Page 30 of Knight’s Salvation

Even with the bitch confined, her powers half what they had been in hell, his mistress was still a serious threat to those around her. He would never allow that, would never let her lay a finger on Mia.

Arching up, he flew skyward, using energy he didn’t have to spare, then shot across the night sky to the other side of the city. Tucking in his wings tight to his back, he let himself plummet toward the Earth. The skyscrapers and cars closed in the more altitude he dropped, and he was rewarded with a short reprieve from the knots in his belly when his internal organs smashed against his spine from the velocity of the drop.

Snapping out his wings, he caught the air and with two powerful beats of his wings landed on a large balcony.

The doors into the penthouse were open, and dim light filtered through the gauzy curtains that hung there floating gently in the breeze.

As always, his mistress knew he was coming, had anticipated his visit.

Mia’s delicate pixie features flashed through his mind, and he forced them back out. This was no place for her. It was too dangerous, even in his thoughts. She was everything good and right. This place held nothing but humiliation—pain.

As Zenon stumbled through the door, uncaring of his nakedness, his demon snarled and twisted. But when he breached the threshold it was forced back, suppressed. Helena knew better, had learned the hard way that Zenon’s demon would kill her if it got the chance. Bile rose in the back of his throat as his dick filled and hardened, jutting from his body like the evil bitch had wrapped her hand around it, leading him to her.

The very idea of touching her made him sick to his stomach, but when he was in her domain he was hers to control. That included his cock. She didn’t like anyone else touching him, and used her powers to make sure she had full control over who he did, and more importantly, did not fuck.

The pain had reached a point of no return, his skin burning like it was being peeled from his flesh. He was weak, had pushed himself to the limit. This was the longest he’d gone without coming to her, and he knew she’d make him pay for that as well. She didn’t like to be kept waiting.

He entered the room set up for their time together. She stood by the window, gazing out, her long black hair, sleek and glossy, hanging down her back. She wore a pale blue filmy robe that you could see the outline of her body through as clear as if she were standing naked. She turned, and he flinched, her huge black eyes pinning him to the spot.

Her gaze moved over his body, landing on his straining cock, and the scent of her arousal drifted over, surrounded him, making him want to gag. “Where have you been?”

“You know where I’ve been.” Not like he could go far.

She cocked her head to the side and studied him so thoroughly it sent a shudder of unease through his body. “I’ve been worried. What on earth could have kept you from me?”

Silas was the only one strong enough to control Helena and had her locked up tight in her ivory tower. She had no choice but to cool her heels and wait. She hated that more than anything.

“I’ve been busy.”

Wrong thing to say. Her eyes flared. “What’s more important than your life? You could have died.”

“I’m hardly going to let that happen, now am I?”

She pulled open the front of her robe, revealing her perfect, unmarred skin. Slender fingers smoothed over her flat stomach and moved between her thighs. “You realize I will have to punish you?”

“But of course, mistress”

She hissed. She hated when he called her that. But he refused to call her by her name. That was an intimacy he would refuse her until the day he died.

“Get on your back, drudge,” she snapped. Oh yeah, she was pissed. She only called him that when extremely displeased.

He did as she said, because Helena held all the cards.

When he was just fourteen, she’d bought him from a sadistic bastard who’d kept him locked up. Chained and collared from the age of six, he’d feared everything and everyone. But she’d treated him with kindness, convinced him she cared for him—loved him.

He would have done anything for her, afraid she would cast him aside, back to that hellish existence. But it hadn’t taken long to realize it was all a sick game for her, that he was just a valuable commodity. She used him countless times to gain information and power. Yes, she hated to share him, but to beings who hated angels with fierceness verging on insanity Zenon had been a plaything to extract that hatred upon. He’d fetched a high price for his mistress.

More if they wanted to damage him, taking him out of commission for several days while he recovered.

And that was the reason Silas hovered the fuck around him like a bad smell. Guilt over Zenon’s treatment, which made no sense, not when the angel had had no clue of his existence until he’d stepped through the portal all those years ago.

The bed was covered in red silk but felt like a million razor blades cutting into his oversensitized flesh when he lay down. She let her robe slither to the floor and moved up beside him. He locked his eyes on the ceiling, and she trailed long red fingernails down his chest, hard enough to break the skin, hard enough that blood bubbled to the surface. The scent of her arousal increased at the sight of his blood and she gripped his erection and squeezed, pumped his flesh several times, knowing how much he hated that she could force a physical reaction from him.

“You really are a magnificent specimen. As soon as I saw you, even as a filthy little runt, I’d known the kind of male you’d become.” She trailed her fingers across his cheek. “That fucking angel will pay for messing with your face. He did it to piss me off, trying to stake some claim over you. But you will always be my pet, won’t you, drudge?”

After all this time, she still hadn’t worked out the brand on his face had nothing to do with her. If she knew what it was, what it did, she’d lose her shit.

Her goal was to return to Hell, overthrow Diemos, and sit her skinny ass on his throne. It hadn’t worked the last time, and because of her failed attempt she’d been forced to flee. Of course she’d dragged him along with her.