Bael towered behind me, forcing his presence deeper into me.
“Your father resisted, he fought me and managed to barely survive” Bael whispered, breath hot and rotten against my ear. “He defied me. But you? You will not. You are untested. You are not ready to fight me”
Pain shot through my chest. I cried out, but I still couldn’t hear it. My voice didn’t exist here. I clawed at my throat. Still nothing. The sigil seared bright, the skin blistering as if pressed to iron. My body convulsed. The corridor flickered and twisted, walls melting into shadows. I saw him now, no longer smoke, but rotting flesh. His skin glistened black, his teeth glinting as he smiled. His eyes were hollow pits that bled light. He reached for me.
I forced my lips to part. A sound slipped out. Just one small, broken word. “No.”
The space around me stuttered. The walls rippled. I said it again, louder. “No.”
Bael’s grin stretched wider. “You think the light in you will stop me? You think that mark will save you?”
He lunged. His hands slammed into my chest, cold seeping through every pore, and I felt something tear inside me. The sigil on my skin burst with heat, burning white-hot. Light exploded behind my eyes. The pain was unbearable, but it pushed him back.
His scream was pure rage, high and jagged. The corridor shook from its power. “You cannot stop me forever, witch!”
He lunged toward me and I snapped awake.
My lungs expanded all at once, hard and painful, dragging in a gasp so sharp it felt like I’d inhaled fire. My body jerked upright on the bed, sweat slicking my skin, my hands trembling uncontrollably.
I couldn’t move at first. Couldn’t speak. I could only stare, searching the room around me. The space was quiet again, it was real, but it still didn’t feel safe. The air still tasted like smoke. The scent of sulfur lingered.
Hellsing lay asleep beside me, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. His hair was messy, his arm thrown over his head, the lines of his muscles sharp in the faint early light. The sight of him made my throat tighten. I wanted to reach for him, to shake him awake, to tell him what I’d seen. But my body still wouldn’t move. My muscles felt locked in place.
I stared at him like he was the only thing tethering me to this world. Inside my mind, the words came out strong.
Wake up, Hellsing. Save me.
But my lips never moved. I managed to lean in closer, desperate, shaking, praying he would feel me. I forced my hand to rise above his chest, inches from touching his skin.
Still, he slept so peacefully. Completely unaware of what I was going throug.
I swallowed hard, every breath shaky. My body still felt trapped between two worlds, one foot in this room, the other still lingering in that corridor with Bael’s voice echoing down the walls.
“Hellsing,” I whispered across the space that separated us, the sound brittle, barely there. “Wake up.”
He didn’t stir.
My pulse thundered painfully in my ears.
Because now I knew the truth. No spell would be enough. And the bond between us…It was exactly what Bael was trying to break or use to get what he wanted.
And I wasn’t sure if my love would be able to save us both.
HELLSING
Iwoke up to heat. Weight pressed down on my hips. A sharp drag of nails against my chest. My eyes opened and there she was.
Grace was straddling me, looking like a wild goddess.
Her thighs pinned my hips as her palms dug into my shoulders. Sweat beaded on her forehead and upper lip. Her hair hung around her face, damp pieces matting to her forehead. Her eyes did not look like my Grace’s eyes. They were too wide, too bright, with a hard edge that cut through the dim room.
My body responded before my brain could keep up and my muscles locked. Every nerve lit up as my cock stretched even longer inside of her. She moaned and moved against me in a steady, ruthless rhythm, using my body like a thing she owned. My eyes fell on her pretty tits, bouncing in rhythm as she used my cock. I felt the pressure, the friction, the buildup of need, and my heart hammered against my ribs with a mix of lust and a feeling that did not belong in this bed.
Fear.
“Grace,” I rasped.
She did not slow down. Her lips curled in a smile that had no softness. Her hands slid up my chest, fingers pressing into oldscars, creating new bruises. Her nails dragged over the ink on my skin like she wanted to erase it.
