Page 25 of Reforging Onyx

Onyx took a deep breath.

“I will not let him touch you,” Dominic said quietly. “I promise.”

This time.

Onyx swallowed hard, then nodded. “I didn’t mean to…” To what? Make Dominic look bad? He should’ve been downright pleased that he was doing that. But he wasn’t, because it made himself look even worse. “Okay,” he said, trying to gather himself. “I’ll be okay.”

He wished he had his headphones. He wished he had lashed out. He wished he’d done anything but turn to the man who was ultimately responsible for what Nathan had done to him for solace.

“His ability requires touch, and his magic is no match for mine otherwise,” Dominic murmured, giving the back of Onyx’s neck a light squeeze.

Keeping the hand on the back of Onyx’s neck, Dominic returned to his chair, guiding Onyx back to his place on the cushion nearby.

Chapter 12

Onyx

Sometime during Onyx’s panic attack, Nathan and another guest had taken their seats. A male slave a few years older than Onyx knelt on a cushion next to Nathan’s chair, and the Warwick witch’s hand loosely rested on his pet’s shoulder.

Onyx wanted to lash out, to wipe the faint amusement from Nathan’s face, but he looked away and stared at the floor instead. He didn’t want the punishment that it would ultimately result in. He couldn’t deal with that.

Not when the last time…

He shuddered at even the thought of the darkness spell. Dominic had done that to him. Dominic. Dominic had done far worse to Onyx than Nathan had, so why was Onyx freaking out over one Warwick witch who required touch to work his magic?

It didn’t even make any sense. Onyx was the dangerous one, provided he could act quickly enough. Even without his magic, he was still a deadly threat.

And with it? Well, they knew his reputation.

They had probably thought he was strong until this.

Bitterness seeped into him. They’d talk about him now — about how pathetic he was, about how Dominic had broken him until he’d turned toward the source of so much pain instead of away from it.

Drowning in his misery, Onyx ignored Dominic as the Bancroft witch chatted with his guests. He didn’t look up until a servant arrived to inform them that dinner was ready. Even then, he didn’t move until Dominic urged him to his feet.

They kept their distance from Nathan, much to Onyx’s relief. He didn’t know what would happen if the blond witch did try to crowd him. What would be the best course of action, if he felt obligated to fight or take flight? What would he do then?

He wasn’t sure.

He followed Dominic and knelt beside his chair, shifting awkwardly as he tried to keep from drawing further attention to himself. Unlike the other two pets, he wasn’t graceful and still, and he didn’t want to be.

Scorn raced through him as he watched them being hand-fed, right up until Dominic offered him a small piece of bread.

Onyx reached up to take it, but Dominic withdrew it before he could grab the food.

His eyes narrowed. He didn’t want to eat from Dominic’s fingers, especially in a setting like this. They already thought he was pathetic based on his reactions to Nathan, and they’d think even less of him if he did this.

He shouldn’t have cared what they thought. But he did.

As hungry as he was, he couldn’t bring himself to eat directly from Dominic’s hand. He shook his head, glowering down at the floor. He’d just starve.

Dominic went back to eating without uttering a word, but Nathan commented, “Raynes are dramatic, aren’t they?”

Dramatic.

Dominic chuckled. “They can be,” he agreed, though his words held the faintest bit of warning in them.

Good. Onyx would show them dramatic if Nathan didn’t shut the fuck up.