Chapter Seventy-four

For a moment, Damion worried Claven figured them out. He looked furious. “Do not tell me, you-you've been with him? The never smiling Gregron?”

“He’s still not smiling when I’m done with him.” Damion stopped, smiling back at Gregron who’s face had gone red.

“He only likes me because I’m terrified of him.” Gregron quickly added, wanting to keep the plan moving forward as quickly as possible. Closing the distance, he knew it wouldn’t be hard for Gregron to look terrified or disgusted by his actions. “You asked why I brought him? Because he’s my favorite so far. This is the look,” he took Gregron’s face in his hands and pointed it at Claven, “I like to have in my bed.” Aveline, Chirbon, Gareth, Cala, and Jerellathrethial all stood in the doorway, mouths dangling open.

“I’ve got to say,” Chirbon cocked his head to the side, “This is not what I was expecting.”

“Why?” Claven looked annoyed. “He’s old. He’s... grumpy. And I’m so much sexier.” He pulled off his robes, standing before them naked. His body was slim and soft, but well defined. Damion gave him a smile, turned to Gregron, mouthed the word ‘sorry’ to him and ripped open his tunic, stepping to the side and holding out a hand. Though older, Gregron was as large as Damion and just as toned and muscular, sun kissed after all the long hours they spent in the training yard.

Claven swore, angry. Pushing through the room until he hit the back wall. Damion followed, anxious as hands grabbed at them as they moved through the room. “I’m going to get you back for this.” Gregron whispered.

Damion only made a sound in response, finally making it to where the prince waited for him. Claven pushed him against the wall pressing a dagger against his throat. “How do you like being the one afraid?” He purred. Gregron’s hand moved toward his sword and Damion had to raise one of his hands in warning. He didn’t believe Claven was really attacking. He was making a move. The blade moved down his skin, but gently. He used the dagger to slice through each of the buttons on Damion’s tunic, slowly and deliberately, taking his time with each one. His hands rubbed over Damion’s chest and stomach, “You are fucking fabulous.” Dropping the dagger, he pulled at Damion’s belt. His hand sliding further down. “Gods, Gregron wasn’t lying.” His hand wrapped as far around him as his pants allowed, and Damion gasped, closing his eyes. He felt the weight of his sword fall off his hip as Claven messed with the ties at the front of his pants, falling to his knees in front of him.

Damion’s foot came up, pushing against Claven’s chest. He felt back, Damion picked up his sword and threw it toward Gregron. “You take care of that.” Damion dropped down onto all fours. His hand went to Claven’s jaw line. He searched for something he could say to convince him to show where the captives were. He’d been sure he was going to show them before he got jealous over Gregron. “Honestly, that was very sexy.” Damion pulled the dagger up pressing it against Claven’s skin. “You’re sexy... No one has dared to try to scare me before.” Grabbing Claven’s wrists in one hand, he pressed them hard above his head, locking Claven’s legs beneath his own and forcing them apart. He lowered his face so they were only a breath away.

“What the… what’s wrong with your eyes?” He could see a sliver of fear rising in Claven’s face. Though he could feel the beast lurking just beyond reach, he could never tell when it could be seen on his visage.

“Ah… that’s better.” Damion smirked, pressing the dagger to Claven’s throat. “You wanted to play. You pulled this on me first. How do you feel now?”

“I’ve never been so fucking excited.” His hips arched up toward Damion, who dropped the knife and slammed him back down onto the ground.

“Don’t ruin what you’ve got going.” He pushed Claven’s face away, biting down on his shoulder. Claven cried out, squirming beneath him. Damion raised the dagger, pressing it against the sensitive skin at his waist, pulling it along until it made a slim cut over his skin.

“Wait!” Claven yelled. “I don’t like that much pain.” He tried to push Damion off but couldn’t.

“Then let’s add someone who we don’t give a fuck about to the mix so that we can keep going. Or this will have to do. You’ll just have to be good enough.”

He could see Claven’s mind working through his words and could only pray they were enough. “Dammit.” Damion backed away, sitting back. Claven stood, pushing at the wall which moved in and sideways at his command. “I will not just be good enough.” Damion could barely believe his luck, not only did it work, but he was so caught up in the moment, he didn’t even care the others had all seen what he was doing. Even if he failed, they knew where the slaves were.

Damion took off his boots, making a show of it, too close to lose the ground he’d covered. From where this was about to go, he almost felt bad about playing Claven the way he was. Almost. As the women screamed and cried out, he felt the beast stirring. It was too close to the surface. Damion wouldn’t be able to keep wrangling him in soon. The moment he saw into the room, he let his nihility magic go. The slaves here were shackled, and he needed them free before he could make his next move.

Through the commotion, a female yelled, “I won’t let you hurt them!” And a scream.

“No, Aveline!” He heard another voice yell, but a hand hit him in the back and he reeled forward, and the beast roared from his chest. He landed on all fours, panting, as his arm wrapped around his check.

“Once the charm takes you, I’m going to make sure you kill yourself—” she kicked at him with her small barefoot.

“What the hell did you do!” Claven screamed, falling beside him. “You fucking bitch!”

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