“Don’t ever touch me again.” I seethe, “Stay away from me, bitch. I'm looking at a life sentence in these walls; another murder charge won't change that, so step the off!” I snarl at her loud enough for her little harem to hear me before shoving her back against the wall.
As soon as I let go, she screams and crawls away. I turn to the room and see everyone staring at me in shock and disgust. Needing to get far away from this room, my feet are running before I even tell them to. Danger to the world, I knew coming out tonight was a bad idea. I have no idea where I'm going.
Out of nowhere, a memory flash hits me like a brick wall.
I’m alone in my room as always. It's my birthday and all I want is to make a wish and blow out the candles. I make a flame flicker on each one of my fingertips. I wish for a home so full of love I go to bed every night with a smile on my face, blowing out one finger. For a garden, so full of flowers I can pick some every day, another flame is blown out, and for a life far away from Father. Then, I wish for Marcus to never be hurt again. Heroes like Marcus should never be sad. For my last wish, I wish for a best friend who would always be there to laugh with. Father bursts in, startling me. Backing myself into the corner, I forget about my wishes and the flames on my hands, the drapes ignite immediately.
“I will teach you to disobey me!”
The back of his hand connects with the side of my face, throwing me across the small dark room. I curl into myself, trying to block the kick I know is coming. It’s no use; I am too small, too weak. After Father leaves, Marcus finds me broken and bleeding, and once again picks me up and takes care of my injuries. I watch him wipe the blood off my pale skin with a cloth in his shaky hands, eyes glossy with unshed tears and his lips pressed together so hard it must hurt. He looks so angry and sad.
“I’m sorry, Marcus. I wanted to make a wish.”
He pulls me into a fierce, strong hug, “You did nothing wrong,” he says, kissing the top of my head as I wrap myself around him, crying.
“Happy Birthday, Phee,” he whispers, his voice thick with tears.
Crying and disorientated, I burst out into the courtyard. Why did my father hate me so much? I must pull myself together; there is no big brother to swoop in and save me, I am on my own here. Why did I think these people would treat me any different?
The alcohol is turning in my stomach; I need to get home before I throw up. Walking toward one of the lighted doorways that lead back into the Academy, causes me to stop. Looking around, I have no idea how to get to my new dorm room from here, “Crap.” Surveying in a circle for anything familiar, I have no clue which way to go. Six hours on campus, and I am completely lost.
“Hey!” someone calls out behind me. Procedure has been drilled into me since day one out of solitary, causes me to do what is expected of me. Guards are the authority here, well except Mason. Raising my hands above my head, I state, “It's my first night in the dorms, and I went out for some air and got lost.”
When no reply is spoken, I turn and see Asher standing in front of me; he looks the same as the last time I saw him, handsome and strong.
He nods at me with a smirk on his face, “Well hello, beautiful. Lost huh? Why is it every time I see you, you’re lost?” he asks.
His eyes rake over my body, my tattooed wrists still bare, hard to miss. I try to cover them, crossing my arms under my boobs, drawing his eyes there instead; I roll my eyes. I have no idea how to interact with guys, especially one who is irritatingly sexy.
Embarrassed, I drop my arms. The way he looks at me sends heat shooting through my cold body. Laughing a desperately nervous laugh, I try to avoid eye contact, and think of some excuse as to why I'm out here alone.
“Yeah, I needed some air and got turned around. Just point me in the right direction, and I’m sure I can find my way home,” I state, taking in his appearance. Even in casual clothes, he oozes dominance and power. He is so big, at least a foot taller than me. Lean muscles run up his arms and disappear under his tight sleeves. A shudder runs through my body as I lick my lips. Damn he is so sexy. Short cropped dark hair and dark eyes, blue maybe, but in this light, they appear black, limitless and feral. An incredibly sexy smirk dominates his handsome face when he catches me ogling him.
Looking at him sets alarms off in my body; I feel alive. Wanting to lock eyes with him, but blush and look away the moment our eyes meet. He steps closer, reaching his hand out; taking mine, he starts walking, pulling me behind him. His hand is warm and rough. The buzz of the world grows quiet like the last time he touched me. People don't usually touch me. The contact feels nice.
