Thorns of Fate

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Thorns of Fate Page 27

by Hayley Todd


  He pulled away, blood still fresh on his lips. His eyes searched me. For untoward effects? I wasn’t sure. He looked satisfied after a moment so I returned my lips to his neck and chest, layering him with kisses.

  My back was pressed up against a solid wall and he clutched me to him, as though if he held me any lighter, I might drift away altogether. I gasped, moaning his name as he kissed along my neck again. He didn’t bite me this time but he did gently wipe the bite wound, clearing any remaining blood.

  He dropped me to my feet for a moment and I was still too weak to stand. I leaned against the wall for support. He lifted his hands and pressed them against the wall to either side of my head, kissing me hard. I pulled him to me, my fingers running into his hair.

  His hands fumbled at the waistband of my jeans and I reached down, flicking the button open so he could easily shimmy them over my hips. He kissed me as he dropped them slowly to the floor, his lips pressing against my hips, down my thighs, along my knees.

  My legs quivered beneath him.

  He dropped my jeans and panties to the floor in a pile and I cautiously stepped out of them, kicking them to the side and clear of our feet. He immediately grabbed me again, hoisting me back up against the wall, legs wrapped around his hips again. He growled, low in his chest, predatory, hungry. It rolled through me, sending spasms of pleasure down my legs.

  I pulled him down, kissing along his chin, the stubble tickling my lips.

  He ground against me, his jeans still in place but his fingers quickly undoing the button and zipper. His glow had all but encompassed me now, laying across me like a fog against my skin. My body fought hard to process all of the incoming data. I felt the burn of desire I always did for this man that I loved but I also felt darker, needy feelings pooled in my belly and more faintly, the predatory lust that he exuded.

  I sank my teeth into his neck and my consciousness flickered for a moment, overloaded by the sensations around me. He let me drink, running his hands over my skin, exploring my body. I finally pulled back on a gasp, his blood dripping from my chin.

  He narrowed wicked green eyes on me and kissed me, making a mess of my meal on both of us. In this moment, he didn’t seem to care.

  He placed his palm over my heart and stared into me as it began emitting a dark blue haze of light that pressed into my skin. My heartbeat quickened and I knew that I couldn’t resist him if I tried. I wanted him. I needed him. Now.

  His teeth punctured my neck again, blinding my senses with ecstasy as he thrust into me. I screamed, unable to cover the sound, but not caring if I did.

  He rocked into me with furious movements, drinking carelessly from my neck. His fingers were still splayed across my now exposed breasts. He must’ve discarded the bra when I was senseless.

  I ground against him, eager to fill him with the same pleasure. His jaw was tense. He was trying desperately to stay in control. I could feel him pulling from my lifeblood and I could feel him tugging at my exquisite explosion of ecstasy at the same time. The experience was mind-blowing and life altering.

  He pulled me closer before collapsing me on the bed, amidst an ocean of blankets and sheets. My legs were still wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer and he pressed into me with eager abandon.

  I watched him, every inch of me filled with desire as he slammed into me again and again. His face was a figure of juxtaposition. He was enjoying this. It was sketched into his every feature. But he was trying desperately not to. I could watch the fight take place, his desires fighting hard against his wishes.

  His rhythm increased, his will shedding from him as he pressed into me with wild fervor. I embraced it, I embraced him, my body shuddering with pulses of incomprehensible pleasure.

  After what felt simultaneously like hours and yet only seconds passing, our timing melded perfectly. He lit up the entire room, his power emanating from his skin as a dark blue sheen.

  I couldn’t help but watch him, watch this powerful predator in his most natural state. His fangs were protruding from his lips but he didn’t seem to notice, or didn’t care. I didn’t know which.

  My body pulsed into a lightning crescendo and he bucked against me. I shuddered, unable to control or hold back the shaking he instilled in me now. He breathed deeply and some of the light receded from me, soaking into his skin. His eyes fell to me as he rolled against me, power resonating from him. The dark green orbs filled with pleasure as I finally exploded, not able to contain any more ecstasy.

