Page 65 of Her Males

Silas slips his knife back into Don’s abdomen, but this time, he punctures a lung. Don lets out a choked cry and hunches forward, the scent of his fear thick in the room. It’s practically suffocating, and I feel Aziel bury his face further in my hair to try to escape it.

Silas glances between me and the barely contained Aziel.

“Go,” he tells me.

With a curt nod, I teleport to Greed.

My knees buckle as I materialize in Mammon’s sitting room. The place smells of Charlie, and my nostrils flare as I walk to the chair that holds most of her scent.

Mammon worked with a coven of witches long ago to create a spell that prevents anybody from teleporting anywhere in her home other than into this sitting room. They offered Silas the same thing after he found and returned one of their lost great spellbooks, but he turned it down in lieu of getting a ring that allowed me to use less energy when I teleport. It was a waste of a favor, considering I took it as a sign of weakness and never wear it.

Charlie would be safe if we’d taken up the witches’ initial offer.

Impatient for Mammon to arrive, I grab the chair Charlie sat in and whip it toward the ceiling. The glass pierces my skin as it rains down, but I heal before the pieces even settle on the ground. There’s no movement beyond the guarded door that leads to the room, and I grab the coffee table and smash it against the armoire with a muffled grunt.

The force crushes both items, and I step over the debris before moving to the remaining couch and chair.

“For fuck’s sake. You’re acting about as irrational as Aziel,” Mammon says, storming into the room.

“Where is she?”

Mammon glances around the room in disbelief. “She’s in bed, just like you should be,” she snaps, stepping over the shattered glass as she approaches. “She doesn’t wish to return to you, and I will not be letting you take her.”

I still refuse to believe it.

“You can’t hold her hostage. We’ll consider it an act of war,” I threaten, ignoring the guards who pool into the room and stand along the far wall.

Mammon shrugs, seemingly unconcerned. “Are you really in a position to start a fight? Charlotte shared the report, and it’s only a matter of days before every breed you may think yourself aligned with turns against you,” she coldly states. “I gave Charlotte the option to return to you, and she chose to stay.”

I grind my teeth. Mammon’s lying.

“I want to see her,” I say.

Mammon sighs.

“I’m not leaving until I see her for myself, and I’m sure Aziel will find his way here if I’m not home soon,” I continue. We both know it to be true.

Aziel is already on edge, and I doubt he’ll be waiting long for my return.

Mammon gestures for the guards to follow as she turns and leads me inside. I’m not intimidated by them, and I practically step on Mammon’s heels as I follow her.

Charlie’s scent grows stronger as Mammon leads me down a maze of hallways, and I flare my nostrils as I search for any fear or blood. To my complete relief, there is none.

Mammon stops in front of a door and spins to face me.

“I was informed it took her hours to fall asleep, and if you wake her, you won’t be welcome to visit again,” she threatens, her voice low as she steps to the side.

My hand shakes as I grab the knob and inch open the door. I immediately recognize the tuft of hair sticking out of the sheets, and I step closer to get a better look. The scent of Charlie’s salty tears is thick, and I frown and step fully into the room.

Mammon stops me from shutting myself in with Charlie, her stern expression unwavering as she holds her hand against the door to keep it open. My jaw clenches shut, matching hers, but I don’t fight.

Charlie’s breathing is deep and even as I walk to the side of the bed. It’s too dark for her to make out my figure even if she were to wake up, and I take comfort in that as I crouch and stare at the dried wetness on her cheeks.

She cried herself to sleep, but she otherwise looks uninjured. She wouldn’t have dozed off if she were being held against her will.

That’s a hard pill to swallow.

Have we been so awful that she felt she had no option but to run to Mammon?

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