Slightly lightheaded, I stumble into his back when he stops walking. Not bothering to move I stay there and breathe him in for a minute. His whole body goes ridged. Then I feel him turn. I don’t look up at him; instead, leaning into him, I wrap my arms around his solid body. He smells so good and he is so warm, I must be drunker than I thought.
He curls his arms around me; his lips touch the top of my head. We just stand their holding onto each other, and for a moment, the whole miserable world falls away, all too soon I step back, wiping at my eyes and shaking my head. Why am I so emotional? Why does his touch make me feel so safe?
“Um, sorry, it’s been a rough night, thanks,” I slur.
He looks down at me smiling. “Are you drunk?”
I gasp and cover my mouth, I am drunk. “I am. I mean… I didn't mean to, but the punch was spiked and I guess I shouldn't have drunk it at all, especially not so fast, but I didn’t know it was spiked, and then those bitches jumped me and I had to get the out of there.”
He interrupts, “Whoa, slow down, what punch? What girls? And who the jumped you?” he asks, folding his arms over his chest again. Sigh... He is so hot, I wonder if he’d notice if I licked his tattoo.
“I went to that stupid meet and greet thing, which I knew would be a huge mistake by the way, but of course, I went anyways cause I’m such an idiot. Then this bitch and her harem of whores pulled my coat off to show everyone my tattoos and told me to go kill myself. I mean, who does that, right? And when she got all up in my face, I pushed back, and everyone was looking at me like I’m the freak! What was I supposed to do… just let her push me around?” I spew this entire rant out in a matter of seconds in all my drunken glory, complete with wild flailing hand gestures.
He just stares at me smiling.
“What are you staring at?” I yell at him. I'm so tired of people staring at me. “You don't pick a fight you can't win, and that bitch seriously thought she could intimidate me!” I affirm, and then immediately cover my mouth.
For the first time, I realize I am using my crimes as armor. Feeling strong felt good but there is this small voice in my head telling me to be ashamed of my behavior and to remember the lives I took.
“It gets easier, you know,” he stresses, holding up one wrist. I can see he has a pyro symbol branded on his arm, meaning he has been charged with a violent act of power, not a murder charge like mine, but still serious.
“This place isn't so bad, a lot better than life off this island. We all freak out occasionally, and you have more reason than most. Hey, wanna come to a let off some steam?” he asks with one sexy eyebrow raised.
“I was just at that party, and it sucked ass, so, no thanks,” I reply. I have no interest in another throw down.
He laughs at that. “Not that kind of party. I meeting some of the trainees, you interested?” My only reply is shaking my head, trainees, no way.
“I guarantee no one will pick a fight with you. Most of them have been branded, like us, anyway.” He shrugs, pulling a flask out of his pocket, taking a drink before holding it out for me. “Seems like blowing off some steam is exactly what you need.” He stops mid-reach, pulling the flask back and inquires with a smile, “Wait, how old are you?”
“Old enough to kick your ass,” I say, taking the flask from his hand and slam it back. After the initial burning subsides, I close my eyes and let the numbnes
s envelope me. It feels amazing not to think for once. I take one more drink before handing it back. I shrug, not wanting to go back to an empty room. “Lead the way, handsome,” I say.
His smile is wide as his hand touches the small of my back, leading me inside one of the tower rooms. He backs me into the corner by the stairs, watching me. He makes me crazy.
Brushing my hair off my shoulder, grazing my exposed skin, he asks, “Who were you assigned as a mentor?”
“Um… Mason, he’s been my mentor since I arrived.” Stammering, how can I focus on anything with him touching me like this?
His fingers brush the back of my neck, over my shoulder, to the small of my back. Brushing his thumb just under the hem of my shirt, his skin burning mine, making me desperate for more. He is saying something to me, but I can't focus on his words. The alcohol is working its magic. I love the sound of his deep, rough voice.
“Babe,” he says tilting my chin up, capturing my lips, burning away everything in the world except him. I am lost in the moment, holding onto him as he takes my first kiss. My only response is to moan and lean further into him.
