by Heather Long
Kiss of Fate
Heather Long
Blake Blessing
Copyright © 2020 by Heather Long and Blake Blessing
All rights reserved.
Cover by JodieLocks Designs
Proofreader: Bookish Dreams Editing
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the authors, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Kiss of Fate
Foreword & Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
About Heather Long
About Blake Blessing
Also by Heather Long
Also By Blake Blessing
Sneak Peeks
Pin-Up Girl
Succubus Chained
Kiss of Fate
Sinner’s Keepers
Idioms are what we idiots tell ourselves to make us feel better. They're all lies.
Truth sets you free. Ha.
Justice is blind. Hardly.
Life ends when you die. Wrong!
All’s fair in love and war. Fine. I’ll give you that one. But you’d be wise to remember Fate isn’t fair, kind, or gentle.
How do I know?
I almost died. I say almost because a moment before my last breath, Judgment found me. I don’t know what he saw in me but with one kiss, he changed me irrevocably.
My name is Dahlia. I am fate.
No, I am definitely not fair.
Foreword & Dedication
Thank you for picking up Kiss of Fate. Blake and I have been batting the idea back and forth for a while of writing together because we’re a mutual admiration society. We weren’t quite sure what we wanted to do except maybe something with angels.
Vague, right?
We liked it.
Then we found the cover done by the fabulous Jodie over at Jodielocks Designs and just like that, everything clicked. Dahlia was just waiting for us to notice her.
We spent a few days debating the ideas, pitching heroes back and forth, polishing it up and finding some inspiration. When we dove into the writing? It was pretty magical. We batted it back and forth like professional tennis players who never let the ball get out of bounds.
Honestly, as we wound down to our conclusion, we couldn’t tell you specifically what Blake wrote or what Heather did. Some lines stand out, but for the most part, this book is all us.
Writing together was a treat and we look forward to doing this again. Sinner’s Keepers are definitely keepers in our book.
On that note, we want to dedicate this book to Lysanne and her beautiful little girl Rowen. They’re angels and definitely keepers. Lysanne’s simple joy in reading this for us along with Angela, Sue, and Gina made this a real treat. Hats off to Meghan (our delightful proofreader) and as always, Sara Vermillion. She’s one in a million.
Finally, just a couple of housekeeping notes!
For those of you who have never read a reverse harem before, thanks for picking this up and giving it a shot. A reverse harem means the heroine will not make a choice in this book or any other between the guys in her life. It may take her a while to reach that conclusion, but it’s the journey that drives it. There are many ways to frame this kind of relationship, currently reverse harem fits it very well.
Thank you again for reading Dahlia’s story and we truly hope you enjoy it!
—Heather and Blake
1
‘Living on borrowed time.’ Yeah, never thought that would apply to me. - Dahlia
Judgment
After millennia, finally, fucking finally, Judgment discovered the key to bringing his brothers to heel. It was nothing he would ever have expected, considering how jaded and resentful Justice and Punishment were. But here they were in a bar on the outskirts of Dallas, a city hotter than hell in August, riveted by a woman in what appeared to be a rather unpleasant argument.
Oh, how the mighty had fallen, to be so infatuated with a human they practically drooled, even as they seemed to lean toward her.
She was beautiful, like a goddess of old with her tall, slender body and midnight hair against alabaster skin. Not his type, but beautiful. Actually, now that he thought about it, not their type either. Yet they gravitated toward her as if pulled on an invisible string.
“Seth. Long time no see,” a sweet voice said from behind him. At first, he didn’t want to turn, he knew exactly who was there. Life was unpredictable with her around, definitely on the less enjoyable side. Of course, she would be here when he finally cornered his brothers.
“Karmen,” he sighed, pulling his long blond braid over his shoulder. None of the humans could see it, but it was always there.
She settled alongside him, studying the scene before them with an objective eye.
“Do Tarus and Zhan know you’re here?”
Hell no. It was no secret those bastards split off more than a few thousand years before, and for what? Because they were too tired, they didn't feel like anything they did mattered in the grand scheme of things. So fucking what? Their job wasn’t to analyze the effects of their grace, but to follow the goddamned rules. They failed.
And they kept failing.
Where did that leave Judgment? To clean up every mess they created by not using their grace where and when they should have. Each time he swept behind them, he grew a little more bitter, a little angrier. Justice and Punishment were integral to the world the Keepers had created.
It was past time for them to learn a lesson. Judgment was more than willing to deliver it, but finding something that would put a dent in their emotional armor eluded him. His was the task of rendering judgment, but he’d lacked the right punishment until now. The means by which to deliver the justice due them. No, the irony hadn’t been lost on him. By ignoring their duty, they had neutered him.
