“Um, Anxo? Could I maybe borrow a jacket? It doesn’t even have to be clean or anything.” It’s the first time I’ve stumbled over my words, and I hate how small it makes me feel.
I don’t know where this sudden fear is coming from, but a part of me can’t stop thinking that asking for more will make Angel snap—liketheydid.
Fates, you’re pathetic, Nevaeh.
When I finally muster the courage to look up from the captivating patterns on his arms, Angel is studying me intensely.
Maybe he’s mad. I would be, too, if a stranger slept on my bed, used my bathroom, made me buy them new clothes, and never stopped asking for more.
I’m about to take it back when Angel erases the space between us in two long strides. I don’t think he understands the concept of personal space… and I don’t think I mind.Treacherous brain.
“Arms up,” Angel whispers, and I obey without a thought. Another first for me.
Lost in the depths of his emerald eyes, I let Angel guide my arms through the softest fabric I’ve ever touched.
I look down at his pale blue hoodie that is swallowing me whole. The comforting weight feels like a safety net around me. The sleeves are long enough for me to clutch a fistful in my hands.I love it.
The fabric is soft against my fresh scars. And the best part? It smells exactly like Angel.
Note to self: I want to be buried in Angel’s hoodie when I die.
My head dips as I greedily inhale his rich, woodsy scent that makes my Divinesinguntil Angel gently grips my chin to capture my attention again. He’s so close I can feel his warm breath on my face, his lips a mere breath away from mine.
“I don’t want to see a flicker of hesitation on your beautifulface again, alright? Nevaeh, you can ask me anything your heart desires, and I swear on my life I’ll find a way to give it to you.” He is so close that some of his words allow his lips to skim across mine ever so slightly.
I think I’m going to pass out.
His reluctance is evident on his face when he pulls away, and I have to stop myself from gripping his collar to pull him back in.
When Angel raises a brow, I nod before my brain can think of a reason to argue.
I’m too engrossed in figuring out my reactions to him that I almost miss when Angel says, “Let’s get you something to eat before you meet the rest of the group. They can be a little handful. Trust me, you do not want to meet them on an empty stomach.”
Is it bad that going back to the dungeon sounds like a better option?
The thought of meeting new people makes me nauseous. I don’t need more eyes judging, scanning, and sizing me up. My head is already a mess.
“Do I have to?”
“Quit pouting, sweetheart. There’s nothing to worry about. You’ll love them.” Angel winks over his shoulder. The only reason I don’t trip over my own feet and fall on my ass is because he’s holding my hand.
‘But they won’t love you. No one likes weaklings.’
I’m more worried aboutthemnot liking me, Angel. If they find out that the voice of my tormentor lives rent-free in my head, or see how many loose screws I have up there, they’ll run.
“Come on, they’ve been anxious to meet you.”
I toss my head back and start whining, but Angel tunes out my tantrum and keeps dragging me behind him. We stop inside a small kitchen, and before I can blink, he lifts me like I weigh nothing and sets me on the counter.
For someone who acts like a rabid dog if anyone gets too close, I’m allowing Angel a lot of physical contact without anyconsequences.
The second I get some alone time, I’m getting to the bottom of whatever hold this man has on me. I can’t go around not being skeptical of people. That’s how you end up dead in a ditch.
Angel starts pulling open drawers like a man on a mission, piling all kinds of snacks around me like he’s presenting an offering to a goddess.
“What do you feel like eating, sweetheart? You must be starving.”
Uh oh.I don’t think I can eat anything around him. I can never be sure if I’ll devour it or throw it all up.
