The Sacrifice

"It makes no sense," he said, shaking his head. "Goes against both our natures."

"I know."

"And yet..."

"And yet," I agreed, taking a tentative step closer.

"Can't make you any kind of promises, babe," he told me, closing the distance, his hands sliding around my hips. "I don't have the control here that you'd like me to have."

"None?" I pressed, chin dipping toward my chest, making my forehead brush his chest. "Not even that I will live through this?" I asked. "Whatever this is. Whatever you all want with me."

"Unless shit goes sideways," he started his upper body folding forward, letting his face press into my hair, taking a deep breath, "you are going to live through it."

"Okay," I agreed, nodding.

"Okay? Staying alive—that is all you want?"

"Well, no. I want other things," I said, lips curving up even though he couldn't see my smile.

"Well, those things, I can sure as fuck give you," he told me, voice deep, full of promises. "But not right now," he clarified. "I need to go do some damage control. And you have to stay down here."

"Okay," I agreed, nodding.

"I'll bring you something to eat after I deal with Ace."

"Will I be able to come back to your room again?" I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"Depends."

"On?"

"How sad you will be that you can't be there," he told me, pulling back a bit too smirk down at me.

"Oh, right," I agreed, smile tugging at my lips. "I have a feeling if I am stuck down here for more than a day or two, things might start to get very wet outside."

"Thatta girl," he agreed, fingers moving out to snag my chin, yanking it up, then sealing his lips over mine.

It was meant, I thought, to be an 'until later' kiss, but as soon as our lips met, a fire burned, raged, consumed, until I was clinging to him, and his hands were sinking into my behind, yanking me forward, crushing me against his hardness, making that heat bloom in my core and move outward until it consumed me completely.

My hands slid under his shirt, teased over his hot skin, grazing over the multitude of scars there—raised and smoother than the rest of his skin. I wanted to know their stories, fully aware of the ugliness those tales likely held.

Maybe I wasn't as light as I was supposed to be, as I had been raised to be. I should have rejected everything about the cruelty etched on his skin. Yet there was no denying that I found myself inexplicably fascinated.

The deep sound of a throat clearing was a cold bath raining down on us, making us break apart, turning before we could even draw breaths.

There was Minos, arms folded, cold gaze on Lycus, not even sparing me a glance.

"Shit isn't complicated enough?" he asked, shaking his head. "You know how this is going to go," he added, being deliberately vague about, I imagined, my likely future.

"It's not your business," Ly shot back.

"No," Minos agreed, sighing so deeply, his massive chest look deflated. "But if Ace loses his shit, we are all going to suffer. Maybe especially her. You might want to keep that in mind," he said, turning to go up the stairs, still not looking at me. "Ace wants a meeting. That's why I came down here," he added before disappearing.

"I have to go," Ly told me, taking a deep breath.

"Yes," I agreed, nodding.

"I will get some food down here after," he said, walking toward the stairs, heading up without another word, or even a glance.

Alone, I fell back on the bed, pressing a hand to my beating heart, finding myself confused by the complexity of feelings there. The battle with my old beliefs, and my burgeoning new ones. The resentment and anger I felt toward the demons, with the softness and heat I felt for Lycus.

There had never been any existential crises in my life. I had always known who I was, who my family was, what was expected of me, and how my future would go.

There was nothing to question.

Because there was no other life to live.

Now, though, everything I had known, thought I had wanted, was torn from me, leaving me unsure of who I was, what I might become, or what was expected of me.

I felt a heady mix of fear and uncertainty and excitement and hope.

And, perhaps above all, powerlessness.

But I wasn't powerless.

That thought was like an electric shock to my system, a jolt that buzzed through every nerve ending.

I wasn't powerless.

The demons didn't take me because they wanted to hurt my coven. They didn't seem to take me to hurt me either, to take pleasure in my pain.

No.

Judging by Ly's confirmation that I wouldn't be killed, the fact that no one had hurt me—unless their disregard counted—, the way they had come to take me back from the shifters, and then, of course, the collection of strange research in Ace's room, it all added up to something unexpected.