Page 69 of Hell Fae King
“Doesn’t explain your rant,” I retorted.
“Doesn’t it, though?” he asked, his lips curling as his thumb traced my cheekbone in a gentle caress. “Maybe Cami has softened both of us.”
“I have not gone soft.”
He pressed me back into the wall, his hips meeting mine. “No, you’re still as hard and hot as ever,” he agreed. “Now stop avoiding the topic and listen to what I’ve said.”
A growl vibrated my chest. “I’ve already told you I won’t submit, Az. I meant it. So don’t fucking force it.”
“I’m not telling you to submit, Ajax. I’m asking you tolisten. To hear my apology. To know how fucking sorry I am. To realize I’m willing to do anything and everything to make it up to you.” He dropped his forehead to mine, his minty breath fanning across my lips. “We speak with our bodies, Ajax. Not our mouths. That’s always been the way for us. So fucking destroy me if you have to. I’ll accept it. Just…” He trailed off on a sigh that had me wanting to shove him away.
We didn’t do this emotional bullshit.
We sparred. We fucked. And we sparred again.
None of thistalkingor admitting tofeelings.
This… this was…
My jaw clenched. Because I couldn’t define this moment. It felt vulnerable and far more overwhelming than moments ago when I’d faced my past.
What the hell is wrong with me?I wondered.Why is this so much more impactful than Dakota’s death?
Because it’s Az, some part of me whispered.This is the future. The present. The way things will be from now on.
We were connected via his Phoenix. Mated for life.
And we shared Cami, too.
A mate circle.
With Melek as well,I thought begrudgingly.And Lucifer.
Fuck, it was all too much. I wanted to rant, to rage, to… tohit something.
No. Notsomething.Someone.
Az.
And somehow he’d known. He knew this was the emotional outlet I required. The fight I needed. The inevitable explosion I craved deep within.
Not because of my past or Dakota or the deaths of Emelyn and my parents.
It was because ofthis—the simmering passion between me and Az. The hum of my bond with Cami. The anger I felt toward Lucifer for leaving me on the outside for too long. The residual fury I felt toward Az for holding me at arm’s length.
Understanding his reasons was one thing. Accepting them was entirely another.
Az was right. We needed this—our outlet. A communication between our bodies. A fight between our souls.
“Flames, I hate how well you know me,” I told him. “Yet I feel like I know nothing about you at all.”
“You know more than most,” he conceded. “But you’re welcome to get to know me better.”
I grunted and shoved him off of me. “How? By chatting?”
“No,” he returned, coming right back for me and slamming me against the wall behind me. “By fighting,” he snarled, nipping my bottom lip and drawing blood.
Growling, I tried to shove him again.
