The Legionnaire Games: Day 13, hour 5
No one complained when Corvus ordered us to run more.
The pace picked up.
“Good. I actually wanted to run more,” Arabella said like she was unconcerned.
Corvus snapped back, “Perfect. Now shut the fuck up.”
She gasped with outrage and mumbled about someone named Mitch.
Heat burned my left arm where my Ignis had reached out and gripped me for support. Flames licked against my skin.
I welcomed the burn.
Nine miles later, which made thirty-nine miles total, Corvus ended the run.
All of us were panting, and not a single word had been spoken for the last nine miles. The energy between Corvus and Arabella was volatile.
“We’ll do another thirty miles tomorrow, just for Arabella,” Corvus said darkly. “It’s time for dinner. We can shower afterward.”
His fingertips gently pressed against my back as he guided me forward across the uneven rocks of the island, and I slung my arm around Orion’s shoulder. My Revered melted against me.
I should have been relaxed with my mates surrounding me.
I should have been enjoying the runner’s high, which was my favorite part.
My head swiveled to the side as I listened intently to what was happening behind us.
“Ew, you’re sweaty. Don’t touch me,” Arabella groaned as her sweatshirt rustled.
John’s deeper voice taunted back, “Don’t be such a sissy.”
Grunts and slaps. Arabella laughed loudly as she and John wrestled with each other.
“Stop acting like fools. The angels are watching,” Corvus shouted over his shoulder.
Orion and I weren’t the only ones distracted by our slave.
The angel’s wings flapped distantly, and they were on the other side of the island, too far to be paying attention to us. Corvus was just pissed that John had his grubby hands all over her. I agreed with the sentiment.
“Relax, fire ass,” Arabella muttered, and John choked.
Corvus shouted, “What was that?”
No one spoke for the rest of the walk, not even when we entered the academy.
But from the sweatshirts rustling behind me, the closeness of their steps, and the random bouts of laughter, John still had his arm thrown over Arabella’s shoulder.
It was unacceptable.
My skin itched with the urge to hurt John. I wanted him to bleed. Scream. He’d be an appetizer, then I’d turn my attention to the main course: Arabella. She’d beg me so sweetly. I couldn’t wait to taste her tears.
“Careful,” Corvus said as he pulled me to the side and lightning struck down the walls right where I’d been standing.
I raked my hands through my short hair, agitated by how distracted I was lately. My sadomasochism was flaring up with more frequency.
I was satisfied with hurting anyone: the ungodly, random women at the academy, or new recruits. I wasn’t picky. Usually.
Lately, I’d been fixated on hurting a single person. I thought about her as I trained, ate, showered, jacked off, and slept.
Arabella.
My thoughts always spiraled in the same pattern. I’d give her a reason to forget how to breathe. I’d replace her precious little pipe and give her something thicker to choke on.
I shuddered with anticipation as we went to dinner.
The dining hall buzzed with more energy and commotion than usual because of the five tables that had been set up on the dais for the other legions. Students called our names as we walked past. Men and women alike.
I settled into my usual chair, and a woman touched my arm. “Hey Scorpius, want me to come to your room later?”
The back of my neck prickled with awareness.
Tension tightened in my gut.
Something was wrong.
“No. Leave us,” I snarled at the woman as I tried to concentrate on my surroundings. She said something else, but I ignored her and swore because I couldn’t hear Arabella’s annoying breaths.
The slave tattoo wasn’t acting up, so she couldn’t be far away. It didn’t make me feel any better.
I picked up my table knife, and it creaked as the metal bent.
The room buzzed loudly.
How was I supposed to monitor the idiot and protect my Revered if I couldn’t hear her?
I forced my jaw to unclench and asked Orion, “Where did she go?”
He immediately replied, like he’d been tracking her, “She’s sitting at the shifter table with that pathetic woman she had sex with.”
Corvus growled, and I stiffened.
“Arabella!” Corvus shouted loudly across the hall, and students quieted. “As your team captain, I didn’t give you permission to sit at another legion’s table.”
I loosened my grip as I located her.
Arabella whispered with exasperation, “No, you can’t infect them with your blood. No, it’s fine.”
“You gonna let them treat you like that? Pathetic,” the child they referred to as Jinx countered.
Arabella snapped, “Be careful sweetie, you won’t always have Jax around to protect you.”
“You can’t hurt me,” Jinx said with a finality to her voice that was odd.
From the way Arabella murmured about garden gnomes as she stomped away, she’d missed the strange inflection.
I rolled my eyes at how oblivious she was as she huffed and threw herself into the seat across from me.
My shoulders relaxed, and I resumed counting her breaths.
Ten minutes later, all calmness was gone, and I seethed with rage.
“You’re not eating,” I snarled at her.
There was a pause, then she said vehemently, “I will shove this fork so far up your ass if you even think about trying to force-feed me again.”
I choked on a piece of meat and tried to ignore the way my body came to life at that statement.
If only she knew, she was talking to a sadomasochist.
She’d watch her words more carefully.
“Also,” she said haughtily, “If you try any more food bullshit, you won’t just have me to deal with. Sadie will interfere and destroy you.”
Her fiery words sent a shiver down my spine. The urge to hurt her until she whimpered meekly overwhelmed me. Would she moan breathily, or would she screech with outrage to cover her whimpers of enjoyment?
No.
I wouldn’t think about it.
The fork bent beneath my grip, and I dug my nails deeper into my palm. The sharp bite of pain calmed me. “You still need to eat,” I said dismissively like I didn’t give a shit what she said.
