Page 66 of Of Night and Blood: Special Edition

I had no words for him. My thoughts were utter chaos, my pulse a beating drum. Nothing and everything were being said at the same time with my silence. Still, Bellamy pressed on, as if the pain of rejection hurt far less than the agony of not trying.

“I can give you everything. I can make you happy. Stay with me, and I promise I will always be yours. Choose me, and I vow to never stop choosing you. Be mine, Asher,” he rasped against my ear, his hot breath a tickle and his words a dangerous promise. My head was spinning with the need for him, my heart racing from the fear of what he was asking of me.

I could lie, placate him just to have this moment. But for some reason, I was unable to form the words.

That hesitation was all it took.

Bellamy kissed my shoulder softly.

“I think you should get some rest,” he whispered.

He let me go, fixing the band for my breasts before leaning away from me to remove his top and place it over my head. The view of his exposed chest and arms was no help. He was all muscle, looking as if he were honed for a never-ending battle. Those strange tattoos stood out in contrast to the white of his skin, as if someone had taken kohl and drawn on him lazily.

After I pulled my arms through the sleeves, he reached down beside us, snatching up my cloak. He wrapped it around me, placing a soft kiss between my collar bones. Then he grabbed my boots, putting each one on my feet and lacing them before standing once more.

He made his way to his tent, his back flexed and emotions barely locked down. I waited for him to look back. To explain. To say anything else. But he did not.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Hours passed and the others had still not arrived.

Most of that time I spent outside by the fire. I was shocked and embarrassed, but also furious. Bellamy had practically begged me to kiss him, and then he had the audacity to reject me while I was topless below him? My hand found my necklace, remarkably still intact, twirling it and resisting the urge to think of anything but the stupid demon.

Changing his mind was one thing, which I could respect, but this had been different. The demon wanted me to choose him. What did that even mean?

He was still plotting and playing games, not caring what it might do to my heart. And that pained me more than anything he had done to me before.

For a moment, I had thought I deserved it after pushing him away and rejecting him for so long. Yet, he had lied to me and betrayed me enough times that I was rather certain he had earned my poor attitude. So many times that a part of me despised him.

Ultimately it had been for the best. I would have regretted having sex with him later, no matter how great it felt in the moment. I was already angry that I had given him even the smallest part of myself after all he had done.

When I finally found my way back into the tent, my traitorous mind thought of him. What he might be doing. How he might have worshipped my body as if I were a blessing rather than the curse so many before had told me I was. I pictured what I would find if I searched for his thoughts, and then wondered if I should go to his tent and make some demands of my own.

While laying on my cot, an infinitely better idea sparked. I smirked, closing my eyes and getting comfortable. Using my powers this soon after burning out was stupid at best, but I was bitter, and pouting had done me no good. Plus, I could tell that my well of power was far deeper than I had previously believed. I could handle a small bit of revenge.

Reaching out, I tasted the air, seeing if his emotions had finally broken through that shield of his.

Eternity must have been feeling vengeful as well, because there he was, just as horribly disgruntled as I. But I did not risk attempting to read into his current thoughts, instead opting to feed him fresh ones. Better ones, if I dared say.

Images of me sneaking into his tent made their way to the front of his mind. I would be bare save the cloak he had leant me days ago, which would hang lazily from my shoulders. Then I altered the scene, flashing to me crawling on top of him, the cloak on the ground.

I could sense the arousal he was feeling, the excitement that set the hair on his body rising and brought bumps to his skin. A strong gust of wind hit my tent, and it took everything in me not to break the connection or show myself too soon as his powers got away from him. I gave him no mercy as I proceeded.

Then he was seeing me take off his trousers, my lips placing kisses up his thighs.

The demon was positively lost in the fantasy. Though I could not see what he was doing per se, I felt it, the unhinged chaos a relief from my own animosity.

I conjured up the sight of my mouth wrapping around his—

Black fire came at me, shoving my power out of his head and forming a solid wall of flame to keep me out. But the damage had already been done, and I was laughing as my power came back to me.

I gleefully hoped that feeling of unfulfillment would haunt him for a while.

Rustling from outside cut my joy short. I scrambled out of the furs, launching myself upright. Was he really going to storm in here?

But it was not Bellamy that popped his head through the opening of the tent. It was Henry, his orange hair a mess from traveling and his clothes still covered in blood. The shreds in his leathers remained, but the skin underneath was unmarred. Healed perfectly.

Surprise lit the demon’s face. For a moment I was unsure why, but then he let his eyes fall onto my torso, a smirk forming. Glancing down, I realized too late that I was still in Bellamy’s top. Horror filled me. I did not want Henry thinking I was sleeping with his prince. The two of us had formed a sort of friendship the last few days, and I hated to think he would pull away from training with me or spending time with me out of fear of Bellamy. I hastily wrapped my cloak tight around me.

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