Page 25 of Knight’s Salvation

Chapter 6

Zenon rolledto his back and scrubbed his palms over his face. He’d slept like shit.

He’d gone to sleep again thinking of Mia, and he’d dreamed of her through the night. The feel of her hand on his abs, the way her body felt in his arms as he’d carried her to her room—the press of her soft, warm lips against his bicep.

But he’d woken like every other morning, dick soft and useless against his thigh. He couldn’t fuck the woman he wanted, couldn’t even jack off. Even if he wanted to risk it all, take Mia for himself—which he could admit to himself he did, so damn much it hurt—he couldn’t have her. Not ever, and not just because he was a disgusting, tainted waste of space. He couldn’t give her what a man should, what he should be able to give his woman.

Mia had been busy with her training the last two weeks, and Zenon had managed to avoid her, besides the odd glance when he couldn’t take it another minute without seeing her. His demon was as frustrated as he was. His constant yearning for that female was pushing him over the edge. Made no damn sense.

The others had noticed the difference in him. And not just because he’d tried to make bolognese out of that demon’s head in the interrogation room. But shit, just the thought of that sadistic bastard Diemos getting anywhere near Mia, of even knowing of her existence had released something deep inside him. Zenon would have killed him, would have torn his head off with his bare hands if the others hadn’t pulled him off.

Then Mia had been waiting for him at his door. She’d wanted him. He’d smelled her desire for him. For him.

He’d never wanted to be like Kryos or Lazarus, not until he’d discovered Mia’s existence. She had looked at him for a response, a sign he might feel the same for her, and even the scent of her sweet arousal hadn’t caused even a twitch from the useless organ hanging between his legs.

His hand rested on his stomach and he let his fingers trail to his flaccid cock, gripped it in his fist, and squeezed. Nothing.

What was he doing?

None of it mattered. He couldn’t have her. He’d pushed her away, to protect her, to protect himself.

And he’d hurt her.

Was still hurting her. It was there in the way she held her body, in the humiliation that colored her cheeks when she saw him.

And he’d never hated himself more.

Shoving back the sheet, he got out of bed. As soon as his feet hit carpet, pain shot from the base of his skull and burned a path through his chest and stomach, blazing acid-like needles down his arms to the tips of his fingers, down his thighs and calves. His knees gave out and he crumpled to the ground, hissing in agony.

Not again. Not now. Please not fucking now. He wasn’t ready for this. Not yet. He’d been weakening steadily over the last week but thought he had more time. Zenon curled into a ball and tried to stop from crying out as the sensation of flesh being torn from bone washed over him repeatedly.

He didn’t know how long he lay there before the pain began to subside. He’d have to go tonight. Bile churned in his gut, burned a path to the back of his throat.

Still on the ground, he reached up for the phone on the bedside table and sent a text to Silas.

Need to make a house call.

As always, the angel would make sure he had an excuse to be away from the compound for a day or two. He replied almost immediately.

I’ll make the arrangements.

He tried to stand but his legs felt like Jell-O, and he was forced to drag himself to the bathroom. Using the wall for support, he pulled himself up and turned on the shower as hot as it would go then climbed in. The heat burned his skin, seeped into his flesh, warming him to the bone, softening his seized muscles. He hated being so damn weak.

Stiff and sore, but mobile, Zenon dressed as quickly as he could and headed to the control room. It was either that or go to the holding cells and finish off every last demon they had down there.

They weren’t going to talk. A death delivered by any one of the knights would be a hell of a lot better than the slow, sadistic torture Diemos would subject them to for days before finally putting them out of their misery if they talked. He’d experienced Diemos’s special brand of attention himself a time or two, and only knew of one person who deserved that kind of punishment…

He slammed the door on those thoughts.

Zenon wanted the demons dead, wanted the threat to Mia out of this compound, especially since he’d be gone for a couple of days. But he knew Chaos wouldn’t allow it, and right then he didn’t have the strength to go head to head with the other knight.

When he walked into the control room, Gunner and Rocco were already there. They lifted their chins in welcome. Chaos turned and did the same.

Zenon gritted his teeth. “Give me something to do. I need to kill something.”

Chaos raised a brow at his barked order. “You’re gonna have to take your aggression out in the gym. Only job for today is delivering Mia to her new place. Gun and Roc get that one.”

Chaos’s words hammered around his skull. Everything in him rebelled at the idea of her leaving. “Mia’s going?”