That Bitter Sting by Melissa Polk

Author:Melissa Polk [Polk, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stray Thought Press
Published: 2024-01-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-one

The sweetest surrender.

Soren

The ghost-butterflies took flight as Soren sat up and swung his feet to the floor. "I will always do my best to give you what you need, kitten,” he said solemnly. It was clear Dominik hadn’t yet made the distinction in his mind that what he wanted might not be what he needed. Still, he wouldn’t let his witch suffer unduly. It had been a trying day for them both and a degree of comfort was definitely in order, though not immediately.

"Get in bed. I’ll take care of things out here, wash up, and be in shortly.” He’d cupped Dominik’s cheek while speaking and the witch swayed toward him. The movement was so natural, like a compass finding north. Soren let their lips brush softly. "Go on,” he whispered. Dominik nodded, unfolded until he towered over Soren, then walked obediently down the hallway.

Soren checked the front door again before sending another message to Jonah.

Anubis: I need a loophole. some way to make sure Dominik is free of his past.

Glitch: Will draw attention, Anu. There’s no quiet way to do this.

Soren hesitated. Jonah was right. Rafael was already aware of Dominik. Seeking asylum would free his witch from his father and the Lynton pack, but at what cost—and would he even want it?

Anubis: whatever his safety costs, I will pay.

Glitch: That’s what I’m afraid of. You’re all emotion and not enough logic. Go be with your boy. I’m turning off the bedroom cameras until after sunrise.

Anubis: thank you, Jonah. it will never be enough, but thank you.

Flipping the light switch, Soren made use of the bathroom, then entered Dominik’s bedroom. He stopped in the doorway, taking in the details he hadn’t allowed himself to note when checking the cameras. One wall of the room was mostly windows that looked out to the street. Blinds were pulled down with thin curtains over them to block out most of the light. A lamp beside the bed illuminated the room. A dresser to one side, an old armchair, wicker hamper, closed closet doors, a free-standing mirror, and Dominik stretched under the blankets of his bed.

Even against the white pillowcase, Dominik’s hair was as bright as a beacon—like he’d trapped sunlight in every strand. Silent and still, Dominik watched him with anticipation—like he knew precisely what he wanted, but wasn’t sure Soren would let him have it. The thought made Soren’s lips curl.

Taking another step into the room, he pulled the long-sleeved shirt over his head, tossing it into a corner as he made his way to the dresser. Slowly, with his back to the bed, he emptied his pockets and divested himself of weapons, then unfastened his pants and eased them down his legs. Dominik’s sigh was both wistful and disappointed. Soren looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow.

"Problem, kitten?” he asked.

"No.” The sound of Dominik licking his lips was loud in the quiet room as Soren pulled off his socks, then eased the plain, black boxers over his hips. "I’d just hoped you’d be wearing something lacier,” he admitted in a husky whisper.

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