Mia stood in the middle of her new apartment. It was huge, modern…cold.

She liked color, not that she’d gone crazy with a paintbrush at any of her other places, but still. Whoever decorated the place really had a thing for the whole minimalist vibe. White walls, big black marble fireplace, white carpet, and an oversized black leather couch. She kind of wished she was back in her tiny apartment—at least there she didn’t feel like a guest in her own home. None of the furniture was hers, and yeah, it was the nicest place she’d ever stayed, but it was just another place to sit and wait, wait for her real life to begin.

Her plans to move to Chicago were on hold indefinitely, at least until this power block thing cleared itself up, or was released, or unlocked, or whatever the hell had to happen so she could leave Roxburgh behind her.

After lugging her suitcase into the bedroom, she dumped it on the bed, flipped it open, and emptied it into the black lacquer dresser. Her very un-designer clothes looked about as out of place in the expensive-looking piece as she felt in the apartment.

Did Zenon have a place like this, a place to escape? She’d looked in every open door, down every hall, hoping for a glimpse of him as she’d left, even though she knew she shouldn’t, had promised herself she wouldn’t.

But that kiss.

She didn’t get it, didn’t understand how one minute he was shoving her away, telling her he didn’t want her, then the next pinning her to the wall, surrounding her, making her feel more desired, more wanted than she had her entire life.

She had to stop thinking about him. Yes, he’d kissed her, but he’d also made it clear that was all they would share. She hadn’t glimpsed him on her way out because he’d made sure he wasn’t around. That was for the best. It was.

All she knew was that she had to work out how to unlock this block on her powers so the knights would take her off their radar. Then she could put this all behind her—move on.

This thing, this pull she felt toward Zenon made no sense and went way beyond her fascination with the wild and untamed. Maybe it was some kind of hero worship? She’d fantasized about what the knights might be like, long before her sister came into her power, then she’d heard so much about them from Chaya after she had. She could admit to a small—okay, massive—amount of curiosity in regards to the half demon, half angel warriors entrusted with keeping not just her kind safe but humans as well.

But if that was the case, why Zenon? Why not Rocco or Chaos? It wasn’t like he was open or even friendly.

She shook her head. Enough turning this over and over in her mind. She had a bed to make and dinner to prepare. Tomorrow she’d start the hunt for a new job. She didn’t know how long she’d be stuck there, and living off the knights didn’t sit well with her. She paid her own way. Always had.

Dinner consisted of a grilled cheese sandwich and a can of Diet Coke, and after a quick text to Chaya, she showered, pulled on a pair of boxers and an old T-shirt that was worn and soft, and got ready for bed.

Her bedroom felt huge. It really was an amazing apartment, but she felt like a fish out of water in all this luxury. She could appreciate it, but it wasn’t her.

When she flicked off the lamp, lights from the city drew her to the small balcony off her room. Slipping on a sweater, she pulled open the doors and stepped out. The air was crisp and she wrapped her arms around herself. The light breeze ruffled her hair, making her shiver. Sounds of a city alive and humming drifted up to surround her.

She’d never felt more alone in her life.

Leaning against the railing, she looked down at people walking along the sidewalk, mice scurrying to their next destination. They had a purpose, a life. She should be with Chaya in Chicago right now. Instead she was stuck. Stuck in a city she didn’t know. Stuck in limbo. Again.

Then it all became too much, pressing down on her, a crushing weight she had no hope of escaping.

She didn’t hold back, let the emotion of the last few weeks come flooding out, and by the time she finished she was trembling and not just from the cold. Wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her sleeve, she turned to go back inside. But a feeling of being watched sent tingles across her skin, and she turned back to the railing.

She looked up and sucked in a breath.

Perched on the ledge of the opposite building was Zenon in all his full demon glory. The lights from the city glinted off his dark red skin, leathery black wings, and shiny horns. His white fangs looked almost fluorescent, and his bright yellow eyes glowed through the shadows.

He was magnificent. Terrifying and beautiful all at the same time.

Unmoving, he watched her right back. She stood frozen, couldn’t have moved if the building was burning down around her. His wings spread wide, revealing their impressive span, and with two powerful beats he lifted off and disappeared behind the clouds.

