Werewolf



I had chosen violence.

Darkness. 

The path of indulgence. 

My body thrummed with power, excitement coating my bones. The uncertainty of my future appealed to me. The archangels arrived at the beach a few days ago, right in the spot I invoked Asmodeus, declaring myself in allegiance with him. A bright missile of light only we could see collided in the sand. 

Asmodeus knew the path they would follow. First the beach and the decimated book, then my apartment where proof of my rage was all over the sidewalk. Then to Maxine's where they'd find evidence of Asmodeus. Bill's violent death could only be the product of a demon's vengefulness. 

Oddly enough, it wasn't the archangels who found the club, it was the archdemons. Lilith's children. She could feel them miles away, giving us time to leave before they arrived.

We didn't have much longer in Los Angeles. 

But I wasn't done here yet.



Nine Lives was a strip club on the edge of 107th and hell, and that was me being generous about the location. It was also the place I'd been calling my second home for the past three years.



"This bitch must think I'm all kinds of stupid!"



Bianca Quinn—self-proclaimed queen of Nine Lives—tossed her faux diamond earrings onto her vanity with a toss of her manicured hand, the lights flickering in the wake of her anger. Sirens had a hard time keeping their electromagnetic fields in check during times of high stress, and Bianca wasn't an exception just because she was half. She flipped her head back, locks shifting from blood-red ringlets to her more natural blue-black straightness.



The other girls scattered to the wings of the Ready Room, trying to avoid her bad mood. They knew what would happen if Bianca locked electric blue eyes on them. Instead, the other strippers preoccupied 



"Only after I taste you," I demanded, a grin on my lips.

Without hesitation, he cupped the back of my neck and slanted his lips against mine. His hot breath puffed against my face as he devoured my mouth. His body tensed with eagerness, hovering over mine.

He poured himself into that kiss. The way his tongue danced with mine. I could taste everything. The sultry sweetness of power.

The unique tang of experience. 

The spicy heat of his passion. 

The bitterness of pain. Eons of anguish. 

Darkness under the surface. Decadent and savory. Smooth like butter. As enticing as the rest of him. The vengefulness tasted even sweeter than his power.

I gave him back everything he gave me. Hoping he could taste everything I hid under the surface like I could taste him. He moaned against my mouth, drinking me in. 

He wedged himself between my legs and I could feel his heavy cock pressing hard against me, teasing me through my clothes. I arched upwards, desperate to grind against him. A whimper slipped past my lips, giving away how badly I wanted him.

As if he couldn't already tell by how I melted into the sheets, pliant and ready.

He broke the kiss, the golden irises darkening with desire. So fucking beautiful, but I didn't feel lesser. He stared back at me like I was the culmination of centuries of waiting. 

Waiting for me.

My mind became hazy with lust, mouth watering at how I yearned for him. He lowered his head, attacking me with his mouth, imprinting me with his tongue and teeth.

"Give me more," I murmured, offering him more of my throat.

Instantly, he drew back, darkness swirling in his eyes. There was a coy delight there. A playfulness he only revealed when he knew he'd get what he wanted. He pinched my chin between his fingers. 

My face felt flushed. Hot to the touch. What would turn me on even more is if he looked down at me with his real face. My chest tightened, but I matched his playfulness. "Why don't you hang up your face for me? Must be so heavy to carry it around all the time."

"You have no idea." His dimples were the only thing that stayed the same as he morphed into his real form, the bed dipping under the sudden weight. His hair tickled my face, framing his ethereal face, a scar splitting his lip around a toothy smile. "Satisfied?"

I had never been this forward in my life. But Asmodeus released me from my internal prison. Let me thrive beneath my skin. I wasn't afraid to tell him what I wanted. "Oh, yes," I replied.

He slipped off my body to undress from his brimstone-like armor. I sat up, watching him with delight. Noticing him discard a heavy broadsword with a loud thump against the floor.

"Do you always carry a sword?" I asked, eyes not leaving his muscular chest, watching his scarred arms flex with every movement. Wanting to take a bite out of them. Mark him with my teeth. 

He paused, a smile still present on his lips. "Usually. Effective against angels, demons and splattering mortals out of this realm and into the next." 

I laughed, the sound feeling nearly foreign to me, but I liked it. "Is that a sense of humor?" 

Finally absolving himself of all clothing, he lifted a single finger to his lips. If it wasn't for the horns or wings, or ridiculous height, I'd say he looked almost human. I bit back another smile, enjoying this side of him. 

His eyes slid up and down my body, still clothed and his grin became predatory. Different than before. Even with sharper teeth, I no longer felt like a lamb before a lion, a bunny before a wolf, I was a woman before a man who wanted her.

But it was more than want.

The word want didn't begin to describe how I felt about him. 

A bond had formed between us. I yearned for him. Desired him. Pined after him.