Until tonight.
Did they know he was here? He very much doubted they knew where they were at this point.
“You know the answer to that,” he growled, not willing to waste time in useless conversations.
Karmen patted him on the shoulder. “Then I won’t share your secret. But the object of their affection looks like she needs some help.” The crowd swallowed her up as she glided toward the bar.
As soon as she left him, she was forgotten, his attention returning to his brothers. The man accompanying the woman shook her so hard, Judgment winced from the whiplash. Her shoulders bunched up to her ears as she grimaced and held her head as far away from him as she could while still in his clutches. She dug her fingers into his forearms as her lips moved rapidly, but in profile, he couldn’t make out the words. Judgment edged closer, curious to hear what their argument was about, and more importantly, why Justice and Punishment were so enthralled.
“Is this fucking funny to you, Dahlia?” the man yelled, utterly unconcerned about the fact their dispute attracted an au
dience both human and very much not.
For her part, Dahlia—he turned the name over, testing the different nuances of each syllable—met the man’s furious gaze steadily, even if her lips twitched with what Judgment suspected was a nervous smile.
“No, of course not,” she said, tugging at her arm in a vain attempt to pull away. Vain because the man white-knuckled his grip, and the red marks already forming promised bruises. “Alex, it was a stupid comment.”
“Oh, of course it was,” Alex sneered. “Everything is a joke. I tell you they’re threatening to can me, and all you can say is ‘it’s not a big deal, you know how they are’? This is serious, and you’re acting like I’m the one overreacting. You know I fucking hate it when you try to belittle me that way.”
Well, Judgment considered, while it could mean exactly what she said, it definitely meant Alex here was a dick. He leaned in closer to her, his voice coming out in a rough whisper-shout, clearly audible to the other patrons. Clearly, because the cowards edged away, darting looks like most humans did when tragedy unfolded around them and they had to gawk like spectators.
“Alex,” Dahlia said his name in a soft rasp, the echo of tears coating her voice but no recrimination. Shock rippled through Judgment. What she offered was not rebuke but comfort. Instead of pulling away, she pushed in and spread her hand against the man’s chest. “I’m sorry. I wanted to make it better, and I made it worse.”
“Fucking right, you made it worse. I’m not some shit loser you scrape off your expensive shoes.” A little bit of spit jumped from his lips as he spoke and struck her cheek. The absolute lack of reaction on her part puzzled Judgment.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, rubbing a slow circle with her palm. The man’s agitation seemed to diminish, but that was an act. His eyes remained hostile and heated, his grip fierce, and no mistaking the faint grind of his teeth. “Seriously, Baby. What they’re doing sucks. They would be absolute jackasses to let you go.”
“Except, they’re probably joking with me, right? Having a laugh at my expense,” he snapped, then released her abruptly. If Judgment hadn’t been studying them so closely, he might have missed her wince. The breath she released wasn’t one of relief.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, her voice pitched even lower. With each passing moment, she diminished herself. Her shoulders pulled in a little tighter, her chin went down, her eyes dipped. The fierce candle guttered in the gale, but it didn’t go out. No, her actions were a choice. The worthless piece of shit in front of her didn’t deserve the woman struggling against the dark rage consuming her… Hmm, he wouldn’t use the word partner.
“You will be,” the worthless piece of shit muttered, but the lack of reaction from Dahlia suggested she hadn’t heard the words.
Judgment’s brothers had.
They stared at the pair of them. Justice’s grayish-brown eyes grew more morose by the moment. Punishment, on the other hand, began to toy with a coin, fidgeting with it across his palm and then making it dance over his knuckles. The very contained action offered the first suggestion Judgment had seen of his brother’s true self in countless years. For the first time in millennia, Judgment could see their desire to intervene, to do what their grace demanded, but they didn’t act on it.
Dahlia folded her arms, hugged herself more, rubbing her palms against her biceps. The fierce red flush of the marks Alex had left on her biceps stained her pale skin like blood on snow.
“Let’s go,” Alex snapped as he tossed a couple of bills on the table. She didn’t argue, even if her drink had barely been touched. Snagging her purse, she hesitated for one, endless moment. Her gaze not on Alex, or even on Judgment’s irritatingly useless siblings, but on another man seated at the bar. A man she gave a swift, negative head shake to and then a faint tremulous smile.
Swinging his gaze, Judgment frowned. The tall man leaned against the bar, his attention—like Judgment’s brothers—focused on Dahlia. The russet, reddish-brown of his skin glowed under the lights from overhead. His eyes were almost tawny, and his lips parted as the barest hint of a smile curved them.
