Deviant Games (The Controllers #8) - L.V. Lane Page 0,51

a useful, blunt tool before Lilly’s blood acted upon me. But that first hit changed me. I could still picture her spread out upon that tiny cot on the Uncorrupted ship, dress torn, plump tit filling my hand, and mouth opened on a shocked gasp as I forced my cock into her tight cunt.

I was once a tool, now I was a razor-sharp asset that had snatched the most infamous Omega captive from the Uncorrupted all because I had a mate. Had I extracted Olsen for leverage or because my possessive little Omega, once she got past her rage, would have wanted the Omega safe?

Maybe I should have just killed Olsen and put her out of her misery. After ten years with the Uncorrupted, she was either damaged beyond repair or a liability about to betray us.

Then I’d told Lucian to have someone ruin her. In Lucian’s words, what the hell was wrong with me?

An hour ago, I wasn’t a rational Alpha, but I needed to find that part of me again before I entered the door I’d spent too long staring at.

Lilly would be on the other side, waiting, probably worrying. She wouldn’t know I was back unless her father had forewarned her.

No, Victor Brach knew better than to touch this disaster.

Open the fucking door and go in already!

As I opened the door, silence greeted me. Early morning sunlight shimmered over Lilly’s elegant lounge.

It wasn’t only hers anymore. I’d put my stuff in her closet, brought the few personal possessions I cared about over, and returned my government-issued lodging on Ridious back to the pool for reallocation.

The bond stirred to life—the weeks of absence stretched into forever.

I was so fucking raw and tired and desperate to feel her soft body under me, to feel her pussy squeezing over my cock, to taste her addictive blood. Today, I needed tempering more than I could ever remember. Only her soft, welcoming presence could bring my spiraling aggression under control.

“Ethan!” Her jubilant squeal roused my heart to a thud, and was followed by the patter of rushing footsteps.

Ryker’s laughter followed. “Babe, go steady. You’re going to break your neck!”

Still in the middle of the lounge, I hadn’t taken my jacket off yet, when she barreled into the room. For an instant, everything was right. Her pretty face flushed with joy, sweet body naked. I could feel myself respond, lust, love, possession, and fierce pride that all this was mine.

Our separation, the longest we had experienced since I extracted her from the Uncorrupted ship, manifested a desperation to penetrate her and knot her to reignite our bond.

But her joy fled; she came to a skidding stop, face crumbling before my eyes, collapsing inward, pulling taut.

She backed up, into Ryker who followed behind, scratching his naked chest, a pair of sleep pants low on his hips. His casual stance shifted, confusion in the puckering of his brows, and a slow shake of his head like he was trying to wake himself up.

I sucked in a sharp breath. “Lilly, I’m sorry.”

“Get out,” she hissed.

As I took a step toward her, the bond became nails scraping over a board.

“Get out!” Her screech was shocking, visceral, her emotions a cesspit of pain.

I stopped. There, right there, was the realization of everything I’d feared.

“Lilly.” My voice was rough. It hurt to get the word out.

“What the fuck have you done?” Ryker growled, catching Lilly around the waist when she tried to flee. He tried to contain her, but she was sobbing, beating at him, arms and small fists flying.

“Let me go. I need to go!”

He released her, and her feet made a different patter, no longer bringing her toward me. This time they were taking her away. I wasn’t going to tolerate that.

I didn’t know I’d moved until Ryker planted a hand in the center of my chest.

“Move your fucking hand,” I growled. I needed to go to Lilly and make this right. “You don’t know what happened.”

He didn’t move; some aspects of Ryker would never change.

“Are you shitting me? You’re projecting guilt, dickhead!”

I reeled back on my heels. I hadn’t considered that I might be the one to fuck this up. That if I could’ve gotten my shit together, this might have gone better.

“Let me go to her.”

He shook his head, lips twisting in a sneer. “Are you fucking for real?” His hand jabbed back and forth, knuckles connecting with my solar-plexus.

I staggered back.

The pain was like the opening of a door. My brows furrowed. “What the