Needed him.

An attachment as natural as the air I breathed.

It would break me. I knew it would. Only this time I wouldn't recover. He would devour me. Extend his jaws and swallow me whole. 

I would beg him to.

As soon as he did, I would be a part of him forever. If I wasn't strong enough to march through the Gates of Hell beside him, then I'd want him to send me there.

It felt complicated and simple at the same time. 

Then an idea struck me, is this how love felt?

An infatuation so powerful I would gladly hand him my own beating heart. He had all the power to crush it, but he wouldn't. He'd watch it pump me with life and keep it safe for me. If he was stolen from me, he'd take it away with him.

My beating heart would wither and die.

There was no me without Asmodeus.

And he was nothing without me.

The words bubbled up inside me. Foaming with a violence. Needing out. Needing to be spoken into reality. I stared at him, my fingertips sliding along the bottom of my shirt as I pulled it off my head.  

The hunger in his eyes set me off. Fondness circled the dark depths of his pupils. Did he feel this attachment as strongly as I did?

The playfulness left me. Emotions building inside. I felt ravenous. Like I hadn't been fed in weeks. I stood up from the bed, stalking toward him like a feral predator. My pants puddled around my ankles.

The cool breeze of the room did nothing to smother the heat. I was on fire. Smoldering with passion.

He told me he wanted to have me. Possess me completely. 

I couldn't take it anymore. It all felt like too much. I couldn't stop myself from throwing myself at his feet, bowing my head not unlike a prayer. My chest tightened. Throat thickening.

"I love you," I whispered shakily, my heart thundering in my chest.

He was silent. Then I felt his long fingers stroke the top of my head. Like I had earlier, he wove his fingers through my hair right to the scalp. Then he fisted my hair, dragging me up to my feet. I met his honey eyes, frothing with power.

"Listen to me closely, darling."

Darling…not pet.

"I want the world to bow at my feet," he backed us up, back to the bed, and released my hair. "But never you. Look me in the eye when you tell me you love me."

My chest rose and fell rapidly as I gazed up at him. I squared at my shoulders and with conviction, I repeated, "I love you."

He tilted his head to the side, letting my words wash over him and settle on his skin. He didn't say them back to me. Perhaps he didn't understand such a human notion as love. But as I looked past him to the painting of the battered tree, I knew he felt some form of it for me too. 

I didn't need to hear him say it back.

Every other time someone told me they loved me, it was to take something from me. To use me. Make me feel guilty enough to let someone in. 

He didn't need to say them, not when I could feel it. 

A firm arm wound around my waist as he leaned down to capture my mouth again. Stealing my breath with his kiss. His heavy cock pressed against my belly, hot with slickness gathering at the tip. 

My bare skin pricked, pleasure rising all over me. When my eyes fluttered closed we fell backward onto the bed, knotting together like threads woven by the masterful hands of something much greater than either of us. 

I glided my hands over his arms, enjoying how he felt on top of me. A cocoon-like warmth as he slid between my legs. 

As hungry as we both were, this time sex wasn't only about feeding, filling an ache. It was about feeling. Knowing it was more than my body. We chose each other. Fingers prodded my core, gliding through the folds, feeling just how wet I was for him.

I moaned against his mouth as he used two fingers to curl against my insides. He knew my body better than I did, sliding along the ridge inside, making lights dance in front of my vision. I cried out as he stroked me deeply, slowly.

He enjoyed how I writhed underneath him. At his mercy. His rhythm picked up, fucking me brutally with his fingers. He leaned back, watching my face contort in pleasure. My legs clamped around his arm, simultaneously bringing him closer while trying to shut him out.

His eyes were nothing but a golden ring surrounding darkness. "I've sensed a change in you, Adira."

I couldn't focus on his words, not with how his fingers dove into me, trying to rip an orgasm out of me. I gasped, wriggling my hips, arching them upwards as he played with my body. 

"I've tasted it on your breath. I feel it in how you squeeze my fingers. You're changing," he stated, watching me with eagerness glinting in his eyes. "You're becoming like me."

"What do you mean?" I panted, mind swimming in desire, barely coherent enough to form a sentence.

"I noticed the last time we were together. A hint of something hungry beneath the surface. You've hidden it well. But it's stronger now." His eyes glided down to the glistening slickness between my thighs, licking his lips. "It excites me. I don't know what you are, Adira. But I can't wait to see what you become."

My back arched, a shrill whine leaving my lips as he slid his thumb to my clit, stroking it much more gently than he thrust his fingers. It wasn't enough. I needed more. My eyes flickered down to his massive erection.

Aching for it.

Needing to feel him stretch me. 

I moved helplessly under him. Trying to find the edge, eager to jump from it, but I couldn't get there. His lips pulled into a wolfish grin. He knew what he was doing. Making me pant and writhe. Dangling me right on the precipice of a cliff, lurching me back when I got too close.

