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A smile twitches at my lips. I have no idea if it will work—probably not, to be fair. But I’m willing to try my luck.
I make quick work of untying them and carry them back to the bedroom I left a few hours ago.
Silently, I slip inside, finding Daemon still fast asleep, only he’s helped me out somewhat by rolling onto his back.
I stand there for a few seconds, just watching his chest rise and fall. One of his arms has been thrown over his head, his lips are parted, and his eyelids flicker.
I almost change my mind and walk back out again, seeing him looking so peaceful. But I tell myself that if he’s ever going to sleep like a normal person, then he really doesn’t need to sleep all day.
Twisting the rope in my fingers, I close the space between us and look between the bed, my soon-to-be bindings and his wrists.
I’ll be the first to admit that I have no idea how I’m going to pull this off. But I figure that I’ll only regret not trying.
To my utter shock, Daemon doesn’t so much as stir as I move his arms and slip the rope over his wrists.
I secure my knots the best I can and just hope that it’ll be enough before I lift his trouser leg, plucking his pocket knife from its hiding spot and crawling on top of him.
I may not have forgotten that he’d stolen my knickers earlier, but the second the fabric of his sweats connects with my sensitive skin, I’m more than aware of the situation.
Shamelessly, my hips roll over his crotch, and I smile as I feel him growing beneath me.
“Calli,” he mutters in his sleep, his arms pulling against his binding.
My heart jumps into my throat and my stomach knots as I watch him start to come to.
Have I just made a massive mistake?
“Angel,” he groans, his hips bucking from the bed. “Did you need something?”
“Yeah. A few things actually.”
I know the moment he fully comes back to himself. His entire body freezes beneath me before he tries to move his arms from above his head.
“What the—” His eyes fly open in shock and they instantly find mine.
A wicked smile curls at my lips as I twist his knife in my hand.
“Calli?” he warns, his sleepy voice less than scary as he licks his dry lips.
“You know,” I say, dropping my eyes from his to his Cirillo knife. Each soldier is issued one when they officially join the Family. “I’ve always wondered why I was never good enough to own one of these.”
“Y-you’re—”
“If you tell me it’s because I’m a girl, then I might put yours to really good use sooner than I was intending,” I growl.
“I-I wasn’t going to say that.”
“Good, because it’s bullshit. Stella has one. And I wouldn’t be surprised if Theo has given Emmie one too.”
“They’re both trained to use it.”
“Right,” I mutter. “Once again, I’m too much of an innocent little princess to do something as bad-arse as learn how to use a knife to protect myself. You know, our situation right now would be very different if I’d had even a small amount of the training you’ve had over the years. It’s almost like my dad wanted to make a target out of me.”
“No,” Daemon argues. “That’s not why—”
“I’m not some delicate flower who’s content being locked away, Daemon. I’m more than capable of being a useful part of this family instead of a burden.”
“You’re not a burden, Angel. But trust me, being locked away with you is certainly no hardship.”
I roll my hips against him, and a growl rumbles up his throat.
“So what did you want with me?” he asks, his eyes dilating with desire. Clearly, he’s forgetting that I’m pissed with him.
Fine by me. Two can play at this game.
