Page 22 of Naughty

Red shakes his and continues in his pursuit.

"If she is still alive, you're no good to us in this state. Think man!" He points to Noel, his lips twisted up in a sneer. "She could be lying to us to get you to lose your shit. You're going to believe her word over ours?" Asmon grabs Red by the jaw, forcing him to look away from Noel. "I thought she was my one. Until I met Caitlin, Angelica was all I could think about. If she's not dead, we've all been deceived."

Though his breathing is ragged, Red seems to calm down. The murderous intent in his eyes gives way to pure sorrow. Shrugging Asmon off, Red glares at me one more time before storming out of the room. I look over at Asmon. The firm set of his jaw and squared shoulders give away just how tightly he's holding his reins. After a few moments, his fur dissipates, and only his horns remain.

"Did you know?"

I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak. I knew we didn't part on good terms, but I didn't think she'd end up like that. Noel has to be lying. For all our sakes, I pray to the Fathers that she is. Asmon edges towards her, keeping both of us in his sights.

"She could still be lying. I don't want to believe anything until I see it with my own eyes."

Noel's lips curl up into a feral grin.

"That can be arraigned. A private viewing for Father Christmas and his dog."

A growl hums low in his throat. This time, I'm the one to drive a wedge in between them. Asmon pulls me back and whispers into my ear.

"This isn't her. Something is not right. Remember Caitlin?"

My eyes widen as I watch my elf prance about the room, her eyes cold and calculating as she looks at us. Long gone is that pliant, submissive woman I longed to bury myself into. In her place is a person I can't even fathom knowing.

"You're right. Perhaps she'll faint soon. That's what happened after Caitlin got her freak on -."

I stop as I see Asmon glaring down at me. Perhaps it's still too soon to joke about all of that. "A few minutes after you left, that's when she fainted." Frowning, I look over at Noel. She doesn't show any sign of stopping. "Perhaps this batch takes longer?"

Her peal of laughter sends skitters up and down my spine. My teeth ache from the saccharin dripping from her lips.

"Oh, Kris. You still think you're in control of the situation? Poor thing. It's about time someone disillusioned you." She pauses for a moment and tilts her head. "By the way, Kris. Thank you for taking my bait. I knew you couldn't resist my body. Manwhore that you are."

"Maybe I can knock her out?"

"Maybe I can jingle your bells. Are you crazy? You touch her, and I might kill you!"

Asmon laughs and shakes his head. "Even after she called you a manwhore? You may have your magic, but you'll never best me on brute strength."

"Just know this," Noel hisses, her eyes narrowed into slits. "You're wrong about me being your mate. I could never love someone like you."

A shaft of pain pierces my heart at those words. But she's right. If I'm completely honest with myself, why would anyone want to love me? I clutch my head as all the pain and resentment rises to the surface. So many things could have been different if I just got my head out of my ass and cared for others for once.

The one thing I won't apologize for, however, is the time I spent with Noel in my arms. Once she can snap out of this, maybe we can actually be happy together. Asmon jostles me with his elbow, forcing me out of my thoughts.

We both sober as Noel drifts nearer to us. I only have one shot at taking control of her. As she gets within arm’s reach, I yank her over to me and lay my palm against her forehead. Sending a spiral of magic into her, I watch with relief as her eyes flutter closed, and she goes limp in my arms. Clutching her close, I run my nose along her neck, inhaling deeply. My mate is finally safe in my arms.

"Give her to me."

Twisting away, I grasp her firmer. "You can have her when I'm dead."

"Listen to yourself. I have a mate. Why would I want yours? I'm getting her out of here and somewhere safe. You deal with Ein Hexenmeister."

I shake my head and look down at my elf. She's so small and weak in my arms. Hugging her close, I brush my lips against her temple before handing her off. As Asmon peels her from my arms, the cool air in the room alerts me to an odd liquid where her back was.

Asmon eases her off of me, and I stare in horror at the faint pink lines down her back. The dress sticks to her, showing each and every stripe. My hands clench and release. The bruise was bad enough, but this is unforgivable.

"I've got her. Let me take her to Northport, and I'll -."

I glare up at him. The thought of Asmon touching her, taking care of her. No. That is unacceptable.

"Caitlin will take care of her."