Pulling apart, he kisses me once more, “You’re fun when you’re drunk.” wiggling his eyebrows.
“Ugh, jerk!” I laugh before he links our hands and we continue through the maze of stairs and hallways leading to the top floor.
I can feel the music’s thumping beat in my chest before we walk into another room dimly lit with about thirty or so people all sitting around talking, drinking, smoking, and some playing poker. Mason is standing across the room, holding a beer; he looks pissed. The room goes quiet around me as I engage in this bizarre connection we have.
“Nyx, this is everyone; everyone, this is Nyx. Seems she can't play with the children downstairs without trying to kill one of them, so I invited her up,” he states, snapping me out of my trance.
Waiting for some kind of backlash because I am younger than everyone here, I cringe; will it be a repeat of the last party? Everyone just laughs it off and continues whatever they were doing before we arrived, greeting us with smiles. I'm introduced to so many people, but the buzz I'm currently rocking ensures I will forget their names instantly. Most of them are students, trainers, some are the Titan Elite trainees I’ve heard so much about, and some are off-duty guards.
The guards make me nervous at first, but they seem to be very off-duty and not interested in busting me for underage drinking. The guys are all huge and hot, with easy smiles. Asher hands me a drink and we stand with a few of his friends. They don’t know who I am or don’t care, either way I’m glad, they don't ask stupid questions. Instead, they ask me about the next batch of prospects and who has the strongest abilities, and the nicest tits. Since it’s my first day I don't have much information for them. My drink is sweet and strong; the beautiful fog in my head grows.
Asher’s hands grip my hips, pulling my back flush with his front, “Dance with me,” pulling me onto the makeshift dance floor. The music moves through me and I lean into his touch, wrapping my arms around his neck. Craving his touch, we sway to the music while his hands roam over my body.
Strong hands pull me out of Asher's grip, I stumble into Mason’s hard chest, “Whoa, Mase-man," patting his arm, laughing at my new nickname for him but when I look up he does not appear happy.
“What are you doing here, Nyx? Why’s this guy’s hands you?” He's pissed and glaring daggers at Asher.
Struggling to pull my arm out of his grip is futile, his fingers dig deeper. “Ow, Mason, you’re hurting me.” Asher steps between us, pulling me away from Mason.
“Take your hands off, Mason. She isn't your property,” he asserts with a cocky smile, winking at me over his shoulder. Which causes me to giggle, damn, I’m so much drunker than I thought, wait, “Is drunker a word?” Did I just say that out loud?
Mason doesn't answer me, “She's just a kid, Blaze. Leave her alone.” Then turns to me, “You’re drunk and you don't even know this guy.” Brushing a curl behind my ear, “Come on, I'll walk you home.”
He reaches out to me, but Asher won't allow it. I don’t want Mason to go away, but I'm too drunk to deal with them arguing.
“I think I know her better than you ever will, Mason. Walk away, man. I'm the one who is supposed to be protecting her, not you.”
Asher turns around and presses his lips to mine, demanding and hot. I let him devour me. Breaking away with his eyes still locked on me, he calls over his shoulder, “See, she knows who she wants.” Mason gives up and walks away, shaking his head, but he doesn't leave, he stands across the room, watching.
Asher picks me up and takes me to the dance floor, spinning me, until I get dizzy. We laugh and dance, it is the single most amazing night of my entire existence, and I never want it to end. They are just like me, damaged and slightly broken. Trapped on this island of misfits, not accepted in the normal world, but here we can live and be ourselves. In these strangers’ company and in the welcoming arms of Asher Blaze, I feel more myself than ever before.
“Come with me,” Asher whispers in my ear, setting my body aglow. I let him pull me up the stairs to the roof. The cool night air feels amazing on my overheated skin, resting my hands on the railing. The gardens look amazing from up here. Before I finish the thought, his hands are on me, setting my body ablaze. Asher is the first guy I have ever kissed; I have no idea what I'm doing. Just that I want more, more of him.
