by K. A Knight
“I, erm, I’m Kelly,” she whispers, voice a bit stronger now.
“Hi, Kelly, how long have you been here?” The woman doesn’t respond, and I hear Dawn sigh. “I swear they won’t hurt you again, I swear it, Kelly. Look at me, that’s it. I know what it feels like to be seen as nothing, to be a punching bag. To be scared of your own shadow. They make you hate your own body, make you feel like it’s no longer yours, but it gets better. I promise you, you heal. You don’t forget, but you heal and come out stronger. This? This is a blip in your life, you are so much stronger than you will ever know. Look at you, surviving in the midst of such destruction. And you have another to think of now.”
“I—he—it,” Kelly stutters before lowering her face. “They-they raped me,” she cries out before getting a hold of herself. “It’s—this thing in me could be a monster.”
I stiffen at her admission. They forced their seed into this woman? I will spike them all!
“Look at me, Kelly. We both know human monsters can be so much worse. This baby in your belly, they might have made it, but you will raise it, it’s part of you, and trust me, sometimes the monsters are better than those who paint themselves as your saviours.”
“I’m tired,” Kelly admits. “So tired, I don’t think I can fight anymore. I thought when-when that thing came that I would die, but then I didn’t. But now I feel it, the baby, moving inside me, and now I don’t think I can do this.”
It goes quiet and I listen carefully, knowing this woman is on the precipice of giving up, I have seen it in soldiers often. Their will to go on gives out and they die.
“You will go on because you have to. It’s never easy to be a woman, Kelly,” Dawn starts, her voice strong and commanding, that of a true leader...a queen. “When men are born, they are told the world is theirs for the taking, to dream big and never give up. Us? We are told that the world isn’t fair, that our dreams might not come true and to be prepared for that. As I grew up, I was told to bite my tongue, because boys will be boys. I was told not to be too smart. Too loud. Too sexy. Too opinionated or rude. Well, fuck that.”
“I was told what I could be while men were told they could be anything. Even when I became an adult, I saw the injustice every day. The men I worked with, dated, they stood before me confused as I got angry, because they have never had to fight just to be heard in a room full of men. To be taken seriously. To have to walk home quickly, clutching your keys out of fear. To cry in the shower as blood runs from my body, because they made it their own. And it’s not mine anymore, and no matter how I dress or how I act I will never be good enough.
“I became an object, like you, since birth, raised to be perfect for men. But I never was, even when I was everything they dreamed of. They still hurt me, still pushed me around and treated me as lower than them. Just an object. Fuck that,” Dawn spits, her anger palpable.
“If you want to scream, do it. If you want to rage or run naked down the streets, do it. I will do it with you. If you want to get drunk and tell every man they are wrong and womansplain their asses, do it. If you want to murder the people that hurt you, want nothing more than to kill them. I’ll help. If you don’t want this baby, that’s fine. It’s your body, your choice. You are not just an object. You are a person. You are stronger than any man because you have faced battles they never could. We are women, and we are stronger than you will ever know.”
I suck in a breath, pride at my mate filling me.
“Kelly, it’s your life, I will set you free. But you need to be strong enough to take it, can you?” she finishes, and I hold my breath with her. Her speech makes me want to kill all men. Everyone who ever told her to be quiet, who hurt and used her. Who made her afraid.
Maybe this is why I am here.
To help her, because my mate is a fighter. A fighter for everyone who has ever been wronged. She will set it right. She sees the pain and the underdog and understands them, feels for them. Protects them.
Because she was one.
We are just along for the ride.
“I-I want to be free, I want to live,” Kelly whispers, then her voice gets stronger. “I want to live!” she yells and then laughs, it sounds choked though. “Even if this baby is a monster, it’s mine. But first, how do we get out?”
“Hold on.” Dawn goes quiet then sighs. “My friend is coming, he can get you out, okay? I need you to trust me, he is a man, a bit surly, but I promise you he will never hurt you. He won’t even touch you, Kelly. Can you do that? You are your own hero here.”
