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The Darkest Captive (Lords of the Underworld 14.5)

Page 4

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Chitter-chitter. Now there is a good, solid name with lots of nickname potential. Liv. Oli. Olive. Via.

“Are you even listening to me?” Legion demanded with a stomp of her foot.

You resent Aeron for rejecting you, yada yada.

Well, he wasn’t wrong. “With time running out, I made one more attempt to win Aeron’s heart… by stopping the heart of his greatest enemy, Galen. I know, I know. A heart is a super cliché gift. But come on! It was my first romantic gesture.”

Finally! Things are getting interesting. Go on.

“I tracked Galen to a mortal bar, and lured him into the ladies’ bathroom, where I kissed him. To distract him. But that man knows what to do with his tongue. Once we started sucking face, I only wanted more. So, me being me, I took more. I took everything. He popped my berry. That’s what humans call the losing of one’s virginity, yes?”

Sips snickered. You nailed it. Galen popped your berry good.

‘Good’ did not begin to describe it. “Afterward, I got my act together and bit him, injecting him with my venom. But deep down I think I kinda sorta wanted him to survive. Not that it mattered either way. Aeron picked Olivia, and I lost the bet with Lucifer.”

Legion staved off a well of tears. The Prince of Darkness had beaten and violated her in the worst ways. Then he’d let his armies do the same.

Memories surged, unbidden. Hands tied behind my back. A gag stuffed into my mouth. Clothing ripped away. Laughter abounding.

Her throat constricted, cutting off her airway. The things the demons had done to her…the way they’d taunted her…all the sickening ways they’d broken her spirit, soul, and body.

Aeron and a few others had come to her rescue, but by then, she’d been a shell of herself.

Poor Legion. A porcelain doll, shattered into a million little pieces.

Her gaze found the letters Galen had mailed via the robotic birds, the pages stacked on a bright pink desk. She’d drafted and trashed countless replies. What could she tell him, really? The day she’d met him was the last time she’d experienced excitement. She’d had fun with him.

She’d forgotten for a while, but now that she’d remembered… she craved more. Needed more. There was a slight problem, hardly worth mentioning, but, uh, the thought of being with a man, any man, made her physically ill.

“Galen is a bad person,” she said. “The worst of the worst. He needs someone who has a moral compass. My compass is kind of broken. Or nonexistent.” Raised in hell, she’d learned that harming others was a privilege, and screams of agony the perfect lullaby. If you kept your word, you were a fool in need of punishment. If you intentionally helped someone, you were a fool in need of punishment. If you told the truth, you were—yep—a fool in need of punishment. “He’s conceited, arrogant, and a total douche…but still I want to give him a chance. Why?”

Chitter. Possible translation: You hate the person you’ve become. Deep down, you know the only way to have a different life is to do something different. Galen certainly qualifies as different.

Or maybe the proper translation was: You dumb.

“To go on a single date with Galen, I’ll have to leave the cabin for good.” Here, she felt brave, like the Legion of old. Outside, she feared everything. “The second I leave, I’ll negate Hades’s wards.” He’d said he’d owed someone a favor and that, by aiding Legion, he’d fulfilled his obligation, and therefore would never waste time reactivating the wards. “Is being with Galen worth abandoning the protection of the cabin?”

Only if you enjoy pleasure.

She did. And she didn’t. Physically ill, remember?

Sighing, she adjusted the tiara pinned to her braids. Sparkle—a mandatory addition to every girl’s wardrobe. “It would be nice to have a supportive partner.” The way Aeron worshiped and adored Olivia...

On paper, the couple seemed odd. The innocent angel and the erotic demon. In person, they fit together seamlessly.

“Aeron has become a brother to me. A lollipop of man-candy, sure, but still a brother. It’s just…he used to make me feel safe.” Now? The honor belonged to the cabin. A one-sided pairing. But Galen had potential. He was so incredibly strong, he could hold her with one muscular arm and keep the world at bay with the other. “The difference is, I can trust what I feel with Aeron, but I can’t trust anything I feel with Galen.”

What was real, and what was manufactured by his demons?

A strange stillness came over Sips, the hairs on his back standing at attention. Tension thickened the air.

“What’s wrong?” she rasped, her heart jumping.

His claws tapped against the wooden floor as he crossed the living room. He leaped and landed on the windowsill, then peered out the glass. The sun had begun to rise, casting muted golden beams over the forest outside.