Mia ignored the low throb of need that flared in her belly, the urge to call after him. He wouldn’t welcome it. The knights had told her they’d keep an eye on her—that was all this was. It was the only reason he’d come.

Going back inside, she closed and locked the door and climbed into bed. She wrapped the heavy comforter around her to chase away the cold, a bone deep chill that she knew had nothing to do with the cool night air and everything to do with the male who had turned his back on her once again. How could he be so indifferent when everything in her screamed out for him?

She couldn’t think anymore tonight; it hurt too much. Closing her eyes, she let blissful darkness claim her.

Mia had been crying. No, she’d been sobbing. And he’d felt her pain across the short distance as if it were his own.

His gut twisted as he flew up into the cloud bank. Seeing her like that killed him, made him want to go to her. But even if he could, what would he do? He didn’t know the first thing about soothing females.

He’d said his goodbyes, even if she didn’t know the significance, would never know what she was to him. None of it mattered. He couldn’t keep her for himself. If Helena got even a whiff of Mia, she’d be out for blood—Mia’s blood. He didn’t care what she did to him, could take her punishments, but he would never put Mia in that kind of danger.

Even with the bitch confined, her powers half what they had been in hell, his mistress was still a serious threat to those around her. He would never allow that, would never let her lay a finger on Mia.

Arching up, he flew skyward, using energy he didn’t have to spare, then shot across the night sky to the other side of the city. Tucking in his wings tight to his back, he let himself plummet toward the Earth. The skyscrapers and cars closed in the more altitude he dropped, and he was rewarded with a short reprieve from the knots in his belly when his internal organs smashed against his spine from the velocity of the drop.

Snapping out his wings, he caught the air and with two powerful beats of his wings landed on a large balcony.

The doors into the penthouse were open, and dim light filtered through the gauzy curtains that hung there floating gently in the breeze.

As always, his mistress knew he was coming, had anticipated his visit.

Mia’s delicate pixie features flashed through his mind, and he forced them back out. This was no place for her. It was too dangerous, even in his thoughts. She was everything good and right. This place held nothing but humiliation—pain.

As Zenon stumbled through the door, uncaring of his nakedness, his demon snarled and twisted. But when he breached the threshold it was forced back, suppressed. Helena knew better, had learned the hard way that Zenon’s demon would kill her if it got the chance. Bile rose in the back of his throat as his dick filled and hardened, jutting from his body like the evil bitch had wrapped her hand around it, leading him to her.

The very idea of touching her made him sick to his stomach, but when he was in her domain he was hers to control. That included his cock. She didn’t like anyone else touching him, and used her powers to make sure she had full control over who he did, and more importantly, did not fuck.

The pain had reached a point of no return, his skin burning like it was being peeled from his flesh. He was weak, had pushed himself to the limit. This was the longest he’d gone without coming to her, and he knew she’d make him pay for that as well. She didn’t like to be kept waiting.

He entered the room set up for their time together. She stood by the window, gazing out, her long black hair, sleek and glossy, hanging down her back. She wore a pale blue filmy robe that you could see the outline of her body through as clear as if she were standing naked. She turned, and he flinched, her huge black eyes pinning him to the spot.

Her gaze moved over his body, landing on his straining cock, and the scent of her arousal drifted over, surrounded him, making him want to gag. “Where have you been?”

“You know where I’ve been.” Not like he could go far.

She cocked her head to the side and studied him so thoroughly it sent a shudder of unease through his body. “I’ve been worried. What on earth could have kept you from me?”

Silas was the only one strong enough to control Helena and had her locked up tight in her ivory tower. She had no choice but to cool her heels and wait. She hated that more than anything.

“I’ve been busy.”

Wrong thing to say. Her eyes flared. “What’s more important than your life? You could have died.”

“I’m hardly going to let that happen, now am I?”

She pulled open the front of her robe, revealing her perfect, unmarred skin. Slender fingers smoothed over her flat stomach and moved between her thighs. “You realize I will have to punish you?”

“But of course, mistress”

She hissed. She hated when he called her that. But he refused to call her by her name. That was an intimacy he would refuse her until the day he died.

