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“I haven’t done a thing to him,” I say smoothly, stepping forward, my boots clicking softly against the pristine marble floor. Memories of the way he came apart on my knot come to mind, but I doubt that’s what this piece of shit is talking about. I chuckle. “I gave him a home. A place to feel safe. I gave him my soul.”

A quiet, breathtaking shift in the air pulls my focus away from the pathetic human. At the top of the grand staircase, the shadows melt away. I look up, and the breath catches in my throat. The link between us explodes with a brilliant, blinding wave of gold and silver light that makes my demon heart hammer against my ribs.

Bellamy stands at the landing of the grand staircase looking ethereal and so fucking beautiful.

He doesn’t just look like a survivor, or a man who spent months running from his past. He looks like a god of vengeance descending from the heavens. Maybe I’m the one who lost his damn mind.

Bellamy wears his open-collared shirt, shadowy blue brand on his neck glowing with a fierce radiant light under his skin. His long, dark wavy hair spills over his shoulders like a halo. His green eyes glow with a terrifying, sovereign power that commands the entire room. Is this what our bond did to him? Or was he always this unworldly.

He moves with a slow, stunning grace, his dark boots treading silently down the staircase. Every step he takes seems to draw the very magic of the estate around him, turning the shadows into an entourage that flows behind his shoulders like a cloak of dark silk.

He looks stunning. And lethal. He looks so breathtakingly powerful that I want to drop to my knees on the marble floor and worship him right in front of the man who tried to break him.

Gregory looks up the staircase, his breath hitching into a terrified, squeaking sob. He stumbles backward, his heels catching on the edge of the entry rug as he stares at the man he used to lock in a basement.

“Bellamy…?” Gregory whispers, his voice shaking. “Bellamy, baby… please. Look at me. These… these monsters, they’ve done something to your mind. To your body. They’ve infected you with their dark magic. Come down here. Come to me. I can help you… I can fix this…”

Killian rolls his eyes, and I huff a silent laugh. What the fuck does he think he can do?

Bellamy keeps walking. He reaches the middle landing of the staircase, stepping down until he stands about five feet above the foyer floor, looking down at Gregory like a king ready to give judgement.

A wicked smirk touches Bellamy’s plush lips. It’s a smirk laced with danger.

“You can’t fix anything, Gregory,” Bellamy says, completely unbothered. “You couldn’t even keep me, what makes you think you can fix me.”

Gregory’s face twists in a frantic, ugly mix of terror and rage. “I came for you! I spent thousands hunting you down, you little bitch! You belong to me, Bellamy! You can’t just leave me for some… some monster in the woods!”

Bellamy tilts his head, his emerald eyes burning brighter as he glances at me, then at the Devil Dog, before settling his gaze back onto Gregory’s trembling face.

Through the soul bond, I feel the determination in Bellamy’s mind. No echo of fear. Just the beautiful clarity of my mate who is ready to erase this pathetic man from his past.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” Bellamy says. His tone drops into a low purr. “This is my home. And you are trespassing.”

Gregory’s control snaps at those words. Driven by a hysterical panic, he raises the pistol with both hands, aiming the barrel directly at Bellamy’s chest.

“No. If you don’t come down here, now, I’ll shoot you!” Gregory screams, his finger tightening over the trigger.

I don’t move. Killian doesn’t move. We both know my shadow magic will protect him. The Devil Dog simply tilts its head, waiting for the only command that matters in this house.

Bellamy doesn’t even blink at the gun pointed at his heart. He stands tall, his posture regal, his emerald eyes burning as he looks down at the man who used to ruin his life.

Bellamy opens his mouth, his voice slicing through the silent room with finality.

“Kill him.”

Chapter twenty-one

The Cryptid

The two words echo through the manor like a sacred command.

“Kill him.”

The human’s voice rings out steady and sharp. It’s the final, lethal decree of our mate authorizing an execution.

Inside the shared vessel, the demon and I share, Vesper steps back. For two decades the high demon has held the reins, keeping my true, ancient form folded tight beneath his skin, letting me slip into the physical world only as a wisp of liquid smoke or as a phantom hound. But tonight, Vesper opens the inner gate wide. He relinquishes control completely, dropping his mortal flesh and surrendering the vessel to me.

Take him, Vesper’s whispers in my mind, dark and approving. He is yours, little cryptid.