Page 65 of Hell Bites

Felix

This used to bother me.

Watching Davina get railed by one or two of her guards.

The first time it happened, I thought she was being attacked, that the males were forcing her, because I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of the female I loved committing an act of adultery. She’d always been clear that my infidelity would lead to death, that she was my first and only for as long as I lived, but we never talked about her.

I knew there were lovers before me, I wasn’t stupid and Davina is old as fuck, but I didn’t seriously expect any after me. Not with the way she drilled loyalty into my head.

So, each time—because it happened frequently before I caught on—I walked in to find her in bed with sometimes up to five partners, I would lose my goddamn mind and kill everyone but her. Davina played the part, too. She’d scream and wail, plead with me to save her, beg the males to stop hurting her. Then, after I “saved” her, she’d cry while I held her.

Right up until she managed to turn me on enough to try to fuck me in all the bloodshed.

I felt like a goddamn hero, and Davina was my spoils of war but I couldn’t do that.

Solely because I was too fucking worried about her. The adrenaline and hero complex was enough to turn me on but I was so focused on making sure she wasn’t hurt that I got her cleaned up and cared for and I couldn’t do anything more.

Which is why it kept happening.

It was a sick game, this weird method of turning me into her super soldier or whatever.

Fighting for her, killing anyone who threatened her, the adrenaline and endorphins, the dopamine that was released over being the hero coupled with sex. It worked for a while and once I realized she was willingly sleeping with those males she claimed were raping her, the rage I experienced turned all of that into one hell of a cocktail.

I almost killed her because of it.

Davina didn’t think I’d lose it when the realization sunk in, but I did. I almost murdered her and it took a very long time for me to calm the fuck down and forgive her… like a fucking moron.

None of it could really be helped, though.

I was naive as fuck, Davina was literally all I’d ever known, and my loyalty was practically hardwired to override any logic or intelligence I had. Not to mention the copious amounts of demon blood she was pumping into me on a regular basis. That took gluttony to an entirely new level and it’s exactly why I was such a monster for so long.

And it’s why her adulterous ways were hidden from that point forward.

Until she wanted to hurt me, anyway.

The last year I was here? Davina made me watch, just like she is now, while I was full of demon blood, just like I am now, and it was just to make everything I felt more intense so she could do the most damage.

The only difference is I don’t give a shit right now.

I’m fucking numb. I’m empty. I have literally nothing left, no fucks to give, and I couldn’t care less if Davina fucked a goddamn elephant in front of me.

Well…

Maybe not that. I’d feel terrible for the gentle beast, and I’d have a lot a questions about what the fuck she’d been doing since I left if she could take a bull elephant.

I still don’t give a shit about what she does, though.

I’ve been back in Purgatory for about a week, by my calculations, and I haven’t reacted to one single stunt she’s pulled.

Fucking males, fucking females. Gang bangs. The train her guards ran on her for about three hours. None of it moved my meter one way or the other and when I actually fell asleep during her BDSM session with Bythor—the biggest, ugliest vampire to ever live, who has one eye and more boils than I’ve ever seen on one living thing—I thought Davina’s head was going to explode.

Which is what led to my current position.

About forty eight hours ago, she had her men bring in something comparable to a St. Andrew’s Cross, hang it from the ceiling of her dungeon by a series of ropes and pulleys, then they strapped me to it. Naked as the day I was born, spread out like a goddamn starfish, and permanently facing Davina’s bedroom portion. I’m affixed like a fucking decoration and it’s killing my back. The muscles had already started to shift and now that I’m flat against the wood, I wish they hadn’t.

They’ve been pumping me with demon and human blood, live sources that they suspend over me when they tip the cross back so it’s horizontal. Which is absolutely done when that bitch wants to fuck me instead of whatever idiot was stupid enough to climb into her bed.

She’s been pissed off because I can’t get it up for her.

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