Shit.
I darted to him, grabbed the pegs, and spun the wheel, flipping him upright. Supes healed fast, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell.
He sucked in air like he’d been drowning, and a small stab of guilt wormed its way under my skin.What did I do to this poor bastard?
I started uncuffing him, one wrist at a time. My mind wouldn’t stop circling. He wasn’t the one who’d triggered my rage and lit the fuse to this brutal, messy display of dominance.
Then wet heat slipped down between my legs, and just like that, guilt evaporated.What do I have to feel bad about?
He knew the risks when he came tonight. He knew someone might get pulled on stage. I even gave him outs. Multiple.Afterstrapping him in.
I crouched and undid the ankle cuffs.
He had fun too, for fuck’s sake.The cum on my leg said everything I needed to know. Hell, this was probably the best fuck of his damn life. I didn’t fuck just anyone.
Okay… Ididfuck him, but that wasn’t the norm for me. Usually, I got the lucky bastard who shared the stage with me off with nothing but my powers, flooding their minds with what they desired most until they melted on the floor. But tonight… I didn’t use them.
Why the hell didn’t I use them?
My lower back pulsed, that now-familiar burn blooming again, sharper this time. Five pricks, all centered where I knew the invisible roses lived on my skin.What the fuck? Is something happening to my tattoo?
Not having the mental capacity to handle all that, I put a pin in it and stood up, wiping my hands to stop them from shaking. “You’re free to go. Thank you,” I said coolly, then turned and flew offstage, ignoring the audience and the final bows I normally took.
“Wait!” he called, stumbling behind me, still adjusting to solid ground. I didn’t look back. I slipped through the curtains before he could follow.
Marty was there, holding my silk robe like always. I slid into it just as Van called my name from the other side of the stage, but I was not in the mood for his knowing eyes or the consequences of what I’d just done.
“Stall for me,” I muttered. Marty nodded, lips pressed in a disapproving line as he faced Van's way. Loyal to the end.
With a snap of my wings, I tore out the door and down the hall. I didn’t want the wolf to chase me. I didn’t want to hear how “powerful” or “unhinged” my performance was from the club members. I didn’t want to face Van’s concern, or Lucus’ judgmental stare, or god fucking forbid Alic, not until my walls were back up, covering the vulnerability I was feeling now.
I needed my office, to lock the door, to breathe, but when I turned the corner, Lucus was already there. Arms crossed, his eyes burned a hole straight through the door, so I ducked back behind the wall.
Fuck.
New plan.
I needed somewhere no one would think to look. Somewhere evenIwouldn’t think to look.
My mind spun. Not the talent's get ready rooms. They’d be loyal and wouldn’t snitch, but they weren’t convincing enough to fool Van. Not the security room. Those guys worshipped Alic, always talking about how big and fast he was. The specialty rooms would be checked within minutes.
Then Ezra’s voice floated into my memory, smug and helpful.“Every business needs a conference room, Aniyah. Even if you use it for storage.”
Of course. The conference room I used to store past tax documents. The glorified closet only Beth the accountant knew existed.
I doubled back and ducked into the dim emergency hall, the red exit sign casting the space in crimson gloom. I’d refused to install more lights here—a petty screw-you to Ezra for making me include that damn room when I didn't want to.
Now, I was silently thanking her.
I grabbed the handle of the inconspicuous door and slipped inside, pulling it shut behind me. Cool darkness wrapped around me like a weighted blanket.
Finally, silence.
Finally, alone.
Moving away from the door, I slid along the wall until my back hit cold concrete. The chill grounded me. I let it. I took a few steady breaths, each one jagged around the edges.
I’ve never been this mad before. Not truly. Not like this.
