Daughter of Asteria (The Daughter Trilogy) (17 page)

I scream out as I beat my fists against his back, but my attempts are ineffective -
duh
. I feel the

bed pop beneath me, and instantly Devin’s arms are wrapped around me, pulling me into him, and

forcing me to stay put against my will.

“Stop. Just let me sleep on the freaking couch!” I squeal, my red face flushed with anger.

His lips cover mine again to shut me up, and I struggle against his strong hands forcing me

against him.

It’s almost impossible to keep this up though. I’m still pissed, but I can’t keep fighting this. It’s

crazy, maddening, and completely… erotic to have his body grinding against my once unwilling one.

As much as I would love to continue sulking, I can’t. He’s too fucking irresistible, and I wish I

could hate him for that.

I roughly grip his neck and pull him to me. The moment he feels my shift, his body responds by

revealing an even more vigorous desire for me.

His hands slide up my legs and part them so his body can move between them. His lips trail up

my stomach as he scoots my dress up to pull it off over my head.

I gasp a little as his tongue dances across my abdomen before lowering, and my eyes roll back in

my head as the sensations grow in intensity. His lips move back up to catch mine, and my hips thrust

up to beg him to end this torturous tease.

How can I be so mad and so turned on at once?
Fucking hot immortal.

Chapter 6

Solitary Confinement

The soft green grass waves beneath the playful wind lightly stirring throughout the vast, open

fields surrounding us. This is the first time I’ve ever been out of the country, but I’ve spent the entire

trip in silence.

Devin keeps trying to entrap me the he did last night, but I’m not giving in again. The jet ride

was long and exhausting, more so considering all the energy I’ve exerted to keep my anger intact.

Getting up at four iî the morning is far from pleasant, and I need more coffee before my mind can

fully appreciate the abandoning mission at hand.

“Will you please talk to me?” Devin murmurs as he tries to pull me over beside him in the

backseat of the sedan being driven by a stranger - a mortal.

“What is there to say?” I whimper, tears slipping free.

I wipe them away and then look up to see his jaw clenching.

His eyes glance in the direction of the Irish man he has hired to carry me into the spot he can’t

take me himself before he whispers softly, “This is just temporary. You’re acting as if I’ve just told

you I’m never going to see you again,” he soothes.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if that speech comes later,” I mumble through a bed of fresh tears now

falling more mercilessly.

He jerks me into his lap and begins kissing me against my will. I’ve cried so much, I don’t even

have the strength to try to resist nor return his affections. My lips stay still, motionless as he tries to

provoke them into finding my desire.

“Please don’t say stuff like that. I’m not ever giving you up. You know I can’t. I love you too

damn much,” he pleads.

“Well, this doesn’t feel like love to me,” I sniffle out.

He strokes my hair as I cry into his chest. I feel like I’m suddenly the one being voted off the

island, and it’s heartbreaking.

“Adisia, please don’t cry. You know it kills me,” he meekly breathes.

I try to wipe away the drips as I continue staring out at the Ireland landscape engulfing us. There

are no buildings, and very few homes line the sides of the green sea. The car begins slowing down,

and the driver’s barely understandable accent sounds off.

“We’re at the point you requested me to stop, Sir.”

Devin opens the door and pulls me out with him. His lips press against mine, reminding me I hate

the taste of goodbye - temporary or not.

“I love you,” he murmurs softly against my lips.

I hear the convoy that has followed us creeping to a halt. Doors open in near unison, and I

swallow hard against the knot in my throat.

“I love you,” I squeak out.

Persia robs me from Devin’s arms as she hugs me. I’m sure she never thought she’d be dumping

me again, but yet it’s what she does best.

“I’m sorry about this, but we’ll be back,” she promises.

I say nothing, and they all flock in to take turns embracing me in their abandoning arms. I pull

free from the last hug before climbing back into the car.

Devin leans in and kisses me again, but it isn’t passion that floods me; it’s miserable pain and

anxiety. His eyes show their turmoil as he speaks.

“Answer your phone every time I call, please. I’ll be worried if you don’t,” he requests.

“Yeah,” I mumble before turning my attention to the driver. “We can go now,” I urge.

Devin sighs as he steps back and closes the door. I stare out the window for a fleeting second

until I can’t bear the tragic look in his eyes anymore. It’s just me and this foreign escape I’ve been

forced to go to.

It doesn’t take too terribly
long to reach the house, considering I’ll be restricted to a twenty

mile radius, and the place where I’m staying is smack dab in the middle. Leave it to Devin to be that

thorough.

He paid a ridiculous amount to get the current tenants out, and now I’ll be taking their home the

day after they were rushed into moving.

The outside is quaint and more my style than the overly decadent styling Devin normally has in

his homes, but this was a hasty purchase. The farm on the property is devoid of life, but I can tell that

it’s been a recent abandonment.

How did they get all of their stuff and their animals out so quickly?

The driver holds my door open, and the scent of fresh wildflowers, stale stables, and Ireland air

leaps into my lungs still trembling from my eminent panic attack. He tips his hat - in true

gentlemanly fashion - and then he takes his place behind the wheel to leave me alone in my fortress of

solitude.

I gasp as I walk inside to see the vibrant splashes of color that completely mimic the colors in my

old apartment. The imperfect clashing of the wild colors brings a slight smile to my face, and my

hands slowly skim over the new furnishings someone must have moved in for me.

The creaky old floors assure me this home is aged and completely unfamiliar with having so

many changes so quick. I like the rustic feel though. It’s more… me.

The appliances are so new that not even a speck of dust has had time to lay on the stainless steel

surfaces. Pictures decorate the walls, and tears spring free from my eyes as I stare into the smoky

eyes I can’t bear the thought of being disconnected from for so long.

