Sure, he’s not dangerous, but he’s not good for you, Paige. He doesn’t deserve your attention, or the way you smiled up at him. He only wants one thing from you. they all do. Not like me. I just want you to be happy, Paige. You're different, special. So don’t worry. I’m going to take care of you. I’ll make sure they stop bothering you.

Chapter Eight

NATE

Irarely used the university gym. It was loud and harshly lit, full of pretentious dickheads admiring their puny muscles in the mirrors. When we took over Thanatos House this year after Bast was elected as Hades, we quickly converted one of the downstairs rooms into a gym. Instead of huge mirrors on every wall, one wall was glass, looking out into the peaceful green garden behind the house. The machines were the highest quality money could buy, there were hot working showers nearby, and best of all, it wasn’t full of knobheads. And yet, here I was. Waiting for her to show.

It wasn’t unusual for a room to go quiet when I entered. The noise of weights and chatter filled the large room, but the moment I walked in, it was like someone had hit pause on everything except the blasting radio in the corner. Eyes flicked up, then quickly away. A couple of guys shared nervous glances. Yeah, they knew who I was. What I was capable of. I knew my reputation spoke for itself. I had designed it that way. That way, no one ever bothered me. They stood around in little groups, not talking, not really looking, but still watching me.

I didn't give a damn. They weren't why I was here.

Moving past the rows of machines and benches, I made my way to the boxing area. The heavy bag was waiting, like an old friend ready for a beating. My wraps were on, knuckles primed. I started with a jab, feeling the satisfying thud against the worn leather. Then another. Harder. Faster. Around me, the other guys went back to their workouts. A few girls were lifting free weights in one corner, but she wasn’t one of those. Paige tended to keep to herself. There was a yoga class going on next door, but something told me she wasn’t really a yoga girl either.

Movement at the door had me glancing up, and there she was. Paige Matthews. When I’d laid eyes on her in that club, I had thought for a moment that Tris was having me on. There was no way this was the girl he wanted for Persephone. She was nothing like us. I mean, sure her family had some standing in society once, but that was really all she had going for her application. She was quiet, introverted, and not particularly social. Whereas the other girls were dripping in designer wear, and not high street designer either, Paige looked like she’d just walked out of an Abba concert, with that long curly blonde hair and her hippy clothes.

She definitely had Bast confused as well. It was traditional to follow the Persephone applicants around for a weeks beforehand, as well as random other girls in order to keep the students guessing what we were up to, but normally the Reapers were randomly assigned in shifts depending on their classes and sport schedules, so it was rarely one guy following one girl. Hence the skull masks. With Paige, Bast had insisted it was just us that followed her, and to mine and Tristan’s surprise, he’d included himself in the shifts. Hades never followed the girls. He was supposed to “meet” her at the Halloween Ball, but not this year. This year, Bast was doing most of the following. I wasn’t going to pretend I knew how his mind worked. We’d been friends since we were kids, and practically brothers from our later teens, but still waters ran deep, and Bast’s were Mariana Trench level.

I watched the girl who’d caught his interest - our interest - meander quietly through the machines, trying to take up as little space as possible. She didn’t want to be noticed. But she had been. I watched her move onto the mats near the mirrors, setting her water bottle down at the edge, and glancing around her. She started to stretch, and I set down the free weights I’d been lifting, shifting to one of the leg machines so I could get a better look.

I’d felt that body pressed up against me in that dark, crowded club, and it had felt pretty damn good, but to see her now, stretching out like some kind of feline goddess in those close fitting workout clothes, I could appreciate the shape of her much better. She moved through a stretching routine with an effortless flow that told me she’d worked out a lot. I deliberately slowed my movements, leaning forward and pretending to adjust my weights as she dropped to the floor. I watched as she laid on her back, feet on the ground and legs slightly parted as she began pulling herself into slow deliberate sit ups. I watched her leg muscles tense and contract, my eyes seeking the shadowed area between her legs. I could practically feel those legs wrapping tight around my head as I ate out her pussy.

I couldn’t wait until she took on the role,and yet at the same time, the thought unnerved me. I’d been reluctant to take on the position of DeathKnight, knowing what was expected, but Bast had insisted. He’d demanded I take up the role, arguing he couldn’t trust anyone else, and swearing I wouldn’t have to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with. Oh the irony. Not being comfortable with regular fucking, having to dive deep down into sheer depravity just to endure another human’s touch.

No, my interaction with Paige would be limited to duty only. She was probably too pure for what we did, too untouched. Not like she'd be into the darkness that I craved. I knew Bast had thought about it. He liked them innocent. Innocent and completely submissive. He was all about control, and I got that, but for me, control was just the start. The thought of breaking her... Shit, it shouldn't have been appealing, but there was something about her innocence that fucked with my head.

I bit my lip hard, tasting blood as she rolled onto her front, and dropped down into proper push ups. Hmm, she might be tiny, but the girl was strong for her size. Was her mind as strong as her body, I wondered? I liked it. Strong women always turned me on.

I slipped off the machine, returning to the punching bag, as Paige got up and made her way to one of the machines.

Then she started lifting, arms reaching above her head as she hoisted the dumbbells into a perfect shoulder press. Her muscles flexed, defined and strong, yet still so feminine. And just like that, my thoughts twisted dark. I pictured those same arms cuffed to the walls of the club house, wrists bound, leaving her helpless. I saw myself standing before her, taking what I wanted—what she secretly craved.

"Fuck," I hissed under my breath, noticing how several other guys in the room were also watching her. She’d upped the ante, clearly pushing herself hard. Her top clung to her, soaked through with sweat, outlining the small curve of her breasts, and her leggings were close fitting and left nothing to the imagination. A couple of the guys moved closer, choosing machines close by where they could watch her, and I hit the bag again, harder this time, imagining their faces. They were like vultures, circling her and my heart beat harder as I was filled with a primal, protective instinct to smash those leering faces into the polished floors until they learned their place.

Soon, I thought. Soon she would be Persephone and the entire university would know she was off limits. They wouldn’t dare breathe the same fucking air as her. Until then, I would ensure the gym was empty when she arrived for her workout. Well, other than me of course.

My chest tightened as I suddenly saw her heading straight for me. This wasn’t the plan. Had she noticed me watching her? Clearly not. She turned off before reaching me, heading to the cable machine. No, please, if there’s a God, don’t let her choose… fuck.

She reached out, attaching the straps to the cable machine, and pulling them down as she took her stance. I could already feel my cock hardening as she let the cables slide back into place, spreading her arms out wide so her body formed a T shape. I couldn’t help it. My mind immediately began planning the way I’d walk over to her, wrapping those cables tight around her wrists, setting the weights so heavy they held her in place. More cables would attach to the bottom of the machine, weighted and tightened to pull her legs apart. She’d be completely at my mercy, defenceless against me. I pictured her there, spread out for me, looking up at me with those innocent eyes and pleading for mercy. My heart pounded in my chest just thinking about it.

I let out a ragged breath, my knuckles burning as I slammed them into the bag once more, imagining how I’d tear that ridiculous top from her body. Her sports bra too, yanking it down so I could get my hands on those luscious little tits, squeezing and biting them. How her muscles would strain against the cables, her soft cries for mercy only fuelling me further...

I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, smearing both sweat and frustration away. I couldn't let this slip. Couldn't let her undo me. But damn if she didn't pull at something inside me—a darkness I kept leashed.

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