"Get inside of me," I gasped, arching my back against the silk sheets.

"What have I said about demands?" he teased, not stopping.

"Stop playing," I pleaded, this cavernous ache only getting bigger. Craving him with a painful vengeance. 

He stretched his body over mine. I moaned as he left a wet trail down my stomach. The wet crown of his cock pressed against my thigh. "But I like playing."

My hands snapped up, gripping his silky hair between my fingers. "You have forever to play with me. But now…now I need you to have me."

No more waiting. No more playing. He removed his fingers, replacing them with something much larger. My eyelids fluttered, pleasure igniting all over my body as I had him. Felt him everywhere. 

Stretching to accommodate him. I winced briefly at the initial pinch, but it was over as soon as it started. "Come here," I hissed, pulling his head down to my mouth, inhaling his pleasure just as he took mine. 

We morphed together. Entangling into something powerful. The ache inside of me grew as he pounded against me, thrusting hard against the bed. My eyes rolled back into oblivion, nails biting into his large shoulders.

I couldn't tell which one of us was making more noise. He panted, growling like an animal before briefly pulling out of me and flipping me onto my stomach. Excitement speared through me, pleasure engulfing every inch of me as he pulled me onto my knees, fucking me face down into the pillows.

I didn't want sex to be sweet. I wanted it to be like this every time. 

Primal and violent. Like a fight. Biting and clawing. Vicious like two creatures demanding submission from the other.   

I lost any sense of myself as he inhaled the energy rolling off of us. He pounded into me even harder, sliding his nails so hard against my back, I swore he drew blood. I screamed and I didn't even sound like myself. 

We moved against each other.

Giving and taking. 

Push and pull.

Sweat glistened across our bodies when we finally reached the peak, dangling over the edge of this cavernous ache before I let him push me into it. Falling into bliss. But I took him with me, clamping hard around his cock. Pulsing and dragging him to an orgasm.

His forehead pressed against my back when he let go, spasming inside of me in tune with the waves overtaking my body. I don't know how long we rode it out, suspended in mind-bending pleasure, getting our fill.  

Sating the hunger before finally crashing down together. I was gasping, flat on my belly, unable to get enough air into my lungs. He lay next to me, curling an arm around my waist and pulling me flush against his chest.

His warmth eased the pressure inside and my breaths became easier until I melted into his arms. The sensation of his body wrapped around mine startled me. I wasn't used to feeling shielded. 

Protected.

But I liked it. I would chase this feeling into the depths of Hell.

His breath puffed against my ear, "I sliced off my brother's wings." 

I turned into his chest as he continued to trace invisible lines up and down my arms. 

"It's been a few centuries, but wings don't grow back. I was masquerading as King Solomon and several archangels tried to drag me to Hell. Lock me back inside my prison. I wasn't going to go back."

"So you defended yourself?"

"You would think that…but I miscalculated my attack. All six of my brothers fought beside me and I was grappling with Raphael. He moved at the last minute and I severed Lucifer's wings," he said quietly. Guiltily.

"It was an accident," I replied, stroking the soft feathers of one of his wings.

"An accident that condemned him to a prison from which he can never escape. He's been there for centuries…the only brother that's forgiven me was Seb. Lucifer became so volatile over the years that Lilith sought me out, hiding with me."

"I'm sorry, Asmodeus," I whispered, unable to say anything else to make the situation any better.

"You need to know who we'll be up against. Not just the archangels eager to drop me back into Hell, but also my brothers seeking their pound of flesh. If Lucifer is able to find his way out, he'll come for me first. Especially if they know about you…which I suspect they already do."   

I tilted my head to the side, eyeing him closely. "Is that really why you sent for me?"

"We don't have long, Adira."

I nodded, pressing my face against the crook of his arm, seeking more of that warmth. "We have tonight."

He hummed, his chest rumbling, pulling me into a tighter hold as he replied, "We have tonight."












I had chosen violence.
Darkness. 
The path of indulgence. 
My body thrummed with power, excitement coating my bones. The uncertainty of my future appealed to me. The archangels arrived at the beach a few days ago, right in the spot I invoked Asmodeus, declaring myself in allegiance with him. A bright missile of light only we could see collided in the sand. 
Asmodeus knew the path they would follow. First the beach and the decimated book, then my apartment where proof of my rage was all over the sidewalk. Then to Maxine's where they'd find evidence of Asmodeus. Bill's violent death could only be the product of a demon's vengefulness. 
Oddly enough, it wasn't the archangels who found the club, it was the archdemons. Lilith's children. She could feel them miles away, giving us time to leave before they arrived.
We didn't have much longer in Los Angeles. 
But I wasn't done here yet.
The angels have tormented Asmodeus since the rebellion, and if they wanted him to go quietly

Chapter 20 : Loose Ends