Chapter Fifty-One

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I threw the door to his room open in anger, the wooden frame crashing against something with a large crash before I slammed it back closed. Loki was immediately by my side, concern etched into his face.

"Elskan, what is wrong?" I scowled at him, reaching into the subspace, and conjuring a glass and a bottle of expensive whiskey I had stolen a while ago from Tony's bar.

"They won't lower the settings." I hissed before pouring myself a large glass. A green light flashed near me as an identical cup appeared. I was surprised he woulduse the limited seiðr he possessed for something like that, but didn't sayanything. I poured another large glass for him, and he took a seat next to me and sipped his as I downed mine. I relished in the sting in my throat and the warmth from my chest and stomach.

"Talk me through what happened." I sighed deeply, putting my glass down but not moving to fill it up again.

"I called them into the longue to tell them that I trusted you, and it didn't go well. Thor was on our side, for the most part. But everyone else..." My words drifted off as I remembered the eyerolls and comments. I had never felt more like an outsider here. I thought they would at least listen to me. "In the end, even Thor agreed that your seiðr should remain bound." He held a finger up near my forehead and I leant into it, showing him the conversation that transpired. The comments and the looks from Tony, the accusations of my betrayal from Barton and the reluctant agreement from Thor. Angry harsh words spilled from his lips as he walked over to the bookshelf. He did nothing to hide the rage he felt, his fists clenching and his jaw tightening.

"You need to leave." He hissed through gritted teeth. But I did not at all attempt to walk away.

"It really isn't wise to be in my company right now, Kaya." He was trying to force the anger out of his voice, but still came out in a rough tone. I frowned at the sound, wanting to comfort him. It was frustrating that they were treating him like this even after I vouched for him. Even more so for how they had just treated me because of it. Perhaps they thought he deceived me somehow, or they didn't trust me still. Ignoring all the warnings, I walked over to him and placed my hand on his bicep. He stiffened further at the contact, and I could feel the muscle flex beneath me. His lips uttered my name in another warning.

"Let me help."

"You don't want to help." He yelled at me, walking away from me, and beginning to pace in the middle of the room. Unable to help myself, I briefly allowed my magic to push into his mind, his shields being down due to his lack of seiðr making it extremely easy. Loki lost it when he'd realised I'd tried to snoop around in his head, but I wasn't focussing on his anger at me. Instead, I was thinking about the images I saw, of what he wanted to do with me to help him. Blushing at the roughness he desired, I cast my eyes down and thought about it. He wanted to cause me pain that was clear, and that should have made me run. But there was nothing there that would show he wanted to permanently hurt me. No, he wanted to have control over me to help him with his loss of control in the situation. Ever so slightly, I rubbed my thighs together as desire shot through me. Would I even enjoy it, him hurting me as much as he wished? I already knew I liked some pain and he often talked of punishment before.

"You could at least pay attention to me." His voice hissed through gritted teeth once more and I finally noticed how close he was to me. He brought an index finger under my chin and forced me to look into his deep emerald eyes. "You know you are never to do that without permission." He was beyond pissed at this point and a worrying part of me enjoyed that. Despite him thinking about taking his anger out on me though, he did not act to do so. Yet part of me craved to find out.

"I guess you should punish me then." I whispered, watching the surprise in his eyes as his lips parted ever so slightly.

"Kaya... I really shouldn't indulge that side of me. Not at the moment." He was right, of course. He probably shouldn't. He could get carried away, and what if he really hurt me? However, no part of me thought he would abuse the trust I placed in him. He craved trust too much, was hurt too much when it was taken away even when he deserved to lose it. With a deep breath, I dropped my shields. Never losing eye contact with him, I projected my thoughts onto him. Remembering how he had imagined hurting me sexually and showing him how my body enjoyed it. I also showed my hesitancy, hoping to push him in the right direction so he would respect my boundaries. He became lost in thought, his hand idly stroking the side of my neck as he did. Unconsciously, I had begun to lean by head backwards to provide him further access to my neck.

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