Chapter 221
Adrian Kael
I lift my chin and move forward; I step over his body without even
casting a glance, like someone stepping on an insect that deserves no
pity. David follows right behind, with calm steps.
We walk to the storage room where the drugs are kept. David opens
the door, and the heavy smell of powder and chemicals fills the air. I
glance around the room: stacked bags, open boxes, dust on the floor,
and I sigh, weary.
“I don’t know how my god had the patience to manage all this trash.”
I look back at David.
“Separate small quantities of powder. Package them and deliver them to the kitchen crew and Navarro’s group. If the guards want some, take some portions for them too… but if anyone gets too greedy,
they’ll regret it.”
He swallows hard and nods, visibly tense.
“Deliver them discreetly,” I continue, in a firm tone. “No prisoners
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nearby. I’m not in the mood to get my hands dirty with blood today.”
“Yes, sir,” he replies quickly.
I turn my back and walk out.
In the corridor, I head toward the mess hall, and a huge smile breaks
across my face when I see him standing by the door. Magnus. My god.
I run to him without thinking.
“Love.” I hug him tightly, burying my face in his chest, inhaling that
delicious scent that drives me mad.
My heart races the moment I feel his arms wrapping back around me.
It always gets to me: every time Magnus reciprocates anything, my
entire body vibrates.
I lift my gaze to him.
“You woke up sooner than I expected.” I rest my chin on his chest,
watching him with devotion. “I thought about bringing the food to
the cell.”
He rolls his eyes.
“I woke up with my stomach growling and realized you weren’t in bed.
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So I decided to come. I was also tired of being locked up in there all
the time.”
I can’t help myself: my eyes fall to his mouth. And before I even think
of moving, he cups my cheek and leans in.
The kiss hits me like fire.
His lips press against mine–hot, firm, delicious. A groan escapes my
throat when his tongue touches mine, soft at first, but full of flavor.
The fresh taste of toothpaste is still there, mixed with his
unmistakable taste, an addiction.
I slide my hand through his hair, pulling slightly, deepening the kiss
as if I wanted to merge with him.
Magnus grips my waist tightly, and that gesture of possession pierces
through me like a bolt of lightning.
Damn, it’s so exciting to feel that he wants to have me too.
The world vanishes. There is only the heat of his mouth against mine, the shiver that explodes down my spine every time he moves his lips with such calm, firmness, and provocation.
I want more, always more.
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We break apart only for lack of air, both panting. He rubs my lower lip
with his thumb, and it almost makes me moan again.
“Let’s eat.” His deep voice slides out naturally. “I’m starving.”
I take his hand and kiss it tenderly, a small smile escaping me.
“Of course, love.”
I intertwine our fingers and pull him with me into the mess hall,
ignoring all the stares following us.
On the way, I cast a quick glance toward the kitchen and lock eyes
with TJ. He understands without me needing to say a word; a simple
look is enough for him to know what to do.
I led my god to our table, the same corner as always, where no one dares to approach. As soon as we sit, I turn to him, unable to contain
the instinct to care for him.
“How is your body feeling?” I ask softly, concerned, rubbing the back
of his hand with my thumb. “It’s not hurting, is it?”
He stares at me with that calm that drives me insane.
“I’m fine,” he answers simply. “My back hurts a little, but nothing you
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need to worry about.”
I smile–a small smile, but full of emotion. I hold his hand and kiss it
slowly, feeling the soft taste of his skin that both calms me and drives
me mad at the same time.
“I always worry about you, love.”
Magnus looks at me intensely, his gaze so steady and warm that I feel
my heart stumble inside my chest.
“And how are you?” he asks. “Did you manage to sleep?”
The question catches me off guard.
No one had ever asked me if I was okay–never.
And even though I never cared about that before, with him… it’s
different.
Even if it’s not concern, even if it’s just politeness, it still affects me.
The simple fact of hearing his voice, of feeling like he wants to know,
messes with everything inside me.
I feel a laugh escape, short, almost shy, and loaded with something I
didn’t even know I could feel.
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I lower my gaze to our intertwined hands on the table, as if that
touch were the only thread holding me to reality.
“Not much,” I confess. “I was still shaken by the dream. It was so
real… I’m afraid that one day you’ll run away from me.”
He sighs.
“I won’t, Adrian.” His firm voice hits me head–on, silencing everything
inside me. “And I’ll be honest here and now: if you do something or
say something that hurts me, I will. I won’t care if you kill me or
break my legs. But as long as you don’t hurt me, I won’t run.”
I slowly lift my gaze and stare at him, unable to say anything.
“I admit I already like your presence,” he continues. “Your kisses…
and this sickly care of yours. I like it.”
His words tear through me like a silent explosion. For an instant,
everything vanishes: the noise of the mess hall, the stares, and the
entire world. I only hear the sound of my heart beating far too fast.
My whole body trembles. The air seems to escape my lungs. My eyes
sting. I… I don’t know what to do with this absurd happiness. It’s as if
my chest can’t contain it all.
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He likes me.
My god… likes me.
My breath comes shallow and irregular, and my laugh mixes with a
shaky sigh. I feel the floor vanish beneath me.
Magnus quickly cups my face in his hands, startled.
“Hey, you’re breathing too hard.” His tone turns serious. “What the
hell is this? Are you going to die on me now?”
A weak laugh escapes my lips, and I rub my cheek against his palm,
nesting into his touch.
“I’m just happy,” I pronounce with a hoarse voice, overcome by
emotion. “So happy, love.”
And it’s the truth.
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Welcome to Hell
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