“I can, I can do this,” she repeats, and then I hear them shuffling. Dawn appears in the door and I just stare at her.
I am beyond lost for words. I do not know how I got so lucky as to be a mate to such an amazing, strong, confident, and smart woman, but I will pray that I am enough to stay by her side. Because I want to be, I want to see where this world takes her, because for someone so strong, so fate touched, things are going to happen.
She must hear my thoughts, a side effect of her understanding the bonds she has weaved I would guess, because a smile covers her face. “You will always be by my side. Griffin is coming, but then he has to get back to work. We better go before he arrives and tries to kill you. I need to get to my minotaur.”
“He could try.” I shrug and she grins.
“You’re hot when you’re cocky.” She looks at the wolf then. “Stay and protect her? You can find me again, right?”
The wolf whines but nods and sits, looking at the woman whose hand is on her curved belly as she watches the wolf in confusion. Dawn turns to her and takes her hand. “Good luck. If you need anything, find a woman called Victoria, or Victor.” She reels off an address and the woman mumbles it back before tears fill her eyes.
“Stupid hormones, thank you,” she tells Dawn and takes her hand. “Thank you so much.”
“Give them hell.” Dawn winks and then takes my hand and leads us away. I glance back to see the woman staring after Dawn with a wondrous look in her eyes. Glancing down at my mate, I smile. She has that effect on people, she drives them to want to be more, to never give up even in the darkest of times. Because she is right there with you.
As are we. The monsters gathered behind her in the dark—horns, fangs, and wings hers to command. We will raze this world and rebuild it in her image. She doesn’t even realise it as she walks along next to me, but she is starting something here. Something that will change the world, that will change the fate of our people.
All because of one skinwalker.
Exiting the dragon’s car, I take in a deep breath of fresh air. It has been so long since I have been free, and now I have the world at my feet. I will find the woman who called to me, I will chain her by my side, and we will walk through this world together, my fire trailing in my wake. Chaos, war, and death blooming under my hooves.
She will want for nothing, she will be my very own pet.
Unlike the prideful dragon still arguing on the phone, I know the truth. Love isn’t real, it’s what humans and supernaturals tell each other to try and make sense in this world, to find someone to ride it out with. So when the darkness gets to be too much, they have something, someone to turn to. True love, mates, it’s all a game by the fates, a cruel one. Someone will always end up hurt, betrayed, and left—love isn’t real. But lust?
Oh yes, lust is real, and I am very much aware of that.
My little pet will be as well, she will worship at my feet, mine to do with whatever I want. And when I grow bored with her, I might let her free if she has been good.
I met a fate once, a vile woman she was. She possessed a human I was about to kill in a battlefield. Blood had sprayed us from all angles, the cries of the damned rising amongst the field as the war cry came from both sides. And there we had stood in the midst of it all, her soulless eyes locking on me as she dropped her weapon.
Those eyes, they saw everything. In them was the whole universe, the working and turnings of it, a constant stream of past
, present, and possible futures.
She had told me, informed me, that one day I would be tested. That when the pull of life outweighed that of death, I had a choice to make. To save this wretched world or burn in it.
I had laughed in her face. I would always choose death, it is what I am.
She had looked at me sadly.
“Then you will all burn. Choose death out of fear, Serpent. Choose it because you dread the very depths of your soul and what you are capable of when faced with the entity of life and change and you doom them all. Humans and supernaturals alike. You alone can turn the tide. Choose wisely.”
She gasped and dropped to her knees as the warrior returned. Her silver armour stained red with hers and others’ blood, her sword on the ground beside her. Her brown hair was tied back into a plait at her side, her face wild and covered in dirt and blood. Those eyes had locked on mine, tears misting in them as she looked upon me and saw the truth.
In me she saw her death.
I picked up my sword and I took the life like I always do. As I turned and walked away, something bloomed in me. A thread of doubt...burn, she said.
