Chapter Six
928 Words
Chapter Six
“I am not sleeping in the same bed as you.” My tone is firm, unwavering.
I’m standing in a tank top and pajama shorts, Azrael across from me in nothing but boxer briefs. We’re squared off like enemies instead of… whatever this is.
“I’m not asking,” he growls, eyes gleaming in the dim light.
“I said no.”
“Stop arguing and get in the bed.”
The patronizing tone makes my blood boil. My eyes narrow. “Make. Me.”
The second the words leave my lips, I know they’re dangerous. He rounds the bed faster than I can blink, pressing me gently but firmly back against the wall, his face close enough that his breath skims across my skin.
“Careful, angel,” he murmurs, voice like velvet and flame. “I love challenges. They exhilarate me… and you? You’re the greatest challenge I’ve ever met. That turns me on in ways you can’t imagine.”
Heat pools low in my stomach. My chest rises and falls with sharp breaths.
I swallow. “Azrael… I’m not big on cuddling. Never liked sleeping next to anyone. I just don’t do well with that kind of closeness.”
His expression softens, briefly unguarded. “Nemesis, I’ve been searching for my mate for millennia. I thought I’d found her once, but I was wrong. With you, I know I’m right. And now that I finally have you, please understand my need to keep you close. You fill a hollow that’s been inside me for thousands of years. Just let me hold you tonight.”
The sincerity in his voice hits hard. I bite my lip, caught between defiance and the pull in my chest. The sound he makes in response is guttural.
“Nemesis,” he warns, voice rough. “If you keep biting that lip, I’ll run out of restraint.”
My breath catches. His eyes blaze, locking on mine, and before I can answer, his mouth claims mine.
The kiss is fierce, overwhelming, and yet perfectly balanced — his dominance answered by my rising need. My first instinct is to push him away, but when he pins my wrists above my head, my resistance melts. Not because I can’t fight, but because some part of me trusts he won’t give me more than I can handle.
I gasp, the sound swallowed by his lips. His kiss wreaks havoc on my senses — sharp, consuming, addictive. Every part of me lights up under him, and instead of fighting, I lean in.
By the time he pulls back, I’m breathless, dazed, my body trembling with adrenaline and want.
He doesn’t gloat. He doesn’t press further. Instead, he sweeps me off my feet and carries me to the bed. He lays me down carefully, then climbs in behind me, strong arms winding around my waist. His lips brush the curve of my neck, a soft contrast to the storm still raging inside me.
“Sleep now, angel,” he murmurs. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”
A hum slips from me before the darkness takes me under.
“Good morning, love. Time to get up. Your training schedule starts today.”
I blink awake to find Ares — god of war, smiling like this is normal.
“Why am I up so early?” I grumble.
“You start at ten. It’s already nine.”
I groan and roll over, dragging the sheet over my head, only for it to vanish. Azrael yanks it away and scoops me up.
“Leave me alone,” I mutter, wriggling free and planting my feet on the floor.
“Nemesis, your first session is with Ares. He came back to Olympus just for you. Wake up, eat, and prepare.”
I glare. “Can you manage not to be a complete jerk for at least five minutes?”
He takes my hand, unbothered by my sass, and leads me out.
“Ten minutes? No? Fine. Five? Five minutes without being insufferable?” I needle him, enjoying the twitch of his jaw.
We reach the stairs before he finally answers, his voice low and dangerous. “Careful, baby. Keep taunting me and you’ll earn yourself a punishment. And punishments on Olympus? Legendary.”
My cheeks flare hot. “Noted,” I squeak, shutting up fast.
In the dining hall, a spread of breakfast foods covers the long table.
“Did you make all this?” I ask.
“No. House staff.”
I frown. “There are staff for the gods?”
“Primarily humans,” he explains. “The purest of the pure are allowed to serve here. They love it.”
“But you’re not a god,” I point out.
He smirks. “Right. I’m far more interesting.”
I snort and brush past him — only to feel a sharp smack on my backside. I freeze, stunned. “Did you just—”
Before I can finish, he spins me, landing another playful swat on the opposite cheek.
“Why are you spanking me?!” I demand, scandalized.
“Because you’re being a brat. And brats get spanked.” His eyes glint, daring me. “Besides… don’t tell me you’re not enjoying it.”
The sting burns in a way I can’t deny, heat flaring in places I don’t want to think about. Embarrassing. Infuriating. And gods help me… beyond hot.
I press my lips together and march ahead, silently cursing my traitorous body.
I really need to get it together.
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