Chitter, chitter. Uh-oh. Incoming.

The front door burst open, wood shards raining down. Legion gasped. A bloody Galen loomed in the opening, a scowl twisting his face.

Her knees knocked together, a mix of fear and fascination storming through her. Galen. Here.

As tall and pumped-up with muscle as always, but not as immaculate. Tangled white-blond hair and ocean-water eyes glittered with menace and pain. Blood splattered his shirt and leather pants.

She’d called him beautiful, but she’d been wrong. He. Was. Exquisite. The muted sunlight created a halo-effect, turning him into a fallen angel. Sinister, treacherous—and clearly in pain. The moment he’d stepped onto the porch, he’d had to go toe-to-toe with Hades’s wards.

According to her landlord, those wards would make a man feel as if his head was a bread bowl filled with brain soup.

She gulped. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you,” Galen grated, his voice deep, husky, and anguished. “Let’s go.”

Wires in her brain seemed to flicker to life, reminding her of something she’d once learned about this man. Long ago, he’d strapped his immortals to a table for weeks or months at a time, cut out different organs, and placed those organs in jars so the victim could always see them.

Go with that guy? “No,” she said. Do not panic. Remain calm, aware, and alert. Her dagger. Where was her dagger?

“If you want to live,” he said, stepping inside the cabin, “you’ll come with me. Now.”

Chapter Three

Galen hadn’t seen Legion in so long, the sight of her affected him on a deep, primitive level. Like a punch to the soul. With spiked metal gloves.

Her beauty stole his breath.

Shock and lust momentarily overshadowed the throbbing pain in his temples. Those damn wards. As he fought their mystical hold, he drank in all that was Legion Honey. A waterfall of dark blonde hair, topped by a diamond tiara. Those whiskey-brown eyes now wide with astonishment. Those perfect heart-shaped lips remained parted, as if desperate for a kiss.

She had the face of an angel and the body of a porn star, and he wanted to pray and sin at the same time.

Despite the gravity of their situation, Galen took the time to give her luscious body the languid once-over it deserved. As she panted, her plump breasts rose and fell with rapid succession. Her nipples beaded. She wore an elaborate pink ball gown with a corset top and plunging neckline, the skirt embroidered with roses. On her feet—furry house-boots. A sapphire choker circled her neck, and multiple ruby bands adorned her wrists, adding another layer of sweetness to the whole saint-and-sinner package.

No question, this woman had been created with Galen’s seduction—and downfall—in mind.

His knees quaked, threatening to buckle. As his level of pain intensified, his eyesight hazed. He swallowed a roar of fury and frustration. Not done looking at Legion!

Determined to reach his quarry, to save her, he fought more fervently. Stay upright. Ignore the aches. Push one foot forward, then the other…

Finally! Movement. Muscles unlocked from bone, and he stumbled into the foyer.

The wards fought b

ack, hard, melting his brain. Something warm and wet dripped from his eyes…his nose…his ears. He frowned and reached up, his fingers trembling. A swift swipe revealed copious amounts of blood.

Both demons wailed, the pain cutting through them.

Legion looked Galen over and flinched. Voice hoarse, she said, “I wasn’t sure…I thought I could…I can’t! You should leave. You must leave.”

“Not going…anywhere…without you.” The pain crested, searing agony consuming every inch of him. Still he moved forward, stumbling deeper into the cabin. A surge of adrenaline acted as fuel, keeping him on his feet. “There’s another army…coming for you.”

The color drained from her face as she scrambled away from him. A reaction he abhorred with every fiber of his being. He longed to shout, Do not run from me. Come closer.

“Another army?” she said between wheezing breaths.

“I slaughtered the first. You’re welcome.”

A raccoon jumped off the window, inspected Galen up and down, and yawned. There was something odd about the animal, though. An energy he’d never before encountered.

No time to ponder the reason. A brutal force knocked him to his knees, a brand new pain lancing the arch of his wing. He’d been plugged by an arrow, he realized.

Well, hell. The second army had arrived.

He glanced over his shoulder. Roughly a mile away, soldiers exited the forest and unleashed a volley of spears. With a curse, Galen slammed the door shut.

Thunk, thunk, thunk.

The tips came out the other side. He moved to the center of the room while yanking the projectile out of his wing. A river of crimson gushed from the wound.



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