For days.
MONTHS.
We devoured each other.
We were inseparable. Addicted to each other. Each fight ended with Beau taking me back to the changing room or to some dark corner and having me, using me, controlling me. I could see how he was changing, how his soul was raw and damaged, but it was open, open only for me.
And I was using him in return, feeding on every sinful and delicious corner of his soul.
Dolores stayed with us for a few days and I caught Beau taking care of her. He’d feed her soup, lift the spoon into the chicken broth and spoon-feed it to her. Dolores was slowly gaining back her smiles. Seeing him being so gentle and respectful to her, warmed my chest. As cold and dark as his soul was, there was still a glimmer of hope, of affection battling inside of him.
I wanted to bring him back to life. To appreciate the present and envision a future. Whether I was a part of it or not wasn’t what mattered most to me. I simply wanted him to look at the future as an opportunity to thrive, not destroy.
After Beau left for work today, I crawled into bed, snuggling with Dolores, giggling as I wrapped my father’s wool sweater around my arms.
“You still have it,” Dolores said, eyeing the discolored wool, pinched and dangerously close to unraveling.
“It’s the last material thing I have of my past, the rest is nothing but memories. Good and bad,” I whispered, sniffing the wool. It still smelled like him; like peppermint and fresh bread, or at least I liked to imagine it still did. “You feeling better?”
She nodded. “I was talking to Beau about staying at Scorpios. He says his family would provide the best services for me to get better and back on my feet.”
I bit the inside of my mouth. “Are you okay with that?” I wanted her to get help, but it felt weird not living with her. I wanted to make sure she was fine.
She smiled softly. “I am. I would have never thought I’d trust a Knight, but…I do trust him. Especially if you do.”
I laughed, uncomfortable at how she was staring at me. Because I knew she could read me like no one else.
“You love him,” she whispered, a warm smile taking over her features, still thin, but filling out each day.
A red crimson blush washed over my face and I bowed my head, fidgeting with the sweater. “I can’t stop myself…”
Dolores’ tanned hand took my limp one and squeezed it. My eyes drifted up to her warm face, smiling ear to ear. “Then don’t stop. Love him. You and him…you both deserve happiness. Especially you, Lex.”
I swallowed thickly, wetness warming the back of my eyes. “We’re both too damaged…”
I wanted to tell her how self-destructive we were. How I was. Risking my health to save him, to help him and to have his love. But if she knew exactly how my relationship with Beau affected me, my body and mind, she’d be against this. Against us. I was addicted to his highs and lows and I wanted to be everything he needed me to be. To cure him. To save him. To love him even if he didn’t—couldn’t—love me in return.
Dolores left the next day and things went back to normal between Beau and I.
When we were at the apartment, we laid in the darkness, naked, sweaty and sated. We’d talk nonsense for hours or simply listened to each other’s breathing.
The two of us were just reckless, young gods—destroying each other in the best way possible.
“I used to always ask my dad to tell me the same bedtime story when I was little. The one about how souleaters came to be. Has anyone ever told you the story?” I asked him one night after he fucked me on the couch, taking me from behind over and over again.
“Maybe,” he said, letting the smoke slowly leave his parted mouth. “But it’s been a long while since I was young enough to be told bedtime stories, cucciola. The only story I remember is the one about Fallen’s lost heart. My father made sure my siblings and I would never forget that one.” I felt his mood shift in the darkness, and when he spoke again, his tone was off, dry. “Though I guess one could argue he didn’t beat it hard enough into us because I still fell for that human girl.”
Taken by surprise, I stayed silent for a beat too long. I hadn’t expected him to mention his past with Valentina. He rarely spoke about her and as much as it pained me that he had loved another once, it also made me happy. He needed to open up, but each time he got further along, he shut down. I sometimes would watch him from the bed as he cleaned up the dishes and notice the distant look in his eyes, as if he was still living in his memories, physically and mentally. I wanted him to be here with me, but each time I tried to tell him my true feelings for him, I retreated into myself. I was afraid of what he’d say. Afraid it would be pushing him too much, too soon. He wasn’t ready.
I didn’t know if he would ever be.
But I hoped.
He sighed heavily, lost to his dark thoughts. A long, powerful finger traced the curve of my naked hip, sending a shiver down my spine. “Tell me, Alexandra. Tell me your favorite story.” His mouth was directly to my ear, nothing but a dark, sensual rumble. My toes curled and I cleared my throat.
“Many, many centuries ago, a goddess named Nihil lived in a world that no longer exists. She was said to be one of the greatest beauties to ever grace the soil of their world. From the moment she was born, her brother, Ereon, a god of opportunities and scheming, had planned to offer her in marriage to Agedan, a powerful god from a neighboring world. He’d hoped to form an alliance and therefore obtain more power himself. But Nihil had grown up, her features becoming more and more beautiful with every death of a star. She fell in love with a young demi-god named Jeanos. A man who had no true power to his being. But the goddess loved him so fiercely, she chose to walk a sinful path and defy her brother’s orders of purity. When Ereon found out, he punished her for her betrayal, furious his gift to Agadan had been sullied and used.” I was vaguely aware of Beau’s lips caressing my temple, lost to the story, telling it the way my father always had.
“Ereon cursed Nihil with starvation. She couldn’t consume any water, any food. With the help of magic, he kept her alive, but always on the brink of death. Always starving.” I smiled sadly, my fingers moving across his bare chest, tracing the lines of his muscle.
“She endured the hunger for centuries, becoming nothing but a pile of bones and skin. It was when she heard of her lover’s death that the goddess broke down completely. All those centuries, she’d fought and survived in hopes of one day seeing the man she loved again.
