Page 13 of Devour

Little Heathen: Only if you’re any fucking good.

I grind my teeth over the fact that other men have had her besides me. But she won’t remember their fucking names once I’ve made her mine. Even if she does, I’ll make her give me a list of any that are still alive.

Me: Every time you talk back, I’m chaining you in my room for an entire week.

“Are you going to drive, or are you going to sext your girl while we sit here with a corpse?” Priest puts his phone away. “Because I’d like to shower, jack off, and get some fucking sleep.”

I pat my pocket with Saylor’s panties in it. Sounds like a fucking plan.

CHAPTER 6

SAYLOR

Iwake up hungover with my face smashed into a pillow, and I immediately notice how sore I am between my legs. My vibrator is still on the bed beside me. It must have been put to good use last night after I drank a couple bottles of wine with my best friend. After Kynlee and I finally decided to go to bed, I was so fucking horny. Thank fuck she slept in one of the guest rooms.

Fucking Axl. He’s got my body all worked up, and he won’t let me have a good fuck.

The sun is bright behind my curtains, and it’s making my head pound. My mouth is dry, and I can still taste the wine.

I toss my vibrator in the drawer by my bed and grab my phone from the nightstand. I squint from the light of the screen and turn down the brightness. At least if I had one of my nightmares last night, I don’t remember it. I’ll take it.

There are three texts from My King.

I stare at the name he typed in my phone. These Talons walk around like they’re gods, when really, they’re just the Council’s bitches. But because they have dicks, they have more power than us women do. Welcome to the Ravens.

I click the notification to read his messages.

My King: You better be sleeping and not touching yourself.

Too fucking late.

My King: I’ll punish you for every orgasm you have without asking my permission.

I don’t know if I got off or not, since I was too fucking drunk to remember. But I’m not going to tattle on myself for trying.

My King: Three weeks, little heathen.

This man wants me, to the extreme of killing men to keep them from touching me. He’s obsessed. And that makes me powerful.

I grin at my phone. And I fucking hate that I’m letting myself be that girl. This is how it starts—some man makes you feel like you’re the center of his world, and then you find out you’re just a piece on the board of whatever game he’s playing. I’ve watched my mother and father play that game my entire life.

I don’t text him back. I won’t be that bitch who hangs on his every word. He can fucking work for it. Let him check that tracking app I know he installed on my phone and wonder what I’m doing. I haven’t deleted it. I probably should, but a part of me likes knowing he’s watching.

Let him see all my mommy and daddy issues on full display.

I sit up in my bed and wince in pain. My body is sore. I need water, coffee, and enough ibuprofen to kill whatever is pounding in my head.

I pull my hair into a messy bun and swing my legs off the bed. I’m in an oversized t-shirt and nothing else. I realize I must have ditched my underwear too.

My door flies open and hits the wall.

“Good morning, slut.” Kynlee throws herself face first onto my bed and groans into my comforter. Her dark hair is everywhere, and she’s wearing one of my sleep shirts that covers her thighs. “Why is every room in this house so fucking bright?”

I chuckle. “You look half dead.”

“Fuck you.” She rolls onto her back and throws her arm over her eyes. “Why’d you let me drink that much? I haven’t felt this hungover in a long time, and we didn’t even mix it with anything fun.”

Kynlee and I have experimented with a variety of drugs. When you have money and absentee parents, you chase whatever excitement you can get. We’ve always liked to party and have fun with guys. Some would call us sluts even though sluts actually get to fuck. Axl cockblocks me at every turn.