Why would I not choose that?
A slamming of the door brings me back and I shake off the memory, turning to the dragon. “Ready?”
He nods, his chin high in the air. “How does this hop—”
Without letting him question me, I wrap my power around him and tear a hole through space and time and drop us out at the other end. My mist still swirls around us as I laugh. He groans, gagging as he bends forward. “Snake,” he hisses. “Warn me next time.”
“Fine, we have four more hops,” I drawl, bored.
“Four?” he roars as I do it again.
He falls to his knees this time, his eyes pinched in pain. “Four?” he repeats, eyes glassy as he glares at me.
“Yes, I cannot travel around this world in one, not with you in tow, it would drain me too much.” I shrug and hop us again.
He snarls this time and gets to his feet when we land and throws himself at me. Laughing, I hop us that last time, throwing him backwards. He lands on his back on the soil near the council’s mansion. Groaning, he lies there limply as I stroll over, sucking the mist back in until I am a man once again. He stares up at me.
“Tell me, do the great dragons struggle with riding time?” I taunt.
“Demon,” he grumbles, and tries to get to his feet, only to fall on his face. Groaning, he gets to his knees, panting, and waits. Rolling my eyes, I offer him my hand.
“Come, dragon, we have your mate to save, do we not?”
At that he lurches to his feet, his eyes ablaze with purpose and love. Spinning, he turns to take in the mansion from where we stand on the hill next to it. I turn with him, taking it in. “She’s in there,” he whispers.
“I would hope so, or otherwise this trip was for nothing. Come, let us go kill some beings, it’s time they are reminded who is really in charge.”
After rescuing the human female, I quickly fly her beyond the council’s reach before leaving her at a rest stop. I daren’t fly too far in case they notice my absence. That wouldn’t work well, they would punish me, and I need to be invisible to investigate who we can kill and who we can trust. I still don’t know what Titus is doing, but I know for sure we can’t trust Amos. That leaves Derrin and Greta.
I follow her first, making sure to stay out of her deadly, icy grasp.
The only reason she doesn’t notice me is because she believes I am beneath her. She struts around the mansion in her flowing white gown, never once checking to see if her nephilim guards, or slaves as she calls them, are who they say they are. She trusts in her power, and in the power of the council, that we will be there to protect her from any threat. Her eyes do not even graze across us.
The icy tendrils of her power pass over us, making us shiver as she enters the breakfast room, which is the size of a house. She sits at the head of the table, sipping on champagne and staring out of the window until her voice suddenly barks out, “Slave.”
I spot the nephilim in the corner cringe slightly before he straightens and heads over, getting to his knees beside her and bowing his head. Her hand reaches out and she pets him like a dog. I feel anger on his behalf flowing through me, but I stay pressed to the door like a good little slave.
Not yet, I will not compromise my mate’s mission over one nephilim who hates me.
She carries on stroking him, sipping her champagne before leaning back in her throne-like, wingback chair and finally looking at him. She grabs his chin and lifts his head, staring at his face the same way you would cattle. “Not bad looking, have I had you before?”
“Yes, my lady,” he replies.
Her lips tilt up at that. “Good. Under the table, slave. Show me why I shouldn’t kill you here and now for meeting my eyes.”
He stills for a moment before ripping up the tablecloth and slipping under the wood. A moment later she groans, her eyes closing in bliss, her other hand dropping her champagne glass, which causes another nephilim to dash forward and catch it, placing it on the table beyond her reach as slurping, wet noises sound.
Cringing, I slip from the room. No fucking way am I going to stand there watching her get head. Christ, she even made that seem cold. Not like my mate who is all fire, all passion. When she wants, needs, she takes it, but oh fuck, it’s so good.
Shaking my head, I decide to try Derrin instead. The incubus tends to rise late, so he should just be waking after his orgies last night, or feeding fest, as the nephilims call it. They wait until morning to dispose of the bodies he drains dry. I’ve heard them speak of it often, how many sheep he goes through.
