Page 41 of A Story of Sinners

He rubbed the back of his neck, his wings slumping as he avoided looking in my direction. “I don’t think I went about this the right way. It was…but now isn’t.” His gaze met mine, confusion passing through his eyes. “I don’t know what went wrong.”

He acted as if he could see the future. My brows furrowed. Could he?

“You—You thought you would be my present?” I waved my hand between us, completely bewildered. “You left me in a dungeon! Abandoned me at the lowest point in my adult life, and you, what? Thought an attempt to mate me would be well received?”

Malachi moved towards me. “No, I—it was supposed to be well received. I don’t understand.”

I backed away from him, halting him with my hand. “You keep forgetting, I already have a mate. Believe me when I tell you, he’s already too much to handle.”

Malachi didn’t like the reminder, not one bit. His jaw clenched, and he gritted his teeth. “Like I said, that can be undone.”

“No,” I claimed. “I don’t want it to be undone.”

At least not yet. My feelings for Ryken were confusing at best. A deep part of me yearned for him, while a large part resented him—for leaving, for issuing a bond that only went in one direction. There were so many mixed feelings when it came to him, but I couldn’t deny the burning desire that filled my senses whenever I looked at him, whenever I touched him, whenever he touched me. I owed it to myself to be given the opportunity to truly get to know him, to discover where the bond ended and honest feelings began.

A loud pop sounded from the corner of the room, and Ryken appeared, as if summoned by the thought. Sparks of lightning crackled off his form as silver hair wafted in the air, his eyes burning with metallic fire. His palm lifted, and a strange sort of silver shadow spilled out, shadows that seemed oddly familiar. His power struck Malachi right in the chest.

Malachi hissed at the blast and reeled backwards, smashing against the wall. He collapsed, clutching his chest and coughing small splatters of blood. Inky black shadows twisted around his body, and a deep rattling emanated from within the dark, smokey cloud shielding him.

Ryken threw a silver ball of fire towards the dark shadows, but they swallowed it whole. His palm lifted in another attempt, but his body stilled at my cry.

I couldn’t take it anymore—the pain had transformed to a burning desire and lust. My insides turned molten, and another cry spilled from my lips.

Ryken’s eyes met my hungry gaze, and he advanced with a fiery look of determination, halting before me. His cool hand met my face, a soft balm to my overheated skin. I leaned into the touch and nuzzled, a purr vibrating from somewhere within me.

Ryken smirked. “Does my little crow need me?”

“Yes,” I found myself begging in a voice that wasn’t entirely my own. “I need you so badly. I ache. It aches.”

He chuckled, and my gaze shifted to the pile of shadows at the edge of the room, the ones refusing to disappear or fade away.

Ryken pinched my chin and dragged my gaze back to his. “He can watch.”

Chapter17

Ryken

My comment had been a facetious one. If that demon even dared look at her, he would die. I was already furious enough that he’d tried to move on her while she was at her most vulnerable, and the only reason I hadn’t killed him yet was because of Eulalia’s demands.

It wouldn’t be wise to attempt to kill him,she’d whispered, parting words that filled me with frustration, as there would be noattempt—only success.

The witch continuously tested my patience with her demands to remain on the right path of fate. I was nearly at my breaking point, well prepared to throw fate in the garbage.

I’d listened to the witch when she demanded I stay in the ballroom for five minutes before departing, but it had been five minutes entirely too long. I’d scented the change before it overtook my little crow, but I was forced to watch that bastard as he awaited the opportunity to strike.

I would be damned if he laid hands on my mate before I could get to her.

Dahlia nuzzled her face into my hand as the demon watched on, releasing a deeply intoxicating purr, and it became clear—even at her most vulnerable, she would never allow another’s hands to touch her.

Another loud rattling sounded from the pile of dense shadows, and I tilted my head, gazing into the darkness. My canines lengthened to sharp points, and my hand gripped Dahlia’s neck, twisting her around as I continued to peer into the shadows.

She tilted her head to the side as she begged. “Please.” So, I shifted her into a position where he would see what came next.

I bit, right into that claiming mark on her neck, instilling the bond I held over her. She moaned at the prick of pain, and her purr—that glorious purr—filled the room with bliss.

“Yes,” she cried, brazenly rubbing her bottom against the bulge in my pants. “More. Please.”

Maybe he could watch after all. I certainly wasn’t waiting.

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