The man was gifted. In more ways than one.
“Am I wrong?” I heard something slide over the ground, my gaze catching his hand trying to reach me through the bars. “We fuck, princess, and the world thanks us.”
Another snort vaulted from my mouth and nose, my head shaking. “Can’t disagree with you.” I pulled myself closer to the corner, pushing my hand through the bars as far as I could.
The tips of our fingers grazed, and I felt the electricity spark down my arm, going straight to my pussy, forcing my breath to hitch. Our skin was barely in contact, but feeling him, touching him, gave me life. It filled my lungs with more than air.
“You feel like fucking life. Air in my lungs.” Warwick’s sentiment rushed back to me, filling me up and forcing me to chew each syllable like it was food.
Warwick grunted, straining until he wrapped two fingers around mine. The simple act heaved emotion from my gut. My eyes watered, a little whimper escaping from my lips as I held on for dear life, not caring the bars were cutting into my arm.
I had no doubt what I felt for him, what I always had but had been too scared to face. I still was. He wasn’t someone you just loved, simple, sweet, as I had Caden. Warwick demolished and consumed. A love that razed you to the ground, taking the world with you.
His fingers squeezed firmer around mine. And I knew in my gut he felt the same in return. We might not speak it out loud yet, but it was there, sparking between us, tying a firm knot on our survival together or our death.
“Kovacs…” I heard a whisper of breath in my ear.
I let out a quiet cry. Relief. Happiness. It was barely there, but it was enough to know it was coming back. I pushed my shadow toward him with all my strength. It was only a second, but I was with him.
He leaned against the wall, his head tipped back exactly like mine, his eyes shut, a hint of a smile shadowing his mouth.
His eyes popped open as if he could sense me.
“Anytime you want to start on those I.O.U. blowjobs.” He lifted his brow.
A blink and I was back in my cell, the link not strong enough to hold for long yet.
“Or are you hoping for a threesome?” he rasped out, his finger stroking mine.
“So, you’re open to me bringing Scorpion in then?” I pushed up my voice with a hopeful glee, a grin riding over my mouth.
He pinched my hand painfully.
I laughed.
He held onto my fingers before I could jerk them out of his grip. “Think you’re funny, Kovacs?”
“No, I was being perfectly serious. The man is really hot.”
A growl came from the legend, his hand clamping down harder. It was all bullshit. We both knew there would be no one else.
“All your boyfriends combined couldn’t even come close to me.”
Wasn’t that the truth.
“And all the tree fairies, sirens, and snake shifters in the world couldn’t even try to compete with me.”
“Don’t I know it,” he huffed. “You have a fucking leash around my neck, and I not only want it and like it… I need it.”
I frowned. “You don’t have a leash. You freely walk by my side, Wolf.”
The moment the final word came out of my mouth, I felt my body seize, a flash in my head of us together, blood and carnage around us.
The Grey.
The Wolf.
His fingers strangled mine as if he experienced the same thing.
“Kovacs.” A tingle started up my thigh, the lightest touch sliding through my folds.
“Fuck.” My back arched, oxygen catching, my hands rolling into balls, my nails digging into his knuckles.
A noise came from Warwick, filled with dark desire. Carnal.
The invisible ghost of his hands palmed my thighs ever so lightly, pushing them apart, his mouth skimming lightly through me. Even the hint of his touch and my body reacted, pulsing hotly, feeling it spread through my veins. I held onto his actual hand, my lids slamming shut, my nipples hardening, my skin crackling with energy.
“Warwick.” I bit down on my lip, feeling him more prominently with each beat of my heart. His tongue slid in deeper, lips sucking and nipping.
“Oh, gods…” I croaked, my body responding, my hips lifting, pushing against his presence.
My lashes fluttered open, my gaze landing on blurred aqua eyes, glinting with hunger, his fingers teasing my entrance.
Lights abruptly flicked on through the room, like morning had just been turned on by a switch. The air was filled with the sounds of men yelling and metal clanking. I jolted with the sudden harshness, my hand letting go of Warwick’s, slicing through our link with a cleaver. My body screamed with anger, being torn from bliss and plunged into fear in a second, pounding my pulse in my ears.
Scrambling up to my feet, I stood against the far wall. Armed guards came straight down the row for us, the soles of their shoes pounding across the cement in a steady rhythm. A sound that screamed pain and danger. Dread sunk in my stomach, knowing my reprieve was over.
Unlocking my cell, they ripped open the door, barking orders at me. Hands grabbed me. Cuffs circled my wrists. They heaved me out, practically dragging me down the passage.
“Kovacs!”
My head whirled around, catching Warwick’s eyes. His hands circled the bars.
“Whatever it takes.”
It was not a request.
The cluster of guards hauled me a different way than we came yesterday, the underground passage growing brighter with lights the farther we went, reminding me of the passages Ash and I went down to get here.
My head jerked to the side as we passed another set of cells. This one was filled with children, crammed together, all various ages and races, but all fae. The older ones seemed to take on a parental role, holding the younger fae, who could only express their terror through wails. They were all still children, but they looked far past their years. Their eyes were devoid of hope; they were only surviving because that’s what we did. The will to live was built into our DNA.
My gaze searched the single cage, hoping to see the little girl I had seen on the table when Ash and I came in. The one I promised myself I would help.
She wasn’t there.
I knew it already; there was no way she would have survived, but it didn’t stop the wretched sickness from charring the back of my throat and watering my eyes.
A young boy of barely six stretched his skinny arm through the bars, trying to grab one of the guards, whimpering, “Hungry…”
“Get the fuck back—disgusting, dirty fae.” A guard tugged his baton from his belt, banging against the bars. An older girl with feather-like hair yanked the young boy back quick enough; the club missed hitting him. She pulled him to her, glaring at the guard.
Then the little girl’s eyes met mine, her walls still up, but she watched me with curiosity before I was dragged away from them. Acid gurgled in my stomach with heartache and anger, rage sparking adrenaline into my vessels. The feel of energy pumped off my skin.
We turned down another hallway, a set of doors with a card-only entry next to it.
My throat tightened, struggling to swallow, anticipation grinding down my esophagus. A guard swiped his card, the door opening. I knew in my gut what was on the other side, but I still wasn’t prepared for it.
A wheeze cut up my throat, the sensory overload like a gut punch. The loud beeps, machines humming, and pained cries rammed into my ears. My nose picked up on cleaning products, piss, and body odor, while my sight felt overwhelmed by activity, trying to take everything in.