Gypsy Freak (Page 32)

I’m breathing heavily, grappling for him to be closer, when another chunk of the wall falls with a loud crash. It hits the floor as chains clang, and then his other hand grabs my other hip.

His eyes are so light blue now that they’re almost white, as he tears the necklace away from me. Pin pricks of pupils are there, and I suck in a breath, feeling a taste of familiarity in this moment.

It’s pure abandon.

This is his monster.

Or at least, it’s almost his monster.

And he now knows he has me.

Uh-oh. I followed all the rules…

On his next thrust, my body is hit with a shock of ecstasy like I’ve never felt before. It steals my breath and electrifies my veins, setting off an orgasm that is almost painfully sinful.

The one after that sends me toppling over an edge so steep that I feel like I’m falling before shattering into oblivion, garbled sounds escaping me in ways that I don’t even find embarrassing right now.

His third thrust shatters me all over again, and I gasp for air, clawing at him to get closer, wanting to—

His own sound echoes through my ears as his hips jolt against mine. There’s just a bite of pain inside me that is quickly soothed with warmth, as I’m shoved up on the bed. Damien continues making that tortured sound of guilty pleasure.

I can’t take my eyes off his face—distorted in sweet agony.

His pupils start to dilate, and they quickly return to normal, even as he rolls his hips again.

It’s when I feel what is slick and all over my thighs as he shoves forward again, eyes still fixed to mine, that I realize what’s just happened.

I didn’t die.

I didn’t feel that pain he told me I would.

And I’m living…as he continues to…release himself inside me.

His breath shudders out of him, as he reaches up and cups my face, thumb brushing over my lips.

“You didn’t stop me,” he says like it’s an almost breathless accusation, eyes going a little hard. “You’re…alive,” he adds on a sharp whisper, as he continues to stare at me with what is almost an angry expression.

I kiss him so he stops frowning at me and ruining this moment by thinking too hard. I really fucked up, but he swore there’d be pain.

“You didn’t break,” he goes on, interrupting the kiss as he rolls his hips one last time, dragging his lips up to my ear as he pulls me to him.

“You can’t tell anyone,” I say to him, a bit of worry inching up in my spine as he slowly nods, hiding his face. “I can’t die,” I add on a whisper, feeling so stupid about having this conversation right now.

He lifts up, a lazy grin tugging at his lips, the angry expression gone as the air starts to dissipate with all the heady…whatever it is he exudes.

It’s almost like a cold shock to the system when it stops, leaving gradually one second…until it abruptly fades out all at once.

Damien falls to his side, and I dart to my knees when his eyes roll back in his head.

“Damien!” I say, panicking a little when he just stays limp.

My heart pounds in my chest, warning me to calm down.

I drop my head to his chest, listening, and manage to hear the faintest of heartbeats. The only thing that even gives me a little pause is the fact they make his heartbeat sound optional.

But if it’s beating at all, that means he’s okay, right?

Fuck, I don’t know how to check the vital signs of monsters.

I feel around on his neck for a pulse, since based on my experience, I’m certain the one in the wrist is just a myth.

The next thing I do is run to grab my phone, but when I dial Vance’s number, the line never rings through. “Damn fucking ghosts in this town,” I say on a frustrated, slightly freaked out breath.

What if by me not dying he dies?

The weird part about all this is the very creepy grin frozen on his face, like he’s happy to finally be dying.

I turn and grab a white robe that’s hanging on his door, and run to poke my head through the door. Thankfully, everyone knows who Damien is tonight, so it’s not hard to find someone willing to do his bidding when the smell of him is most definitely all over me.

Chapter 20

VANCE

“How did this happen?” I ask Arion, who shrugs an unconcerned shoulder while he plays with his phone.

“I certainly didn’t do it,” he tells me, gesturing to the ten dead wolves shot up with silver on his property. “Violet’s birthday party going well?”

