It crashes down in colors of blazing sparks that flash behind my eyes. It’s only a second between my release and his, but his throbbing deep inside me only ignites another flash of stunning madness within my core that lingers on in a drifting wave of consuming pleasure.
It doesn’t slip away into a haze of lost thoughts. It stays for so long that I don’t know how much time passes as I lie against this beautiful man.
We fall into a heap of ragged breaths and storming hearts.
And for once, I understand every single thing about this hellacious man.
Just like he always understands me.
TWENTY-FOUR
A SISTER’S LOVE
Avian was right:it doesn’t matter if I’m blessed by Goddess Moon or not. I am who I am.
What matters so deeply in my mind, though, is why they would all lie. Nyra knew. She knew my mother lied, and she helped feed that lie. The memories of my life, all those times mother brushed through my long hair and fussed over the locks until they were perfection and all those times Nyra compared her own flawless beauty to mine, it wasn’t real.
Why? Why do it? What were they protecting?
The soft smile she passes Vanitee’s way while they quietly eat the morning’s breakfast stings a little to see. I suddenly feel like an outsider looking in on it all. No matter how out of place I feel in this twisted kingdom, I know my sister.
And we’ll always be there for one another.
She’ll tell me what I need to know. I just... I just have to save her from the viper’s nest first...
The three hellhounds whom I trust are all gathered around their queen as she discusses tonight’s full moon festivities. That’s an entirely different problem all on its own.
One I can’t manage to think too long on at the current time.
Instead, I take a shallow breath and make my way across the polished floors of the dining hall. A scattering of whispers follows me every step of the way.
Good. It’s always good to have a hobby, and if gossip is theirs, at least they’ve picked a subject of interest.
The hell fuckers.
My chin lifts higher, and when I finally come to my sister’s table at the back of the room, I don’t ask her to talk in private. I take the empty seat at her side.
The heavy wooden chair scrapes inelegantly as I make myself good and comfortable.
It’s best to be comfortable when in Hell. Make friends with all the demons.
Like the beautiful hell fae glaring at me currently.
“Morning, Vanitee,” I say with a big smile.
There’s that fake fucking smile I worked so hard to perfect.
It’s back, motherfuckers. And so am I.
Vanitee’s gaze remains dark and dead, but she does sneak a glance at Nyra. Probably to see how she should react to me.
Kindly. And carefully, if you’re smart.
Nyra hesitates, but she does press the smallest of tense smiles against her full lips. Last night and the time we’ve spent here in general, has strained our relationship—just like that strained pleasantry in her features when she looks at me now.
“You’re not mad...” she says—more of a statement than a question.
I was never mad. I was, and still am, confused.
