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Oh my god. I feel him release, the hose of his cum pumping into me, which sends aftershocks as powerful as most regular orgasms quaking up and down my spine.
Oh shit. I think I’m in love with one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. My head falls back onto the pillow, and I laugh in a spent daze as Abaddon bows his head between my breasts, his wings falling like a shroud over the both of us.
Chapter Forty-Four
ABADDON
There is something different in Hannah-consort’s eyes when she looks at me ever since I untied her, and we fucked this morning.
I suppose I felt it first in how her legs clutched me to her and then as I took her—as if she did not want to let me go.
And now when she looks at me as we go down for breakfast… there is a smile in her eyes.
No one has ever looked at me this way before.
I would slay entire armies if only to keep that look in her eye.
My cold heart feels warmth it has never known before.
All in the castle notice as well.
I am glad to find it is Romulus present instead of his twin when we reach the main level in search of food.
Unlike his twin, Romulus simply looks first at Hannah-consort, notes her sated expression with surprise, and then at me, and then gives me a single, knowing smirk. But he leaves it at that.
Whereas Thing scampers directly to Hannah-consort. “Are you well? I heard you scream.”
I am furious at him and want to tear off a pair of his arms as I rip him away from her.
But the way she blushes so prettily and voluntarily walks around him back to my side, sliding against my chest underneath the crook of my arm—well it shocks my system with such warmth that my anger instantly dissipates.
The surprise on Thing’s face is also quite satisfactory to me.
“So,” Hannah-consort says, clapping her hands. “Who’s hungry?” She is bubbly and smiling, and if her cheeks are a tad bright, I know that it is our fucking that has put the color there.
I immediately want to take her back upstairs and fuck her again.
But her stomach grumbles with hunger noises. Ah. I must remember. She is carrying my kit, and he is demanding.
“I will blacken you some meat,” I declare.
She squeezes my waist with her delicate arm. “How about I cook?” She blinks up at me in a sweet way with those smiling eyes I cannot deny. Especially with her body all pressed up against me, so warm.
I nod a little dazedly, and Romulus chuckles from somewhere behind me. But then I frown. I do not want her out of my sight, even if I will not worry her by telling her why.
“I will watch.”
She laughs at this, then cocks one beautiful eyebrow. “You could learn a thing or two.”
Which elicits another chuckle from Romulus. Whom I glare at. Since when has he had a sense of humor? Usually he is dour. Only his brother laughs, and what Remus finds funny is usually only the blood of his enemies.
“We all go,” Thing says.
Hannah-consort immediately heads for the stairs, and we all follow, even Romulus.
He just shrugs when I look at him. “I could use some updated cooking lessons. I only know how to cook over an open campfire. And even then, pickings were usually slim when Layden was around.”
“Layden?” Hannah-consort asks, inquiry in her eyes.
“Our other brother,” Thing answers after loping down the stairs and opening the door to the kitchen.
Hannah-consort enters and flips on the lights.
I assume my brothers are smart enough to drop the topic of our lost brother, but Thing wouldn’t know tact if it punched him in the face.
“Layden was Famine’s name. We traveled with armies, and he spread famine in whatever country we passed through.”
My jaw tightens. There’s no need to rehash the past. Especially with my consort right when she has begun to look at me with eyes that don’t see me as a monster.
But apparently her interest has been piqued because she begins to ask one question after another as she pulls out pan after pan.
“So your father made you do those things? What made you finally stop?”
I try to caution Thing with my eyes, but either he does not notice or chooses to ignore me.
“We assumed it was our purpose,” Thing continues recklessly. “Our Creator-Father said it was what we had been created for. And for too many centuries we did not question what he said.”
Hannah-consort moves in a flurry between the refrigerator, the counter, and the stove.
She expertly cracks egg after egg into multiple pans on multiple burners. “So how did you know where to go and who to attack? Just whoever your dad pointed you at?”
Romulus nods, and suddenly he’s in on story-time, too. “We did not see at the time, though, of course I ought to have. I was blinded by Remus’s love of war itself.” He looks down at the tiled floor. “And my own mind loved the chess game of winning each campaign, and on a more molecular level, each battle. Our father knew how to manipulate each of us to keep us too distracted to step back and question the larger picture. Or to question whether or not if he himself was a cause worth following all those years.”