“But when he was dead… she became the shell of a woman. She’d lost her only reason to fight for. She summoned her brother to her chamber and told him that she would do anything to be put out of her misery. Ereon laughed at her, thinking she was pitiful, and asked her to kiss him. Nihil did, there was no point in keeping her affections to the man she loved now that he was dead. But she’d been hungry for so long, too long, that when their lips touched, she tasted Ereon’s soul. When she realized she could swallow his essence and fill her starving, empty stomach with it, she drank and drank and drank every last drop. It killed Ereon, and with that, Nihil was a free goddess once more. No longer a beauty, but a goddess of danger with cravings dark and deathly. What she hadn’t known then was that she’d be affected by the soul she would feed on. She became greedy for power and glory, much like her brother had been. His essence had tainted hers. The soft woman she’d once been was gone. And that is how souleaters came to be.”
“Souleaters were thought to be holy servants to incubi,” Beau said, his fingers rubbing along my spine, sending faint shivers across my skin and I leaned closer to him. “To cleanse our souls of any purities. But it was taboo, if an incubus had sexual relations with his souleater.”
“I think we’ve crossed that taboo line,” I said, laughing softly. “Many times.” I sat up, climbing over his body and laying across him. He was my center, my constant. He didn’t like that I still worked at the Pit, but he watched closely. He’d made it clear to everyone there that they couldn’t mess with me or they’d have to deal with Savage. Danny had been distant, silent, and he would watch me, but never speak to me.
Beau and I became lost in our own world here. We were always touching, always kissing and he took me whenever he could. We both fed each other’s needs and still, it wasn’t enough.
“Do you wanna know what your soul tastes like?” I asked him, my hands spreading across his firm tattooed pecs, feeling the quick rise and fall of his breath.
His own hands dug into my hips, anchoring me so I wasn’t pressing down on his hardening length beneath my core. The friction between us—physically and mentally was a dangerous game. One I’d enjoyed playing.
“You’re asking for trouble, Alexandra,” he hissed out, lowly and breathless and I laughed, drunkenly at the warm, lustful tang sinking into my gums.
“That dark soul of yours,” I began, lowering my upper half to lie across him completely, flushed to his hard, warm body of steel and muscle. His hands stayed still, gripping tightly, painfully so, but that only heightened my arousal. And by the thickening of his cock against me, I figured he felt the same way.
I licked my lips and shut my eyes, savoring the tang. His soul was layered, so deep, so endless that I got lost in it.
“So cruel, so raw. I think this must be what heaven and hell would taste like.”
He hissed at that and flipped me over, taking his sweet time devouring me the way I loved.
It was in the middle of the night when I’d passed out and dreamt of the hunters whipping me that I woke up in a hot sweat.
Beau—the Savage—cradled me in his arms and whispered soothing words to me.
“What happened in the dream?” he asked, stroking the hair off of my cheek, along with the tears.
I licked my lips, salty from the tears and stared at his mouth, unable to meet his gaze. His eyes did things to me. They made me want to tell him my deepest, darkest secrets without him having to ask. The longer I stayed with him, the less of myself I could hide from him. He was unraveling me. I hadn’t depended on someone for so long.
I still feared he’d dump me.
I knew he would.
Because everyone always left me.
“Alexandra,” he said, rolling into his accent and I hated him for it because it sounded like heaven to my ears and my gut ached. His fingers lifted my chin and I met his heated gaze.
“I—I have dreams about the hunters. The ones that took me,” I breathed out, wilting under him. Even after facing them again with Beau to save Dolores, they still haunted me.
His fingers stilled under my chin.
“Once they figured out I had ties to Scorpios, they wanted me to give them information. Mostly things I didn’t even know,” I whispered. “They’d beat or whip me every time I didn’t answer their questions. Even if I’d known the answers they wanted, I wouldn’t have told them shit.”
I heard his teeth grit.
“They told me I didn’t have to worry about them raping me,” I said bitterly, remembering their cruel laughter. “That their kind didn’t want to fuck a demon whore and be tainted.”
Beau’s fingers dug into my jaw and he sat up, lifting me with him. “Don’t fucking think about that. They’re not worthy of you remembering their sick words. I’d kill anyone who touched you without your permission.”
I gawked at him in awe, tasting the hot anger from him on my tongue, but most of all I tasted something he still hid from me. The sweet and saltiness of his affection. Beau cared for me. Wanted to protect me.
I leaned against him and he again cradled me. Just touching him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, calmed me.
I watched him every night destroy men like they were nothing. And each time he stalked up the steps and gave me a piercing, heated glare, I followed after into the darkness of the Pit. I was addicted to a ruthless man. Each kiss a hit and I couldn’t stop.
We had nothing to provide proof that Danny had ties to working with the hunters, but he still had leverage against me. So far, he hadn’t used it, other than to scare me off. I had a feeling he wouldn’t go through with his threat, because having this power over me, holding ‘what ifs’ over my head waiting for them to drop at any moment, thrilled him too much. He liked to be able to dangle something in front of my face.
And I knew that fact was brewing up a terrible storm in Beau. He hated Danny’s power over the both of us, but there was nothing either of us could do. For now, anyway.
Beau, the Savage, the Knight with a dishonored taint.
I gasped—he growled.
I was losing to a deformed god—hell-bent on destroying the fragile organ inside.
We were the forgotten chess pieces on the board, chipped, worn, but still, we surged forward.
We fed each other’s vices. Our addictions.