I hate sheep, especially the small ones, but he tosses their lives around without thought. Like they are nothing. Maybe I always thought that previously, but my mate was once human, so I can’t hate them too much.
They might be destructive, self-serving creatures with a short lifespan, but they are more like us than we want to admit.
I head to Derrin’s chambers on the top floor. The doors to his wing are open, so I slide through them, moving into the dark space that smells of blood, sex, and death. I pass his sitting room and kitchen and other rooms until I find his bedchamber. The doors are open and the scent is stronger here.
Some candles are burning, illuminating the area which is covered in satin and silky materials, red and gold everywhere. It looks like an old, French tart’s boudoir I saw in a film once.
And there is Derrin, positioned in the middle of the double king-sized bed, with silk draped across his thighs, his arm over his face. His body is naked and covered in...well, fuck, I don’t even want to know. Next to him are five women, all spread across the bed. Some face down, some on their backs.
All dead.
All naked.
Derrin’s eyes open and he locks his gaze on me. Grinning, he slips from the bed, unashamed of his nakedness as he heads to a bar in the corner and pours himself a drink. “On body duty, fallen?” he asks, his voice infused with the power he drained from those sheep.
He tosses his drink back and looks over at me. “Get to it then, can’t have their bodies rotting and stinking up the place.”
I spare a glance at the sheep. Fuck, now I’m on body removal? This job sucks, no wonder so many sheep kill their bosses. “Of course,” I snap, adding some venom to my voice to make it seem like I’m ordered to be here, not snooping.
I head to the bed, but he stops me. “Fallen?”
“Yes?” I snarl, turning to him and giving him my best pissed off expression, which is my normal face, so it isn’t too hard.
“I have a question,” he starts, so I wait silently, not replying. He grins, pours himself a drink, and leans back against the bar, watching me. “You see a lot, hear a lot no doubt, any clues on what has Amos so…riled up?” he queries, sipping the clear liquid.
Huh, he doesn’t know? My face must say it, because he rolls his eyes.
“No one tru
sts an incubus, and though people deal secrets for sex, I can’t seem to find out, but there is something happening. I can feel it, I’m not stupid. I want to know what so I know where I need to stand.”
Well, that crossed this idiot off our list. He’s more bothered about getting his dick wet than what’s happening right under his nose.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “They don’t tell me anything.”
“But you must suspect something,” he snarls, pushing away and stalking towards me. He trails his hands across my chest, a tingling power following. Is he trying to seduce me? What the fuck?
He stops behind me and leans closer, pressing his body against my back as I fight the urge to fling him across the room. Asshole, using his powers to get what he wants. The worst bit is, the power is shooting straight to my cock even though I don’t do men and I really don’t want him to touch me. I try to pull away, but I can’t, he has me locked in place even as I try to fight his control, my body revolting at his touch and his ability to make me want him. Taking what I’m not offering.
His hand traces lower, gripping my hard length through my trousers and flinging more power into it until I’m gasping, nearly spilling in my jeans.
“Tell me, fallen, and I will make all your dreams come true. I will suck your dick better than any woman, I will give you the best sex of your life,” he purrs against my ear, licking the shell. Bile rises in my throat. Is this all we are to them?
Puppets to control? To order, to use, even when we don’t want it?
If so, how are we any better than the sheep lying dead in his bed?
“Stop,” I demand, even as the madness swirls in my head, trying to protect me from what’s happening, wanting to lash out. To get his hands off me, his mouth away from my body. Even without having a mate, I wouldn’t want him to touch me, but now, with Dawn in my life? Every touch that isn’t hers is actually painful, sending a shot of wrongness through me.
It meets his power which is still swirling through me, the pain and the pleasure almost sending me to my knees. I hate his hand, I hate the fact that my cock is reacting to his power, and I hate it even though I know it’s what he is.