1
JESSIA
The urge to purr died hours ago. The compulsion to soothe, to calm, to settle tempers that would paint bruises and pain across my body… it was dead.
Resentment and bitterness filled that space instead, as caustic as poison, as volatile as a cobra. Why should I soothe the hurt of these monsters when they only inflicted pain on me? It had been a survival instinct for so long, buried in my subconscious until I caught myself doing it without even being aware. But now? I throttled the purr in my throat, gritted my teeth, and breathed through the throbbing, splintering agony.
It made no difference anyway. Purring hadn’t stopped any of the men who grabbed me and my two friends. It hadn’t stopped them knocking Lynn unconscious, or throwing ChaCha into the back of a van. It hadn’t stopped their growls and barks that hit with the force of a slap to the face. It hadn’t stopped any of it. Not like it stopped Pierce for the three years we were married.
It was my secret weapon, that purr. A miraculous gift from my omega mother. Nowhere near as potent as an omega purr, but enough—to calm the finest edge of an alpha rage, to keep me safe. At least it was. Now, it did nothing. These men were too twisted, too separated from an alpha’s nature that a purr did nothing.
Now, I laid there, unseeing, unspeaking, so it startled me when a rattling vibration began in my chest. Sounds met my ears in an undecipherable blur. My brain had shut down for so long that I couldn’t sort out the meaning of the sounds, didn’t even recognise the voices. But that scent. Salt and freedom and wide, open waters. I knew that scent, and I roused, blinking at the dark basement and the rancid mattress, to find myself covered in blood.
A weight crushed me to the dirty mattress; I only became aware of it when it was shoved off me, freeing my lungs to suck in more of that ocean scent. My brow furrowed, my brain slow to connect even as tears stung my eyes.
“Jessia.”
His fingers were at my temple, brushing a lock of hair from my forehead, eyes usually vivid blue peering into mine, as dark and silver as a storm.
“It’s Devil,” he said, with remarkable softness, his voice full of grit and barely suppressed anger. There was none of that anger in his touch as his knuckles traced my cheek, coming away smeared with red. Was I bleeding? “It’s Fil, remember?”
I blinked, and the scent of blood hit me, coppery and thick. I looked at my hands and found them covered in it. My heart stuttered, panic wrapping around my chest and pulling tight. Where was I bleeding?
Devil wiped more blood from my face, shrugging out of his leather jacket and bundling me into the shirt he’d worn beneath it. “I’m here to get you out, angel.”
It registered then: the Knights were here. I was safe. We were all safe.
“ChaCha and I are here, too,” Lynn said in a raspy voice that made me lift my head, our eyes connecting. As if I had ever forgotten that I wasn’t alone, that we were all broken. “We’re safe now, Jess.”
Safe. But there was no part of me that didn’t hurt. And I remembered every single second of it. Every moment from kidnapping to right now, with Devil crouching before me, his brow pinched with worry. No, it was fear. I saw it in the storm of his eyes, the tentative way he reached out to me, the fact his gaze never left me. Why was he afraid?
“Where am I bleeding?” I rasped, my voice whispering and unrecognisable.
His stormy eyes darkened until there was no blue visible at all. His reply was as quiet as mine. “This isn’t yours, angel, but… there’s blood between your legs.”
I nodded. I’d expected as much. The room twisted and twirled and I sucked in a breath. “Dizzy.”
He helped me get to my feet, wrapping his shirt around me and letting me lean on him as his warm hands fastened the buttons. My skin prickled in the places he brushed me, though there was nothing cruel or solicitous or even possessive in the touches. If anything, it was a reminder that no one else could lay their hands on me now. The Knights had found us. I would never leave their compound again.
I dared to look beyond Devil, and wasn’t surprised to see Sweetie and Cobra had come for us, too. Their scents had cut through the rank mess of the basement, familiar and comforting even if I hadn’t spent a lot of time with either of them. None of them were men I’d shared a bed with. Devil wasn’t, either, but sometimes I felt he wanted to.
The closest he’d come was kissing my forehead when I fell asleep in the rec room one night. I’d pretended to still be asleep as he carried me to my bedroom in the sanctuary, blatantly breaking the no-alphas-allowed rule to nestle me gently in bed and tuck me in. I’d thought about that gesture for months, waited for him to make a move, but nothing changed. I thought I’d read him wrong but now, looking into his furious face, and those fearful eyes, I wasn’t sure.
“What’s wrong with your hand, angel?” Devil asked in a new voice that made me shudder. Low like thunder. Wrath, barely concealed.
“I’m fine,” I murmured, but I frowned at my hand and realised I’d been subconsciously cradling it to my chest. “I—I don’t know what happened.”
I felt disconnected from my body. I could feel where Devil’s shirt rested over my shoulders and brushed my painful breasts, my tender stomach, but the sensations were blurry and distant. A dull pain pulsed through my wrist, and I frowned. I hadn’t even noticed it, all my other hurts louder, demanding more attention.
“I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to summon a smile and failing miserably. “Can we—you’re taking us home, right?” I blinked away the stinging in my eyes and looked up at Devil, unsurprised to find him watching me but a little startled by the intensity of his stare. He scanned every part of me, as if searching for more injuries I wasn’t aware of. The tight urgency turned his stubbled, handsome face into that of a stranger.
I’d only ever seen him smiling, easy going, and warm. This side of Devil… I’d never wondered why he’d been given that name. His real name was Filippus; he confided in me one night in the bar, when everyone else had gone to bed and no one had asked for my company. Or maybe they thought I had already been claimed for Devil’s bed.
He’d told me his name was Filippus, and he’d joined the Knights out of anger over his mum’s first husband who traumatised her even now, years after his dad put the monster down. I’d told him I ran from someone who hurt me, too. It was more than anyone else knew. I didn’t like to think about Pierce or the three years I spent with him.Withwas maybe the wrong word. It had been a fairy tale for a few months, and then the worst nightmare I’d lived through. Until this nightmare.
I just wanted to go home and forget any of it had happened, the way I purposely forgot about Pierce when I sought refuge with the Knights.
“Angel,” Devil said with an attempt to soften the edges of his thunderous wrath. “Did you hear me?”
