BOOK 2 of the Running With Devils Series
It's been three weeks since Coralynn Bennet was dragged down to Hell and it was nothing like how she imagined it. It was a kingdom of skyscrapers but no sky. Demons ran amok, but limited their bloodthirsty te...
AN: Here's a heavy hitting world building chapter. I promise to get some more spicy stuff soon, but first... PLOT (because apparently you need to have it)🫡 Tryna give y'all the heebie-jeebies with these next few posts so... have fun with that.
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The Witch
He hid his fear well. But with my new body came new senses. I could smell it on him. Just a hint of it as he walked ahead of me towards the car.
I watched the Reaper open the door for me, extending a hand. I took it and carefully stepped in, waiting for him to come around the front and get in the drivers seat.
It wasn't until we pulled onto the street, that I decided I wanted some entertainment.
"What should I call you tonight," I asked simply.
He didn't take his eyes off the road as he took a few moments to think over his answer.
"What do you want to call me," he asked.
"Your name would be nice," I sighed.
Finally, he graced me with a quick glance that was more of a frown.
"What do you need my name for? It's not like you should be using it tonight anyway—"
"Not even afterwards," I asked slowly.
The corner of his lips twitched upwards just slightly.
"It depends on what you intend to do with it," he said softly.
I leaned my head back against the headrest, turning to look over at him. A lazy smile curving my lips.
"What would you like me to do with it," I asked, reaching over the center console to gently squeeze his thigh.
His hand slid over mine, knitting his fingers slowly between my fingers and taking it from his thigh to rest on the console.
"Just once," he swallowed, "I want to hear it said without contempt. I want to hear it without the fear of death." He took a sharp breath, looking over at me— almost timidly. "I want to hear it softly and without any expectations."
Those words gave me a slight glimpse of what sort of things haunted the Reaper.
Those daddy issues he had mentioned just a few nights before returned to the forefront of my thoughts.
This male held a hurt so deep that the sound of his own name could reopen that wound. And the only thing I could think of was what his own father had put him through.
I lifted his hand to my lips, pressing them to his knuckles softly.
"Give me a chance to try and do that for you," I whispered, brushing my lips lightly across the scarred skin.
