Thirst (Hellish #4)(16)
Jonathan wanted to rage against the unfairness of their world. He would die if anything happened to one of his mates. “It wasn’t hatred I felt from Baptiste when he was here earlier.”
Kallus shook his head. A sad smile touched his lips. “Trust me, he loathes me. It’s the only thing keeping him alive. If it wasn’t for my existence, he’d move on to the next life, but he thinks I want my freedom and his death would give it to me. So his hatred forces him from bed each day. Baptiste lives because his life brings me suffering. That’s what real unadulterated hatred is like. It hurts him to feel that way about someone he once loved. That’s what you feel from him, but make no mistake, it’s pure—untainted by a single drop of love.”
Jonathan stood and moved to the window, pulling the chalk from his pocket as he went. “Well, I have bad news for you. Malice isn’t enough any longer. Before he left, I saw his intentions. He’s going away, tidying up loose ends, and moving on to whatever reincarnation he gets next. Ethan will go with him, of course. He’ll help ease the pain of Baptiste’s passing. Ethan loves him, you know?” Jonathan said over his shoulder, rubbing salt in Kallus’ wounds. “He loves him enough to let him go, so Baptiste can find peace. That’s more than you can say, I think.”
The loudest, fakest, and most obnoxious laughter Jonathan had ever heard sounded from behind him. Jonathan turned, abandoning his plans of setting Kallus free with the appearance of his evil laughter. He focused on Kallus once more. The demon swiped at his eyes. “That was a good one, new king. Really. For someone all-seeing, you’re unnaturally blind. Ethan won’t be holding Baptiste’s hand while he crosses over. Quite the opposite, I imagine. I suggest you kill me now, because once Ethan is done with Baptiste, he’ll come for me.”
Confusion mixed with impending doom. “What do you mean?”
Kallus’ mouth lifted in one corner. “You honestly don’t know who Ethan really is, do you?”
Jonathan could only stare at Kallus in wonder. He had a terrible feeling he’d made a huge misstep. Now, all he could do was wait for the other shoe to drop.
5
Ethan glanced around. The room they stood in was constructed of hand carved wood, made in the day when wood was heated and shaped before it cooled. The cabin was huge and had taken years to build. “Sweden?”
Baptiste’s eyebrows damn near hit his hairline. Ethan bit back a chuckle at the sight. “How did you know?”
“Lucky guess.” He knew everything but chose to keep that to himself. Baptiste looked tired. It had been a long day for him, seeing Kallus again. There were dark circles beneath Baptiste’s eyes. Ethan wanted to kiss them away. Baptiste kept running his hand over his short-cropped blond hair. If it were longer, the strands would be standing on end from the abuse. Things had gotten worse lately. Ethan had hoped the more years that passed, the more Baptiste’s pain would ease. The opposite was true. It visibly grew with each passing day. He half expected Baptiste to scratch at his skin until he drew blood. Ethan needed to make it stop. He was the only one who could.
Baptiste turned in a circle. “This was Eirik’s. I haven’t been here in years. Not since he… I should’ve sold it before now.”
“You’re selling it?”
Baptiste flashed him a sad smile but didn’t respond. Ethan wanted to growl. Before he could respond, he felt a wave of exhaustion roll from Baptiste. Baptiste rubbed his temples.
“When was the last time you fed?”
Baptiste shook his head and turned away. “I’m just tired. After I get some sleep—”
Ethan shifted, moving through space to appear inches from Baptiste. Baptiste lifted his chin and met Ethan’s stare. The man’s light green eyes punched Ethan in the chest. The way they always did. Ethan had never possessed a great deal of scruples. When it came to Baptiste, his conscience was nonexistent. He wanted him. Ethan wouldn’t stop. There was no line he wouldn’t cross.
Without a word, Ethan hauled Baptiste against him and urged his face to his throat. The sound of Baptiste’s heartbeat got louder as it sped. His lips brushed Ethan’s neck. Ethan’s dick stirred. His eyes fell closed. Baptiste’s teeth scraped at Ethan’s pulse point. A moan clogged Ethan’s throat. His hold tightened on Baptiste. He needed this. Baptiste’s fangs pierced his skin. The moan fell from Ethan’s lips. His cock jumped, aching for more. Baptiste sucked. Ethan grabbed two handfuls of ass and lifted, leaving Baptiste little choice but to wrap his legs around Ethan’s waist. Baptiste was hard for him too. There was no hiding it. Possessiveness roared through Ethan. So many times, he’d been a hairsbreadth away from being inside Baptiste, only to have Baptiste stop him or someone interrupt them. Now, in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, Ethan would have this man who completely owned his every thought. It was well past time he claimed Baptiste. The man needed someone to soothe him.
Ethan didn’t make it far. He’d been dying of thirst for too long. Some type of animal fur covered the floor in front of the unlit fireplace. Baptiste ripped his fangs away. Ethan took Baptiste to the floor on top of the rug. He tried to be gentle, but the sound of clothing ripping rent the air. The more skin he bared, the more Ethan wanted. He kissed and licked every new inch. Panting breaths filled the air. Ethan no longer knew whose they were. He didn’t take from Baptiste. Ethan needed him to feel everything. The beast inside him roared for Ethan to bite, tear into Baptiste’s skin and claim the man properly. Ethan fought the voices.