“So help me, Arion, if you fucking killed a bunch of wolves as a petty tantrum for not being invited—”

“Oh, please. I’m hardly worried about missing a party. As I said, Violet is easily charmed. However, if you don’t—”

“How did the fucking wolves die, Arion? When Emit gets here—”

“We’ve lived for far too long for him to think this was me,” he says, gesturing around again. “You know this wasn’t me.”

“But was it your people?” I ask seriously.

“I don’t know,” he says as he continues fucking with his phone like a distracted adolescent. “Where do you think she keeps those oranges? I’ve yet to figure that out, and I gave you my only one. Don’t you owe me a favor?”

“I passed it off to Damien, so no, I’m not making this mess disappear. It’d be too much of a favor for a bloody orange anyway.”

I run a frustrated hand through my hair. Emit is going to lose his shit.

My gaze cuts to one wolf, absently glancing over the small thing, and my eyes close as I exhale harshly. “Shit.”

“What?” Arion asks in a bored tone as I kneel closer to the small, lifeless wolf.

“This is Fay.”

“Fay? Who the hell is Fay?”

“She’s supposed to be in Vegas. Emit sent all his omegas away since they were getting antsy with all the tension in the air,” I quietly explain.

I quickly look over the other wolves, not recognizing them, and hoping none of the others are here.

“As in the omegas Shera said Violet has taken up with?” he asks, putting that phone away like he’s suddenly interested.

I run a hand over my jaw and fire off another quick text to Damien. She just lost her mother, then Anna, and now Fay. How much can one girl handle before she finally breaks?

“If vampires did this, they wouldn’t have picked some lowly omega Emit screws on occasion. The omegas are considered the sluts of the pack; not targets,” he states.

“Or they just didn’t care which wolves they killed, so long as it sent a message that a war was coming,” I go on. “Perhaps your betas are acting up again.”

“My betas don’t kill wolves,” he says on a snarl. “They know I’ll handle it if necessary, and then you hypocrites will punish—”

A howl in the distance ends the regurgitated argument, and he huffs out a breath. “He’s so sensitive about wolves dying, so this isn’t going to be fun,” Arion states like he’s already exasperated. “I was in the middle of playing with my pencils.”

“I don’t even want to know what that means,” I tell him as I head to cut off Emit.

I don’t get the chance, because he bursts out of the forest just in front of us, skidding to a halt as he snarls and growls, his eyes swinging to Arion and turning into lethal slits.

“I didn’t do it. It wasn’t me,” Arion states flatly, smiling bitterly.

Emit’s eyes land on Fay and swing up to meet mine. Arion, for all his psychotic faults, certainly wouldn’t have risked killing one wolf that Violet cares for. Not while he’s striving for one of his insane goals.

Emit shifts, quickly turning to flesh, still kneeling over Fay’s limp body as he lifts it carefully, his jaw grinding.

“Are any of the others—”

“They’re Fay’s second pack,” Emit says, shaking his head in interruption to the question I was going to ask. “She’s been running with some other omegas who’ve been with some of the head betas.”

“They’re all omega wolves? Even the larger ones?” Arion asks, as Emit remains eerily calm.

He gently puts Fay’s body down, and he glances back over the rest of the dead, keeping a stoic expression. “They all have different omega minor packs, like Fay. Aside from her, they all live with different powerful betas, yet run together to bring the betas closer when they drift apart. Betas, after all, have one important instinct—protect the weak. Whoever killed them wanted massive impact.”

“Who the hell keeps up with what omegas do or don’t mean anything to the betas they’re leeching off?” Arion asks, receiving a growl from Emit.

“If they’re all omegas, these wolves were defenseless, and someone still shot them. Whoever did this left no scent, left no trace of evidence, and has made it hard for me to hunt them,” I cut in, stopping them before they start arguing. “Guess I’ll get to work, then. Could take me a few days to hunt them down.”

“Emit can tell Violet about Fay,” Arion decides, and I think we’re both surprised when Emit doesn’t argue. “I’ll start getting to know my new betas that have been cultivated over this past century and find out if any of them are pathetic enough to go after a small pack of harmless, female wolves.”