Page 95 of Her Soul for Revenge
My eyes widened as I looked at it and nodded. “Dragon fire? Do you mean…do you meanreal…?”
Vian nodded, and Zane did too. Somehow, dragons actually existing managed to shock me, even after all the other shit I’d seen.
“It’s perfect,” I said.
Vian’s smile widened at my nod, and they turned back to the demons gathered around and said excitedly, “Zane has brought a human to get her metal.”
Every demon there immediately perked up. The ones in chains strained eagerly against their bounds, ready for a show, and those gathered at the edges pressed a little closer. I’d loved what we’d done earlier, I’d loved knowing that those dancing around us had watched Zane pleasure me. But now, I was faced with the anticipation of pain and the eager gazes of dozens. Above us, on the upper walkways, even more demons leaned over to get a better look.
“We don’t have to do it here,” Zane said softly, holding me close from behind. “It can be private, if you want.”
I took a deep breath and turned toward him. “No. I want them to see. I want them toknow.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing my body closer to his. “I want them all to know I belong to you.”
He grinned, and I felt a hard, eager throb beneath his trousers. “Yeah? Shall we put on a show for them, love?”
“One they won’t forget.”
Vian turned back to us, this time offering a leather pouch. “Your equipment,” they said, handing it to Zane and giving me a wink. Within the pouch were sterilized needles of varying gauges and metal clamps.
“Everyone seems so excited,” I whispered.
Vian nodded. “Getting a mark, bestowing your metal upon another, is considered celebratory even when it’s a private occasion,” they said. “But when it’s public? We eat that shit up. The tension, the blood, the pain, the ecstasy…” They chuckled softly. “This is what we live for.”
The excitement was infectious. It rippled through the air, sending chills over my skin. The crowd began to murmur, and the music was a low, throbbing beat that thrummed through my body like a pulse. Zane grasped my face, blocking out everything around me for a few moments.
“Remember to talk to me,” he said. “If you’re overwhelmed, if it’s too much, you tell me.”
“I’ll tell you,” I said. “I won’t just grin and bear it if you piss me off.” I wasn’t sure which I felt more strongly: the fear or the excitement. I lowered my voice, and added, “I trust you, Zane.”
He kissed me deeply, roughly. I could feel the metal in his own tongue in that kiss, and it made my abdomen tighten with anticipation. He grabbed my ass, squeezed, and then turned me toward the crowd and forced me down to my knees.
I let out a slow, trembling breath as I knelt there. Zane leaned down and kissed my temple, his teeth snapping together hungrily near my ear. Then slowly, he pulled open my unbuttoned shirt. He pulled it down my arms, kissing my shoulders and my back with every inch he eased it down.
I’d never let so many people see my scars before. I’d always hidden them. Even after I got the tattoos, I still rarely wore anything that would allow a stranger’s eyes to glimpse my chest.
I’d been ashamed of those scars for so long. I’d had to bear the marks of someone else’s violence, someone else’s cruelty, for so long. And every time I looked in the mirror, it became a reminder of what they’d done, a reminder that my will had been overtaken, that I’d been used, that my life had been reduced to insignificance.
But Kent Hadleigh was dead. These scars were my own. I didn’t feel such horror when I looked at them now. I didn’t feel such hatred for myself when I saw them.
I didn’t have to be ashamed of what had happened. I’d been brave. I’d survived. I’d gotten this fucking far.
I took a deep breath and loosened my nerves. I forced out the instant urge to cover myself, the automatic twitch that told me to hide. It wasn’t looks of disgust I saw around me: it was lust, awe, hunger, envy. And as Zane walked around in front of me, I saw pure adoration.
He crouched down, brushing my hair out of my face. He ran his claws over my chest, following the lines of my tattoos and then bringing his lips down to kiss my scars, and whispered, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I shuddered under his touches, gasping as he found every little spot that made me weak. Right beneath my ear, the hollow of my collarbone, my inner wrist — he kissed, and licked, and nipped with his teeth. Every tiny touch, no matter how soft, awakened my body and sent my nerves into high alert. My face was growing hotter, and more eyes were lingering now, more demons pausing to watch me. I spotted more humans amongst the crowd too: not only Sadie, standing next to Hana, but men and women who watched me with wide eyes, fascinated and fearful, envious and longing.
“Do you see the way they look at you, Juni?” Zane’s voice tickled in my ear as he moved behind me, grasped my hair close to my scalp, and pulled me up from resting on my heels to my knees. “They long for you. Some of them wish they were you. And I’m honored you’d kneel for me.”
I looked back at him, and reached up my hand to trace my fingers over my name on his chest. A jagged, messy scar — not unlike mine. Not unlikeme.
“Before I hurt you, love, I’m going to pleasure you.” He tugged my head back, dragging his claws along my exposed throat. Then he shoved me down, my face to the ground and my ass in the air. He tugged down my trousers and pulled them off my legs as I remained in position. My face was blazing hot — embarrassed but eager, nervous but excited.
Only my panties covered me now. Zane’s fingers rubbed over the cloth, lingering where my arousal had dampened it. Then they traced down my thighs, appreciatively squeezing me, causing goosebumps to spread over my skin.
“Fuck, you smell so good.”
Murmurs of affirmation rippled through the crowd and my face grew even hotter. God, I’d gotten used to Zane saying he could smell my arousal — but theyallcould. There was no hiding it from them, no pretending I wasn’t absolutely dripping over what was about to happen.