Page 84 of Realm of the Wicked

‘How’s Agatha? Is Archie okay? Have you been feeding him?’ I mumbled against his chest.

Damien laughed quietly. ‘Everyone is fine. Agatha is good. And yes, I’ve been feeding your feral Hellcat. He was terrorizing Luna when I left.’

‘He is not a Hellcat. He’s a Maine Coon. And I doubt he was terrorizing anyone. He’s a prince.’

‘All right, feeding time at the zoo is over.’ Clarissa stormed into my room with a glare. ‘Damien, yet again, you’ve overstayed your welcome. Ta, now. If I need you again, I’ll be sure to call.’

‘As always, Clarissa, thank you for the warm welcome.’ Damien stepped away from me, never breaking eye contact.

Immediately, the chill of Hell was back.

‘I’ll come for you,’ he promised.

Then he was gone, and I was once again alone with the beating of my heart and the constant drum of my memories. Damien would be back, though. He promised.

He’d be back and then we’d have forever.

31

STELLA

I wasn’t in Hell any more. I couldn’t be, because I wasn’t cold. What a strange contradiction that was. Everyone though Hell was hot, and here I was, grateful to be warm once more.

Warm. Comfortable. I laid in a bed, covered with fluffy blankets. I opened my eyes, recognizing my bed in the Fringe, and I smiled to myself. When I rolled over, Damien was laying on his side, dark waves an absolute mess as he watched me.

‘I told you I’d save you.’

The curtains surrounding my bed fluttered in the breeze, and I trailed my gaze over Damien’s strong chest.

I never doubted it, I wanted to say, but the words were stuck. Then the lights were turning on and I wasn’t in my bedroom at all, but still in the awful room in Hell.

Silas loomed over me as I scrubbed my eyes, trying to convince myself that Damien had only been a dream. He tossed a bundle of black at me. ‘Get dressed.’

I glared up at him. ‘I am dressed.’

He leered down at me. ‘Not appropriately for where we’re going. Get dressed, or I’ll do it for you.’

‘I’m fine, thanks.’ I snatched up the dark pile, which absolutely did not feel like enough clothing.

‘Next time, then.’ Silas grinned at me and left the room like he was just biding his time. Which, maybe he was.

Everyone’s expressions bothered me down here: Clarissa’s, the woman who sporadically brought me meals, Silas. Not because of how fake everyone seemed to be either, but the opposite. They didn’t bother hiding their true feelings here. Everything they thought or felt was written across their face as plain as day.

And why should they hide it? They were already in Hell. Not like it could get any worse.

Regardless, it was unnerving to see people’s innermost thoughts and feelings on display. Fear, longing, hatred, envy, it was all there for anyone to see.

As Silas closed the door, I held up the scrap of black fabric. A lace dress, like the ones I used to wear when I was young and fun and frequented nightclubs. Only this one was missing the lining, sheer, leaving little to nothing to the imagination. I sighed. I doubted I had much say in the matter. Besides, Damien asked me not to make too much of a scene. And if Clarissa had her way, I wouldn’t care for very much longer.

I stripped off the basic pants and shirt I’d been wearing, sliding the thin lace over my body with a shiver. The lace definitely didn’t help with the chill in here.

Fuck. I looked down at myself, tugging the hem down on my thighs the best I could, but there was no way to make more fabric. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing, Damien,’ I muttered darkly, running my hands through my hair. Least they could’ve done was offer me a brush.

Damien wouldn’t leave me here to rot. I knew that as much as I knew the sky was blue, and Tuesday came after Monday. He’d get us both out of here.

I thought back to the way his eyes flashed in the dim light of my room. I couldn’t explain it, could barely understand it, but something in him was desperate to keep me safe. For the first time, I wondered if I underestimated the depth of his feelings. It felt like I was merely scratching the surface of something I had no true knowledge of.

Then Silas was there again, not bothering knocking, nor concealing the lustful gaze he raked over my barely clothed body. He let out a low whistle. ‘I’m not one for messing around with humans, but I gotta say, there might be something to Damien’s thought process here.’