“I am.” Arabella smacked her lips aggressively so I could hear her chewing, but she didn’t swallow.
She was such an idiot.
If I weren’t so hyperfocused on every sound she made, I would have missed the soft squishing sound next to her foot.
I cocked my head to the side to listen harder.
Arabella smacked her lips louder.
Splat. Another thing dropped next to her foot.
Now that my mate song wasn’t interfering, I could hear minutiae I must have missed before. I sat up straighter and leaned forward. “What did you just drop under the table?” I asked her.
“What did she do?” Corvus leaned closer.
“Calm down,” John said, and I knew from the defensive tone of his voice that he was covering for her.
Arabella huffed, “Nothing,” and counted odd numbers under her breath.
The chair beside me squeaked as Corvus looked under the table.
The temperature at the table increased.
His voice was deadly. “Why is there a pile of meat beside your chair?”
I sat straighter with incredulity because I’d known there was something off about Arabella’s eating pattern.
“You will eat meat to retain your strength,” I ordered.
She scoffed and tapped her foot. “I don’t negotiate with slavers.”
“Good thing it’s not a negotiation.” I lunged across the table and wrapped my fingers around her throat.
Ever so slowly I dragged my callused thumb across the smooth planes of her neck. Her skin was impossibly delicate.
She shivered beneath my touch, and I masked a similar response.
I moved up to her jawline.
Arabella held her breath, and anticipation unfurled in my gut. I’d wanted to touch her face ever since I’d shoved my thumb into her mouth and she’d sucked it wantonly.
The feeling had been obscene.
This time, I touched her face because I wanted to feel for myself how different she was as a woman. I didn’t need to touch her to know what she looked like; it was an ownership thing. A marking. To let her know what it would feel like when I rubbed my bodily fluids all over her.
Her chin was delicate. I dragged my nails up to her cheekbones and made sure they pinched her skin lightly as I felt her lips.
Her mouth was lusher than Orion’s, and her lower lip was ridiculously full.
I felt a scab and frowned.
Had she been picking at her lip? Was that the scratching sound I hadn’t been able to place? I’d deal with that later.
For now, I forced my fingers upward and couldn’t hold back a scoff. Her nose was a ridiculously small thing with a gentle slope. Long, soft lashes fluttered as I slowly traced her eyes.
Orion was right; the enchantment had disguised how large they were.
She had doe eyes.
My fingers were featherlight across her eyelids. Sooty lashes fluttered and sent little pinpricks of sensitivity shooting into my groin. I smirked and leaned forward. “Hideous. Just like I thought.”
My fingers grasped at empty air as she wrenched away from me and said, “You don’t get to touch me without permission.”
I chuckled and sat back with my arms crossed like I didn’t have a care in the world, even though my fingers still buzzed with the rush of touching her.
She might act unaffected, but I knew my words got to her.
“Tsk, tsk,” I said sarcastically. “I own you, Arabella. You don’t make the rules.”
Her breath hitched when I said her name.
I smiled. I liked that she hated it. Liked that I could get on her nerves so easily.
If only she knew how badly I could torment her.
How intoxicating I could make it.
How fucking obsessed she’d be.
I’d never been the white-knight type—the devil society that had tortured me while I grew up for being blind had ensured that—but fuck, I wanted to be Arabella’s villain.
I wanted her to cry my name in her sleep as she trembled from fear. Convulsed with it. Moaned with it. Choked on it.
I leaned back further in my seat and smirked. “Eat your meat like a good slave.”
She didn’t snap back like I expected. Instead, Arabella’s voice was monotone. “No,” she said with no inflection.
“Do it,” I snarled.
Silence.
I heard a rustling but nothing else.
“What is she doing?” I whispered to Orion.
My Revered said, “Flipping you off with both her fingers. Now she’s miming shooting you with a finger gun. Wait, now she’s holding her arm out straight and hitting her inner elbow and pulling her arm up. She just picked up a piece of meat, then stabbed her knife through it. I think she’s pretending it’s you. Now she’s—”
“Enough,” I cut him off.
At this point, she was begging for me to hurt her.
I tensed my muscles, ready to throw myself at her and drag her to the floor.
“The other legions are staring at us. Stop acting so embarrassing,” Zenith hissed, and I jolted with surprise.
The demons usually minded their own business.
“He’s right,” Corvus said through gritted teeth like it pained him to admit it.
Arabella and I both huffed, but neither of us did anything else.
I pretended to ignore her the rest of the meal, while discreetly piling food onto her plate whenever I heard her fork scrape against the empty surface.
Using my superior sense of smell, I avoided the meat because she was clearly being unreasonable about it. I didn’t like how delicate her neck had felt. It didn’t matter that she was a tall woman; she felt breakable.
It was like Orion said.
And it was unacceptable.
I needed her strong so I could break her. No one else was allowed to hurt her.
As the meal progressed, I pretended I didn’t notice that Arabella took forty-three bites of food and dropped ten pieces of meat onto the ground.
I pretended she didn’t touch John three times, whisper to him eighteen times, and pick at the scab on her lip seventeen times.
I pretended she didn’t take thirty-seven puffs of her pipe and forget to breathe four times.
Arabella was just so loud compared to everyone else. That was it.
She made a breathy noise of enjoyment as she bit into something, and I shivered as I adjusted my sweatpants.
Would she groan with pleasure as I dragged a knife across her flesh?
I knew I would.
And I couldn’t wait.
It was only a matter of time. After all, she belonged to us.
