Page 90 of Mortis

“Were you listening to us fucking?” I complained, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Wasn’t trying to,” he retorted through the door. “You were screaming so loud, I think the whole street heard you getting dicked down.”

My mouth fell open as heat flooded my cheeks. Kael merely stared at me with wide eyes, like he wasn’t entirely sure what the problem was.

Maybe he wasn’t.

Maybe demons just fucked wherever they fancied in Hell.

Horny in the middle of the street? Who cared? Drop trou and take a trip to pound town.

“Good job, Kael,” Arlo continued, because apparently he’d chosen violence today. “I was starting to think Teddy’s arse had been declared permanently out of service.”

I groaned and collapsed forward, mashing my face into Kael’s chest.

“Go away, you perv.”

“I’m a perv who brought you dinner,” he called back. “Now come on out, you heathens. I’ve brought us a feast from Wok ’n’ Roll, and I’m fucking starving.”

I listened as his boots retreated down the hallway. Then stopped. A few seconds later, they came marching straight back.

“But shower first,” Arlo added. “I just bought those cushion covers, and with the noises you were making, your arse is a fucking flood risk.”

My eyes squeezed shut.

I was moving out.

Kael could carry the furniture.

And Arlo . . . he could go fuck himself.

14

KAEL

I felt lighter after telling Teddy about my past. It was a peculiar sensation, as though the memories had possessed a physical weight, and by speaking them aloud, I had transferred some small portion of the burden from my shoulders.

Though I hadn’t told him everything.

I hadn’t explained the circumstances surrounding my escape. Teddy had already been so distressed hearing about my captivity that I couldn’t bring myself to add to his heartbreak by describing the one night that still haunted my dreams. I couldn’t tell him that their screams continued to echo around my skull, just as they had through that musty chamber. Or that the coppery stench of their blood had embedded itself so deeply in my memory that sometimes I swore I could still smell it.

So I had ended my recollections there, resolving to tell him the rest another day.

Because I wanted Teddy to know everything.

I wanted him to know every part of me.

The monster.

The Beast.

The things that had been done to me, and the things I had done in return. Perhaps one day I would even find the courage to tell him the things I feared would make him look at me differently. Not yet. But based on how our companionship seemed to be evolving, we had plenty of time for that.

I hated seeing him cry.

Every tear had caused an unpleasant twisting beneath my ribs. I’d wanted to claw the feeling out of my chest. I’d wanted to destroy myself simply because I had been the reason for his distress.

Except I wasn’t.