  My world blossomed into light, even the music in my ears drowned out from it. I was blinded, unable to even see him, as my body exploded into a crescendo of pleasure. I screamed his name, my nails raking across his chest.

  “Oh, Kyra,” he gasped before releasing in me and collapsing only seconds later, breathing hard against my chest.

  We lay there for a long time, twisted around each other in his sheets. My head rested on his abdomen know, the muscles there as hard as the skin was soft. He smelled heavenly, like sweet sweat and musk. He was mine. I was his.

  His fingers played with strands of hair that had fallen around my face. “Satisfied?” he asked on a pleased sigh. His breathing had returned to normal by now, as had mine.

  I lifted my head to see him grinning down at me triumphantly. I couldn’t help but smile.

  I snuggled into his chest. “I am quite satisfied Mr. Carder,” I replied playfully.

  He let out a breath on an exhale, as though he were relieved.

  “You did it,” I said, running my fingertips down his skin. He shivered beneath my touch and ran his hand over my hair.

  “We did,” he replied. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” I asked.

  He pressed a kiss to my forehead, which bulged the muscles of his abdomen against me. “For letting me try.”

  I smiled, unable to hide my glee. “How was it?” I asked him.

  “Aren’t you not supposed to kiss and tell?” he responded.

  I smacked him on his chest softly. He laughed.

  “It was...incredible. I was worried for you at first. I didn’t want to draw too much or overwhelm you but...I couldn’t resist you either. Did I hurt you?” he asked, running the back of his finger down my cheek, gently.

  I chuckled softly at the concern. “No, far from it actually.”

  He huffed a happy sigh, playing with my hair.

  “I stand by my sex god comment,” I replied suddenly, quietly. This made him fully laugh and he kissed me again.

  “We’ll agree to disagree on that one then,” he replied, still laughing. His laughter was a joyous sound and I loved hearing it. A wide grin slipped across my lips. It was even better when I was the one to cause it.

  A knock suddenly sounded from the door, not his suite door, the bedroom door.

  I leapt off of him, scrambling to cover my naked body with his sheets before whoever was here could stride in. He sat up slowly, not surprised or startled strangely enough. He looked softly down at me, fighting a smirk at my new blanket fort crisscrossing my body.

  “It’s your dad,” he breathed. His expression seemed to be torn between dismay and the perfect blissfulness of the last several hours. He got up, pulling a pair of sweatpants from his dresser drawer and snuggling them comfortably over his hips.

  I watched him, eyes wide, as he crossed the room and slipped the door open only inches.

  “I’m sorry to wake you,” came my father’s voice from the other side of the door. He was either oblivious to Carson’s mop of dark hair or he pretended to be. “I need you, now. The Magick has been...uncooperative.”

  Carson leaned away from the door for a moment, gazing at me from my hiding place. He fought back a smile, his eyes dancing. I didn’t know how he kept his cool with Damien only steps away but he showed no sign that he noticed any tension. He turned back to my dad and jerked his head in a nod. “I’ll speak with her,” he replied.

  There was a long pause and I could see nothing but Carson’s back, his bare sk
in dark in the shadows of the room. “I know she’s in there,” my father said and my blood ran cold. He didn’t say it angrily or with any hint of emotion actually. I wasn’t sure if that was good or worse. “Bring her along,” he commanded, stepping away from the door.

  When I was paying attention, I could hear his footsteps retreat all the way to the suite door. Carson turned to me before making his way to his dresser and tugging a tank top out for himself. He then fished out an oversized t-shirt, another pair of sweatpants, and a grey hoodie. He pulled his tank top on, tossing the rest to me. He cast a smile over his shoulder as he sauntered into the bathroom.

  “That should hide the bruises,” he replied, somber.

  Bruises?

  I leapt to my feet, collecting the clothes and walking into the bathroom behind him. He had flicked on the light and it exposed the room’s decadence. I wanted nothing more than to sink into his whirlpool tub but I knew based on his rigid posture that I didn’t have time right now.

