Page 35 of Hell’s Weapon

He couldn’t be a demon because it doesn’t work that way, we have to be born, but fuck me he’d look good with wings. Maybe he’d be a harpy shifter.

My fingers move quickly over my clit as I jerk off to thoughts of Wyatt with our strength and power. The heat builds fast and the orgasm crests quickly, which is a good thing as Milo steps back into our room only a few seconds after I finish.

I slam my thighs closed, the thin quilt covering my body but not hiding my position, and whip my hand free from my underwear, wiping my fingers on the sheets discreetly. Even so, I get the feeling Milo knows exactly what I was just doing from the look on his face. He averts his eyes and doesn’t seem to know where to look as his cheeks flush. Wrapping the towel at his waist tighter, he looks back at me, probably not expecting me to still be watching him, and there’s an unmistakable bit of heat to his gaze.

My reaction to that is… surprising. I don’t hate it. In fact I almost want to put more of a show on for him, to see how he’d react. I’m not embarrassed at being caught getting myself off, living in such a small space it was bound to happen. Seeing his eyes light with a little fire makes my clit throb with a jolting aftershock.

I’m spending way too much time around humans.

“Morning,” I say before clearing my throat when it comes out a little croaky.

Milo returns my greeting with a small smile and gives me a little nod, making wet strands of his black hair flop onto his forehead. He pushes it back before he starts moving around to find his clothes.

His chest still has little droplets of water running down it. I’ve seen him topless a few times already because, we are currently living in what equates to a shoebox together, but the water catching in the morning light really makes me take notice.

He’s not very muscular, more sleek than stacked. He has a hint of abs but I think that’s purely because he doesn’t have an ounce of fat on him. It suits him though, his frame is long and willowy, even though he’s not overly tall, barely an inch taller than I am. His skin is untouched, unmarred by any scars or ink, and his chest has only a spattering of dark hair between his pecs, and a fine trail leading from his belly button and into the towel he’s currently got wrapped around his hips. He reminds me of the snow on the Earth plane, there’s a certain innocent beauty to him.

Although, to be here he must be far from innocent.

“I’m going to grab a shower, then shall we head to breakfast?” I say as I haul myself out of bed. I’m definitely going to need several cups of coffee to see me through today.

Milo nods, giving me a thumbs up. I really should start teaching him a few signed phrases so he can communicate easier.

I make a plan to ask him about starting lessons this evening and think about which basics I should start with as I wash last night, and this morning, off my body. The hot spray helps wake me up, the stinging water feeling glorious on my skin. With a good fuck and the opportunity to fly, my muscles feel looser than they have in weeks. The itching between my shoulders has been soothed and I can definitely still feel where Wyatt pounded into me.

Those fucking piercings.

I will absolutely be thinking about those for a while.

Shaking the thoughts from my mind before I need to get myself off again, I rinse and turn the shower off.

There is no doubt in my mind that we shall see some ramifications from the murder last night but nothing can break the happy mood I’m in as I dry and dress. The top is one I’ve not yet ripped so I allow myself a second to let my talons free, the sharp nails extending out of my fingers. Slicing the material I turn the baggy scrub-like top into a boxy crop.

Once I’m dressed and have run my fingers through my hair, which I’ve decided to leave loose today, I head out of the bathroom to find Milo sitting on his bed, a book open in his lap.

He is taking the courses so seriously, it’s quite adorable. I can understand how the humans must find this whole thing beyond their wildest dreams, but Milo seems to be adapting pretty well. He certainly must have read the most out of all of them, and his passion to learn about this realm and all it offers makes me hope he makes it through.

“Shall we go grab breakfast?” Milo jumps as I talk, clearly so absorbed in whatever he’s reading to have noticed my reappearance. He blinks up at me before nodding.

We grab our stuff and go to head out of our room but as I turn the handle, it doesn’t budge. Shaking it a little and pulling harder than I probably should, it remains firmly closed.

“What the fuck?” I glance at Milo who shrugs.

I attempt to open the door again to no avail. Milo gestures for him to try so I step back to let him. He makes sure to press his wristband to the mechanism firmly but it makes no difference.

The door remains locked.

Have we been locked in? Surely the guards would notify us if that was the case? Is our door faulty? It seems unlikely.

This must have something to do with the second killing which occurred last night. I can’t tell Milo about that though, as far as he knows I didn’t leave this floor the entire time.

Huffing loudly as my good mood depletes, I give the door a swift kick before knocking on it loudly. “Hey, anyone out there?”

Silence greets me.

Turning round, Milo has pulled his notepad out of his bag, he’s written are we prisoners again?

“I don’t know,” I tell him. It’s nearly an honest answer. I have no idea what Officer Continues-to-be-a-pain-in-the-cunt has ordered the rest of them to do. If they are going to keep us on a lockdown, however, it is going to make my task almost impossible. “We could go out the window.”