His hands slide under my skirt. I gasp when a finger brushes over my sex. I pull back and peek up at him. His eyes are dark and full of wanting; he wants me. I can feel it in every inch of his body, and it feels amazing to be worshiped like this. I want more.
“Shirt off,” I demand breathlessly, aching to touch him. He pulls it off, revealing his hard body, my knees go weak looking at him, damn, he is so sexy.
My hands explore his chest, down over each muscle rippling on his stomach, wishing it was my tongue trailing each ridge of his torso. I bite my bottom lip as I continue exploring his body. He stands there, eyes closed, head tilted back, absorbing my touch like a drug. When my hands reach his belt, he grabs them, stopping me. Wrapping them around his neck, he kisses me long and hard.
His hand moves between my thighs again, but this time I am ready and waiting. He slides one finger over my clit and I almost explode instantly.
“Oh yes,” groaning, I press myself into his hand. Something is building in me; the pressure feels dangerous and out of control. I am trying so hard to hold it back,
“Let go, Nyx, you won't hurt me. Just let go,” he growls as we ravage each other.
I let the walls drop as flames dance over my body, power radiating off me in waves. Asher groans and his power entwines with mine. This is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, pure, raw power. The mix of alcohol, orgasm coursing through my veins, I feel like I'm flying. My whole body is shaking as I cling to his warm body.
“That was incredible,” I say, breaking the silence.
He chuckles, shaking his head before leaning down and kissing me, sweetly and deeply. Stepping away from me to pick up his shirt, handing it to me with a smile, he kisses me gently on the lips once more. At this point I realize I am now naked, my orgasm must have caused my clothes to burn off my body, how embarrassing. Pulling his shirt over my head quickly, covering my nakedness, I can’t seem to force my eyes back to his. What happens now?
“You okay?”
“I think so, that was… I mean, I've never done anything like that. Your power mixing with mine, it was...” I have no idea how to put it into words.
He chuckles, “It was hot...literally.”
I smack him on the chest. “Oh, my God!” I laugh as I stumble on my feet a bit, feeling drained. “I think those drinks just hit me,” I admit slightly slurred.
Asher curls his arm around my back, supporting me. “I'll make sure you make it home safely,” he whispers in my ear.
When I open my eyes it’s morning, I’m in my own bed, “Oh god,” a
killer hangover and no memory of how I got home, I roll over and cover my head with my pillow. Reluctantly, dragging my ass out of bed, I start getting ready for class. Most of the time is spent daydreaming about my night with Asher, and wondering if he will talk to me today or was I just some girl he hooked up with. Ugh, how is it possible to feel this way about him, and I've only just met him.
Ianna and I cross the courtyard gardens heading to the dining hall for breakfast. My eyes scan everywhere for him. Will I see him today? Will we have any classes together?
“So…” she asks.
“So what?”
“Seriously? Are we going to pretend a hot guy didn’t carry you home last night wearing only his shirt?”
“Oh that! I was out with Asher last night.”
“You didn’t have sex with him, did you?”
“What? Why”
“Lord have mercy; tell me you didn’t fall for that boy’s sweet talk.”
“Sweet talk? No, I mean, why would it be such a bad thing if I did?”
“You barely know him for one.”
“Well yeah, I’m getting to know him better.”
“Naked? Nyx, sex is supposed to be special, between two people who love each other.”
“Okay, mom. Like you wouldn’t bump uglies with Kai if the opportunity presented itself.”
“I would not, you ho! Not until we get to know each other better.”
“Huh,” Looks like I learned something new about myself. Turns out, I’m kind of a slut.
While we stand in line, I try really hard not to freak out over every detail of last night. When warm arms circle my waist, pulling me back into a warm chest. Lips grazing my ear causes me to moan. Ianna is looking at me like I have sprouted two heads.
“Good morning, beautiful. I have been looking for you,” I can feel his voice rumble through his chest, sending tingles down my body.
I smile up at him, turning in his arms. He leans down, brushing his lips over mine twice before kissing me softly. I turn back to find Ianna is wide eyed, staring at us.
Phoenyx Rising (Demigods Duet Book 1) Page 5