  He was currently dabbing along his neck with a washcloth, scrubbing dried blood from his skin. He handed me a clean one and I looked into the mirror for the first time in days.

  My hair was dark as ever but was in a matted pile, tangled and twisted. My eyes were lively but dark bags had formed beneath them. I was definitely thinner than I had been before the change, maybe not by much but there was definitely a different. My face was leaner, my body a touch slimmer.

  I was naked and immediately identified what he had meant. There was a dark hand-shaped bruise pressed into my chest above my heart. A stain of purple black also ran from just below my ear to my chin. I looked to him in the mirror, eyes wide.

  He was already staring at me, his eyes troubled.

  I healed so fast from minor wounds that I was stunned a bruise would even take. My chest looked like I had been hit by a hand-shaped truck. The purple marks stretched out across my chest, fading as it neared my shoulders.

  “How?” I gasped, gently touching the spot.

  He sighed, running his hands through his hair and turned to me, gently placing his palm over the matching mark. “I drew from here,” he replied. The shape beneath was completely hidden by his hand, though the tendrils of dark skin towards my shoulders were still exposed. “And here,” he said again, gently tucking my hair aside to see two round purple marks beneath my ear and the line of bruising that ran away from them.

  “I haven’t healed,” I said, confused.

  “We haven’t made an effort to,” he replied, running his finger gently over my skin. I shivered. “That power, its referred to as ‘The Allure’. It is a magic of its own. Evidently your casual healing doesn’t take care of that.” He bit into his wrist without another word and offered the limb to me.

  I gazed up at him, his once playful eyes were sad now which broke my heart. I wished I hadn’t walked in here without first dressing. It was obvious he had already noted the bruising but it hurt to see how it wounded him.

  I took his arm, pressing my lips tenderly to the wound and drinking. After a few moments, I released him and returned my gaze to the mirror. The bruise along my neck was faint now, nearly faded completely. The handprint against my ribcage had lightened in color but was a swirl of blue, black, and healing yellow, definitely still visible.

  I pulled his t-shirt over my head and could still see the lingering teeth marks at my neck. He offered me a washcloth and I took it, quickly dousing one corner and wiping my neck clean of blood. It looked a little better after that, but I still tugged his hoodie over my head and was relieved to see that the way the hood bunched up along my neck blocked sight of the wound.

  He seemed to relax a little once the bruises had vanished beneath the clothing.

  I tugged the sweatpants on and realized that these were in my size. “Why do these fit me?” I asked, turning and admiring how they looked on me. They hung loosely from my body but seemed to fit my form perfectly where they needed to.

  He swiped an admiring gaze over me. “They’re yours. I had some things purchased for you in case you wanted them,” he replied. He stepped out of the bathroom and I followed. He made quick work of swinging his walk-in closet door. I had known there was a closet here but hadn’t imagined its size would be like this.

  He stepped into the room and ran his hands along two rows of clothing, one on the right, the other on the left. On the left side, hangers held dinner jackets, slacks, and rows of leather dress shoes. On the right, were gowns and formal sweaters along with khakis, slacks, and a variety of shoes, some high heeled, some flat. It looked more like he had bought me one of every style clothing imaginable.

  I stood there, mesmerized. “You bought all of this? For me?” I asked, astonished.

  He nodded and took my hands in his and pressed his lips to my fingers. “Of course, my princess,” he replied, a smile finally reappearing on his tense face.

  I leaned up on my toes, pressing a kiss to his lips and returned to his bedroom after grabbing a pair of socks and unassuming tennis shoes from the rack in the closet. He seemed pleased that I took part in his selections. Everything fit perfectly and I actually liked all of the styles I had to choose from. I wondered silently if he had had assistance or if he was just that good.

  After we had both cleaned ourselves up and dressed, he took my hand in his and pressed another kiss to my lips. “Damien is waiting for us. That Magick we captured may very well be the key to finding Henrick but she’s not opening up. He wants me to see what I can get out of her.” He ran his thumb across the back of my knuckles in a soothing gesture before guiding me out of his suite and back into the hall.

