Welcome to Hell (by Williane Kassia) novel Chapter 221

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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Chapter 221

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.”

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