He looked almost pleased.
Almost.
Judgment pivoted.
Dahlia was gone.
His brothers?
They lifted a drink to each other as if in a defeated toast, then knocked it back, but they looked far from happy.
Punishment even stole a glance toward the door.
That decided him, and he moved. They couldn’t have gone far.
Whoever Dahlia was, Judgment had to know more.
Now.
Humid, sticky air assaulted him when he stepped out of Sinner’s. The sidewalk was mostly deserted, just a few passersby here and there. He easily caught sight of the couple crossing the street at the next intersection. Even from a distance, Alex was nearly dragging Dahlia behind him, seemingly unaware or uncaring as she struggled to keep up with his fast pace.
Judgment jogged to catch up, careful to not alert them to his presence. It wasn’t hard for someone like him. Humans saw what they wanted to see, and if he put even the smallest amount of effort into it, they couldn’t see him at all.
He followed them for two blocks before they entered a moderately upscale apartment building. As if Dahlia sensed the night was only going to get worse, she tried to extract herself from his punishing grip. Just like in Sinner’s, she wasn’t strong enough to be a match for Alex as he pulled her to the stairwell instead of the elevator bay. The lobby was deserted, and chances were, no one would take the stairs at this time of night.
Where was the night guard? The front desk was empty, but a steaming cup of coffee sat on the counter. Dahlia must have been on the bad side of Luck tonight.
“I have to stop by my mother’s, Alex. Let me go, she has a package for me, and she’ll worry if I don’t show up to get it.” Her voice was strained, her face scrunched up in a pained grimace.
Alex shoved the door open and yanked her inside, distracted enough for Judgment to slip through undetected. He might be able to hide his presence, but he couldn’t walk through walls or doors.
“What the fuck ever. Your mother hates me, and if she thinks she can keep you away from me, she will.”
“Let go of me, Alex!” Some sense of self-preservation kicked in, and she slammed one of her palms into his shoulder, but it only enraged him further. He did let go of her arm, only to grab a fistful of her beautiful hair.
A foreign feeling beat at Judgment as he watched the horribly sad scene unfold in front of him. He didn’t need any of his grace to know how tonight was going to end. He’d seen it too many times over the long history of humans. Still, he didn’t want to see anything bad happen to this beautiful woman because she had the misfortune to hook her star to a piece of human filth like Alex.
“Bitch, you think you’re so much better than me. You’ve always thought it. I’m fucking tired of trying to impress you, and give you the world when you don’t fucking appreciate it.” They were roughly the same in height, if you counted the fact she had on rather high heels, but Alex had a good fifty or sixty pounds on Dahlia. He easily hauled her up several flights of stairs.
There was no reason for Judgment to follow after them, he simply shifted at the foot of the stairs so part of their bodies came into view. Were Justice and Punishment interested in her because they knew what was coming?
He knew, but it didn’t increase his interest in her. Humans acted on their baser instincts all the time, spreading evil into the world. She was just one more human who would experience injustice at the hands of a loved one.
“I’m sorry!” Dahlia cried as she fought to loosen his grip on her hair. “I didn’t mean it. I never wanted you to feel like I don’t appreciate you. Please! Just stop, and we’ll talk about this!”
He stopped on a random platform and rammed her into the wall, the sound of her head cracking against the concrete reverberated around the enclosed stairwell.
“No more, Dahlia! I’m done
.” He repeatedly slammed her into the unforgiving concrete, then scoffed in disgust right before he tossed her down the stairs.
The world stilled. More to the point, Judgment did. Grace afforded him many talents, and in this, he looked for some possible solution before she continued pitching down the rough stairs. Each outcome cycled through the same.
No one deserved the fate awaiting Dahlia. Every blow of her soft body against the unforgiving concrete did damage. The human excrement watched her tumble down that flight. Not moving, Judgment waited. The sound of her breathing flowed to him along with the soft thud of her anxious heart.
Alive.
A look came over the male’s face, and Judgment’s hackles raised. Until this moment, the filth had been fueled by pure, unreasonable fury. A madness that afflicted their kind. While deplorable, it often led to impulsive, if unforgivable, actions. The universe paused and Judgment with it, until the male took the first step, then the next.
She had survived that first fall. Though hurt, she was alive.
When his foot connected with her and sent her tumbling down the next flight, her head struck another step and the distinct crunch of bone reverberated through Judgment. Malice aforethought.
Alex wanted her dead.
Bastard.
Murderer.
The fleeting thought slipped through his reserve a split second before the garbage turned on his heel and fled up the stairs, leaving Dahlia’s broken body alone in the cold, empty stairwell.