  He started trekking through the endless identical halls, pulling me by my hand. The white haired woman who I had seen not once, but twice now. She may be the key to finding Henrick, to finding Will. I had to calm my breaths as we advanced down the hall. I didn’t know what Carson could truly do to draw information from her but if my dad trusted him, then I sure did.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The hall outside of the interrogation room was crowded with people. Damien stood there, speaking quietly to Lady Evelyn Stark and her protégé, Liam. Anton stood at Damien’s side, quietly. His eyes met mine as we approached, a cocky half-smirk plastered on his face. He looked like he was pretending to be at ease, but was actually the opposite.

  Carson held my hand as we walked down the hall and Anton watched our clasped palms warily. He didn’t speak but acted as though he were Damien’s shadow.

  “...adding Liam to your security detail,” Evelyn was finishing as we approached. Damien looked thoughtful for a long moment before turning to me. His eyes ran me up and down and I silently begged everything in the world for the bruises to remain hidden. I’d readily accepted what may come of our dalliance but I didn’t want my father to ask me about it.

  “What do you think, Kyra? Evelyn has proposed Carson, Anton, and Liam being your security detail at the coronation. We believe Henrick May try something there,” Damien explained.

  I nodded, watching Liam carefully. I had never paid much attention to him as he’d always been a figure in the backdrop. He wasn’t part of what had become my inner circle but I couldn’t fault the logic. He could sense human magic before it came and Henrick was using a legion of witches to do his bidding. It only made sense for him to stay close.

  “That sounds good to me,” I responded.

  Damien nodded as though my acquiescence had merely been a formality. He looked over my head to Carson and then jerked his head toward the interrogation room. “Let’s get started. Tomorrow is a big day and I know you could all use some sleep.”

  I hadn’t much considered the time but a look around the hall backed up what he was saying. All of us looked ragged and exhausted.

  Liam held the viewing room door open, allowing Anton and myself to step through. Evelyn quickly issued goodbyes to Liam before turning to me.

  “My princess,” she greeted with a slight curtsy. I tried to mimic her as a response but
it felt awkward in sweats and a hoodie. “I must finalize arrangements for the coronation, so I must part. But I look forward to getting to speaking with you at the event.”

  “Thank you for your time,” I replied. She nodded and scurried back down the hall.

  I stepped past Liam, into the room beyond and chose to stand near the mirrored glass instead of sitting on the couch near Anton. I caught him watching me carefully from the corner of my eye, though.

  Through the glass, I could see the white haired Magick seated calmly. Her eyes were a violet that matched the bolts of energy she had pegged at me through the fog. She was pretty, beautiful even. She had a tender pixie shaped face and round purple eyes. While her hair was white, it didn’t seem to age her. It gave her an ethereal presence. Her skin was paler even than my own.

  She had her arms folded on the table before her and I could easily see the thick dark colored metal shackles around her wrists. The only move she made to show that she noticed when Damien and Carson entered the room was a quick flick of her eyes in their direction.

  Carson leaned against the wall near the door, his arms crossed over his chest. Damien sat in a chair opposite her. He shot a glance at Carson before he spoke.

  “Good morning,” he began as though this were a typical night for him. “This here,” he gestured toward Carson, “is my friend Mr. Carder. He has a...unique gift of which I believe you’ve already experienced. He is here to assist us in the eventuality that you choose not to speak to us.”

  The woman’s eyes widened, just barely. I wouldn’t have noticed it if I hadn’t been watching her so closely. She swept her gaze up to Carson and then narrowed her eyes on the table before her.

  Okay, that was odd. Was she scared of him?

  “I am well aware of what you can do,” she replied, quietly, speaking directly to Carson. He didn’t react, simply watching her with disinterest. She spoke with an accent that I was fairly certain was French but it was difficult to tell. She had a broken way of speaking, her cadence not natural.

 

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