Page 50 of Wicked Magik
Yeah, no problem.
The man's lip curled upward into a smile, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth that gleamed under the light. His complexion was strange, a light shade of gray with perhaps a subtle hint of blue, reminding me of the pallor of a corpse. It added an unsettling aura to his presence.
Despite this, his features were undeniably handsome. A charm that was both alluring and downright dangerous.
Oryx's fur bristled as his back arched and his claws came out. I sensed danger; the man posed a threat, and I retreated deeper into the shadows.
“Oryx?” The man whispered again, his hair falling around his chiseled face.
Oryx continued to growl, becoming even more ferocious as snarls and drool pooled on the floor. He was consumed by the same intense fury I had witnessed when he had attacked the humans weeks earlier.
I stepped forward and put a hand on his back, only then did he slightly relax but there was no change in his stance.
The shadows then engulfed the man and within a blink of an eye, the warlock creature was gone.
Oryx turned suddenly and enveloped me in his powerful arms, pulling me close to his chest. His tail coiled around us like a protective barrier, its smooth texture pressing gently against my back. He inhaled deeply, as if savoring the moment, drawing in the scent of our closeness.
“You hurt?” His tongue swept across my neck and paused right over my jugular. Oryx was breathing hard, and his dick was pressed right up against me.
I swallowed. “I’m fine, but who was that?”
Oryx growled. “My Lord. Lord Veylor. My creator.”
My head reared back but Oryx kept his body wrapped around me.
“He will not take you from me. He has no right, you are mine.”
I pursed my lips together. “You didn’t tell me he was a full blown magik guy. Is he a warlock or something? How exactly were you created?”
Oryx grunted and held me tighter.
“Don’t know exactly. A fae, but more. He can wield magik, but more than an average warlock.”
I felt a mix of revulsion and uncertainty. This Lord treats Oryx as if he’s insignificant, yet insists on keeping him close. I overheard him accusing me of poisoning Oryx and trying to take him away. But away from what, really? A life of being lonely, bedridden, and shackled to a wall? I couldn't decide if I was doing the right thing.
The need to protect Oryx from this douchebag was soaring by the minute.
Oryx hummed, his tongue still wrapped around my neck. His stomach rumbled and I stiffened in his arms. Along with dealing with this Lord, I also needed to emotionally take care of Oryx like he has taken care of me.
He’s done more for me than anyone else has– besides my mother. He feeds, protects and cuddles me. More affection than I have ever received in my life, I’d even say he’s my best friend. I welcomed him all too quickly but I think it is because we both hated to be alone.
Oryx’s stomach rumbles again but he ignores it. His tongue again swipes around my neck. He’s hungry, and he hasn’t been out to get more blood. Benedict can’t hunt, he’s only a fae, or so he says. Who really knows because Oryx is clueless.
“Are you hungry, Oryx?” I pulled my head back and his tongue let go of my skin.
He purred and shook his head.
I raised a brow. “You didn’t eat the past two meals because you are out of animal's blood, so be honest. Remember this trust we are building?”
Oryx jerked his head back in surprise. “Are you wanting to feed me?”
Damn him and reading my mind.
“I’m sorry, pet, I just, you are loud right now. I have been trying my best.”
And he has. Oryx says he can usually block me out, and I’m trusting that means he’s keeping my thoughts out. But with how angry I am about Lord Veylor and him…I’m probably shouting in his mind.
“Yes, I’m thinking about it. You won't go hunting without me will you?” Because Oryx has attachment issues. It’s gotten worse. He wants to sit beside me while I pee now. He’s even in the bathroom with me while I bathe and now he wants to bathe me like I am his pet.