“Get on your back, drudge,” she snapped. Oh yeah, she was pissed. She only called him that when extremely displeased.

He did as she said, because Helena held all the cards.

When he was just fourteen, she’d bought him from a sadistic bastard who’d kept him locked up. Chained and collared from the age of six, he’d feared everything and everyone. But she’d treated him with kindness, convinced him she cared for him—loved him.

He would have done anything for her, afraid she would cast him aside, back to that hellish existence. But it hadn’t taken long to realize it was all a sick game for her, that he was just a valuable commodity. She used him countless times to gain information and power. Yes, she hated to share him, but to beings who hated angels with fierceness verging on insanity Zenon had been a plaything to extract that hatred upon. He’d fetched a high price for his mistress.

More if they wanted to damage him, taking him out of commission for several days while he recovered.

And that was the reason Silas hovered the fuck around him like a bad smell. Guilt over Zenon’s treatment, which made no sense, not when the angel had had no clue of his existence until he’d stepped through the portal all those years ago.

The bed was covered in red silk but felt like a million razor blades cutting into his oversensitized flesh when he lay down. She let her robe slither to the floor and moved up beside him. He locked his eyes on the ceiling, and she trailed long red fingernails down his chest, hard enough to break the skin, hard enough that blood bubbled to the surface. The scent of her arousal increased at the sight of his blood and she gripped his erection and squeezed, pumped his flesh several times, knowing how much he hated that she could force a physical reaction from him.

“You really are a magnificent specimen. As soon as I saw you, even as a filthy little runt, I’d known the kind of male you’d become.” She trailed her fingers across his cheek. “That fucking angel will pay for messing with your face. He did it to piss me off, trying to stake some claim over you. But you will always be my pet, won’t you, drudge?”

After all this time, she still hadn’t worked out the brand on his face had nothing to do with her. If she knew what it was, what it did, she’d lose her shit.

Her goal was to return to Hell, overthrow Diemos, and sit her skinny ass on his throne. It hadn’t worked the last time, and because of her failed attempt she’d been forced to flee. Of course she’d dragged him along with her.

Her favorite bartering tool.

Straddling his thighs, she bent down, caught a flat nipple between her pointed razor-sharp teeth, and bit down. He refused to flinch. She took him inside her body, that part of her drenched, surrounded him, and slid over his hard flesh. She rode him hard, gouging his skin with her teeth and nails until the room filled with the smell of her musky arousal and the tangy metallic scent of his blood.

Fuck, he hated her. Hated her to the core of his being.

“Look at me,” she hissed.

When he complied, she sent a tiny wave of what he needed through the hand on his chest, enough to stop him dying but not enough to stop the pain gripping his body or return him to full strength. Yeah, she’d make him pay over the next couple of days for his absence.

The creature riding him, using him, felt nothing for him and enjoyed dishing out her punishments, and though he knew he would pay for it, he let all the hatred he felt for her show on his face. She hissed then slapped him using all her considerable strength.

His lip split and warmth trickled across his cheek. The sight of more of his blood only increased her excitement, and she came hard, her muscles squeezing around his dick like a vise.

But he didn’t come, refused to give her that. It wasn’t hard to deny her. All he had to do was look at the bitch. She hated that more than anything else. But in the end, that was all he had left, all he was capable of holding back from her, the only thing he had that was his. She continued to ride him hard, bringing herself to orgasm three more times before she collapsed on top of him.

When she lifted her head, hatred burned bright. “Why do you persist in holding back from me? You know how much that angers me.” When he didn’t reply and kept his gaze on the ceiling, she climbed off and yanked on her robe.

Mia drifted back into his thoughts then, and it took everything he had to hold back the sob building to the size of a motherfucking boulder in the back of his throat.

“Get on the fucking rack,” she screamed.

Zenon pushed that beautiful female back out of his head because, yeah, this nightmare was too ugly for someone as pure and good as her. And in that moment, any hopes he’d secretly harbored that one day things might be different, that one day he could go to her, dissolved.

He would never be free.

Dragging his body off the bed, he stumbled to the steel frame on the other side of the room and got into position for his mistress.

His punishment had only just begun.