They’re everywhere - our pictures. This is complete torture.

Most of them are from Clara’s wedding. Some are candid shots taken here and there before the

memory of Safina’s threat came crashing back down on me.

I plop down on the red sofa and stare around at all of the memories of our once spirited

excitement before we remembered our once tragic fate.

I’m all alone now with these pictures of the man who just threw me out into this strange home.

“What are you doing?” Devin
sighs as I sit quietly on the other end.

“I’m painting my nails. It’ll only be the tenth time I’ve done this today,” I grumble, a resentful

tone resonating in the back of my throat.

“Adisia, I’m starting to have anxiety knots every time I want to call you,” he gripes.

“Then stop calling fifty times a day. I’m perfectly fine in my ice fortress. I love being

completely isolated from all civilization, and I find it so wonderful to know that I can’t even drive

into town because my overbearing boyfriend won’t allow it,” I grumble.

“Fiancé,” he quickly corrects.

I roll my eyes and refrain from barking out something cruel I know I’ll regret. I hate this sexual

frustration that has mounted along with my forced hermit lifestyle.

“It’s been twenty-four days since I’ve seen my
fiancé
, so pardon me for misspeaking. You can

see how I’d be confused about our relationship at this moment.”

“You’re confused? About us? What are you trying to say?” he almost whines.

So much for not saying anything cruel, Adisia.

“Nothing. I’m just a little cranky today. Solitary confinement tends to leave a person agitated,” I

mumble.

“Adisia, please don’t make any decisions while you’re away from me. I promise we’ll be back to

normal as soon as we get all of this ironed out,” he assures.

“Yeah, when will that be exactly?” I roll out sardonically.

He sighs with more frustration than usual.

“I don’t know. It’s taking longer than I thought, and we haven’t even moved into the southern

contacts yet. Mom is having to take longer breaks in between reveals. The whole process is just

moving at a snail’s pace. I’m trying to hurry things along. I miss you,” he utters.

“I miss you too. I’m going to go take a shower right now though. I need to get some of this

cranky off of me,” I mumble while putting down the bright red polish.

“I thought you just painted your nails. Won’t that mess them up?” he asks as he tries to keep me

from hanging up.

“I’ll just paint them again. It’ll give me something to do. You have stuff that needs to be done.

If you spend the day talking to me, then it was kind of pointless to send me away so I wouldn’t be a

distraction,” I gripe as I waddle with my wet toenails to the bathroom.

“I didn’t do this because you were a distraction, and you know that,” he scolds.

The water begins surging through the lavish showerhead, and I begin creeping out of my clothes

while putting him on speaker.

“You’re getting in the shower right now?” he says with a suddenly seduced tone.

“Yes,” I say with a bit of a smirk. “Are you going to listen while I enjoy the water finding every

place on my body?”

He breathes out heavily, and I know he’s straining to see me right now.

“You know you still can’t see me, right?” I chuckle out.

“Yeah,” he grumbles. “It wouldn’t matter if I could, I still wouldn’t be able to see you in the

vortex.”

“Then why are you trying?” I retort.

He lets out a bit of a snicker before answering a little lighter. “Because it’s killing me to not be

with you right now. This is absolute torture.”

I almost smile, and then I realize I can’t do this right now. I can’t be the flirty girl so in love with

him that she’s perfectly fine with being held captive.

“I’m going to let you go, Devin,” I murmur as I pick the phone back up.

“Please don’t,” he whimpers.

“I love you. Bye,” I continue.

He sighs out hard. “I love you. Bye, baby,” he mumbles reluctantly.

I climb into the shower as a few more tears sprout.

Happy birthday to me.

It’s amazing absolutely no one has remembered. Mom, Dad, Jake, Clara, my other mom… not

even Devin has told me the little endearing phrase I once took for granted.

So far, being twenty-six sucks. Last time I was frozen at twenty-five, and we didn’t live to see

my twenty-sixth. I’ve officially spent more time apart from Devin than I’ve spent with him.

I dry off quickly and glance at the clock on the wall. My lips tighten as I finally grow sick of the

waiting game.

I hastily dry my hair, and toss on my makeup. I’m not going to spend my birthday locked up by

myself. It’s just too depressing, and there’s a pub just barely outside the vortex. Persia is the only

one who can see me, but she won’t be looking for me.

Her visions are different than Devin’s. She only has visions of me when I’m in trouble. As long

as I’m perfectly safe, she won’t know about my tiny little rebellious night.

“Good evening, ma’am,” the driver
says as he opens the door for me to get in.

“Good evening,” I reply cordially.

As soon as he cranks the car I get butterflies in my stomach. How sad it is to be this excited just

to leave the house.

The drive is brisk, and I just relax as the wind falls through the strands of my hair as I stare out

the open window of the backseat. It’s refreshing to feel my wings spreading.

I want to control that wind again.

I giggle a little as I see the pub just ahead, and the driver smiles at my ridiculous reaction. I feel

like I just turned twenty-one instead of twenty-six.

“First pub, Miss?” he asks with a light tone.

“No. I just haven’t gotten out in a while,” I murmur vaguely.

“Ah, well. You need to be careful here, Miss. They tend to get a little rough from time to time.

The lads mean no harm, but sometimes alcohol releases the demons in you,” he cautions - his thick,

Irish accent far more understandable than it would have been when I arrived.

That’s all that’s ever on the TV, so I’ve become accustomed to the native dialect.

“Thank you. I’ll bear that in mind. Can you pick me up in about three or four hours?” I ask

curiously.

“Yes ma’am,” he quickly responds.

I step out onto the dirty path, and more butterflies tumble around. The bustling pub is full of