“Are you okay?” a soft voice asked.
I looked at the young barista; concern was etched on his expression. I opened my mouth to speak but couldn’t. I knew whatever would have come out, it would have been a sob, so I nodded and walked out.
I needed to get as far from here as possible. In times like these, I wished I had my power to transport. It made life so much easier. If I had my powers, I wouldn’t be in this mess, I thought.
Making my way down the street, I found myself in front of my club. It was only nine in the morning and nowhere near open, but I needed to sulk and drink.
I fumbled for the keys in my pocket, their cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of the morning sun. With a turn of the key, the lock clicked, granting me access to the dim, silent interior. I locked the door behind me, sealing myself inside this familiar refuge.
As I made my way to the bar, the sound of my footsteps echoed in the empty space, each step a reminder of the void Talon's rejection had left within me.
“Master, what brings you here so early?” Jorin's voice, usually a welcome presence, now grated on my frayed nerves.
Whirling around, I fixed him with a glare, my anger finding an outlet. “Since when do you question my comings and goings, Jorin? Who do you think you are to challenge me?” I growled, the raw edge of my emotions bleeding into my voice.
Jorin's silver eyes widened, and he immediately dropped to his knees, a gesture of submission that momentarily cut through the fog of my anger. His action was a stark reminder of our intertwined history and his unwavering loyalty. Despite this, the rawness of recent events clung to me, a reminder that I was still grappling with a turmoil that refused to be silenced.
I exhaled deeply, the sound heavy in the quiet of the club. “Get me a drink; I’ll be in my office,” I said, my voice more controlled now as I turned towards my private sanctuary.
“Master?” Jorin's voice halted my steps.
I glanced over my shoulder, my gaze sharp. “What now?”
Jorin, still kneeling, seemed cautious, his eyes not meeting mine. “What type of drink, sir?”
I continued walking, the need for solitude pressing on me. “Something strong,” I called back without turning. My thoughts were already drifting back to Talon, to the encounter that left me in this state.
Heaving another sigh, I collapsed on the couch and buried my head in my hands. “I should’ve kept my fool mouth shut,” I whispered.
I didn’t know why I brought up staying away right after the best blowjob ever. I suppose I thought it wouldn’t matter. We were mates, damn it. Talon had to know that. Hell, even in the glares that he gave me, I saw the desire, the need, the connection. Was he fighting himself?
“Why, damn it?” I muttered, throwing myself back against the cushions and closing my eyes in a futile attempt to find some peace.
But peace was the last thing I found. “Problems?” The voice shattered the silence, jolting me upright. It was a voice I never wanted to hear again, a voice from a past I had tried to leave behind. It was the voice of the betrayer.
I sprang to my feet, my eyes snapping open. There, standing in my private space, was a man I didn’t recognize. He was clad in an expensive suit, his auburn hair cascading to his shoulders in stark contrast to his meticulously tailored attire. But it was his eyes that seized my attention–amber, deep, and hauntingly familiar. Those eyes… I knew them too well.
“Juls,” I growled, every muscle in my body tensing. No matter the form he took, I’d know those damn eyes anywhere. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
The intensity of the moment hung in the air, charged with a history of betrayal and unresolved anger. I wanted to attack him, but I knew without my powers, I didn’t have a chance.
“Oh, come now. You can’t still be mad,” Juls replied, taking a step forward. “We’re demons. Of course, we’d betray each other. Besides, it’s been several thousand years.”
“What do you want, Juls?” I repeated. I never wanted to see Juls again unless I was beating the shit out of him.
Juls sighed and took another step closer. “Same old Dom, always straight to the point. I came to offer you a way back.”
“Back?” I eyed him warily.
“Yes, back.” He stepped closer and trailed his finger on my chest. I wanted to break his damn finger. “I was remembering all the…fun we used to have. And thought, what the hell, we can be together, even in these forms.”
I stepped back. “I’m not fucking interested.”
“Oh, come on, Dom. Surely, you miss our time together—the pleasure we shared. And you must miss the obsidian sands and the nether realm. I’m offering you a chance to go back.” He shrugged. “Of course, you’d be subservient to me.”
I growled at his words. “I’ll never be subservient to you.”
“Master here—” Jorin’s eyes widened, and he dropped the glass in his hand. His transformation was instantaneous. Gone was the weak, scrawny human form. In its place now stood his demonic form, clad in his shadow-scale armor. His silver eyes swirled, and magic mist filled the space.
