“Because you’ll leave.”
“Damn fucking right I’ll leave. You abducted me. You killed Ant.” My expression hardens, grief washing through me as red-hot tears burn my eyes and my heart fractures.
Something flickers in his eyes, something dark that makes my stomach clench with fear.
I know Daemon is dangerous. I’ve known that for years. But I’ve never been scared of him quite like I have been tonight. I always thought his wrath was aimed only toward the enemy—I mean, I guess it was tonight too—but still, I can’t help feeling like I’m suddenly one of them.
“He was touching you. He was…” His jaw clenches so hard, I can’t help thinking it must hurt.
“I wanted him to,” I shout when I realise that he’s not going to finish that thought, making him rear back a little. “I wanted him to be touching me. I wanted to be his. And he wanted me too. He wasn’t hiding from me. He wasn’t walking away.” With every word, my voice gets louder, angrier.
But despite the fire burning in his eyes, he doesn’t bite back. And when he speaks again, it’s soft.
“He doesn’t deserve you, beautiful.”
A bitter laugh falls from my lips. “And you do?”
“Never.”
“This is insane. Let me go.”
“No.”
“Daemon, I swear to fucking God, if you don’t let me go I’ll…” I don’t have any words to finish that threat, so instead, I start thrashing about, kicking my legs and shoving the sheets he’s covered me with from my body in my need to hurt him.
The second my foot makes contact with his shin, pain shoots up from my toes, swiftly halting my movements.
“Callista,” he warns, his hand wrapping around my thigh, drawing me closer to him.
My breath catches as his touch sends a bolt of electricity shooting through my body. It makes me achingly aware of how little I’m wearing. The fact that he’s clearly already seen everything, considering I might not have exactly been dressed when he threw me over his shoulder and marched me out of Ant’s room, I still felt significantly more covered than I am now.
“Do not chastise me like a child. Like I’m being an irrational brat, Nikolas.”
His breath catches at my use of his real name. The one given to him at birth that I know he hates, one that everyone seems to have forgotten exists seeing as Daemon, his middle name, suits him so much better.
“Don’t,” he warns, his voice low and deadly.
“Or what? You'll shoot me too?”
He freezes, his grip on my thigh tightening on me for a beat, revealing that my words have some kind of impact on him.
“Never,” he breathes, pushing up on his elbow so he can look down at me, but he doesn’t release my leg, his fingertips digging into my soft flesh.
My breath catches when I find the deep scratches on the cheek he was lying on, but I drag my eyes away.
His eyes search my face. It’s as if he’s committing every inch of me to his memory before they drop lower, taking in his shirt that I’m wrapped in before moving down to my bare legs and the contrast of his darker skin against mine.
“You’re the only person on this planet that I’d never harm. You’re a fucking angel, Calli.”
His eyes find mine again and my breath catches in my throat at the intensity of them.
He really means those words.
So why the hell are we here?
Swallowing down the lump that’s crawled up my throat and blinking away the tears that are burning the backs of my eyes, I hold his stare, summoning up all the courage I possess.
“If that’s true, then you need to release me.”