by Liza James
Leon halts his steps, just as the knob to his door vanishes in front of him. It’s Elijah, altering the space to force Leon’s attention. He turns his head slightly, but doesn’t meet our eyes as he speaks.
“I spoke to her, yes. But I don’t have any answers for you. I still don’t know where the hell she is. She doesn’t want to be found, Elijah.” Leon’s voice is strained in his throat, and I can feel the tension pulling tightly between all of us. Leon wants to find her for entirely different reasons than the rest of us do. Stella and I are constantly trying to stay one step ahead of him. If we can get to her first, we can keep her safe from her Fated.
Never thought those words would pass through my mind, though. The fact that we have to keep a Fated safe from their other half. Even through all of the newly realized and connected pairings that have been slowly coming forward, we’ve never dealt with a situation quite like Amelia and Leon’s.
“Then go farther, search deeper, force her to fucking show up.” Elijah’s voice is clipped and the anger building in his chest spirals through my own. I slip my hand behind my back and through his fingers, pulling him against me and trying to reassure him through our bond.
“We’re running out of time, Leon,” I say gently, wishing that whatever they’ve been through wasn’t such a massive wall erected between them. I want more than anything for them to find each other in their bond, in the ways Elijah and I have found each other. But I don’t think it’s possible for them…there’s far too much blood and hatred imbedded in their histories.
“What do you expect to do when we find her?” Leon’s head whips around and his shoulders stiffen as he speaks. He takes a step towards me, his frame growing impossibly larger as his eyes fall darker. “Do you think you can fix her, mo dheamon?” His tone takes a sarcastic turn as he uses Elijah’s name for me.
“Say it again and I’ll rip your fucking throat out.” Elijah’s huge body is suddenly in front of mine, his chest pressed up against Leon’s as he forces him back and against the door. But Leon isn’t about to back down, and in the same instant his eyes have ghosted over in a new color we’ve only experienced a handful of times.
It isn’t white, and it doesn’t happen when he’s feeding from sexual tension. No, this is when his eyes have turned completely black. Sleek orbs of complete evil and anger. He feeds from the darkness, rather than sex, and it’s not a characteristic any of us are familiar with. It started happening only after him and Amelia had bonded.
“Elijah—” I start, but Leon’s altered voice quickly cuts me off.
“She’s nothing but an easy sleeve to fuck and kill. Do you think she loves you? Is that it? Any of you?” Leon laughs, the gritty texture his voice takes on is both sick and disturbing. “We already know she threw you away years ago.” He aims his dig at Elijah, and even though I know it no longer hurts him, it’s a piece of his past which took years to heal from.
He tilts his head to the side as his black eyes find my own. Fear snakes its way through my chest but I force it back, reminding myself that this is only a side effect of whatever is happening inside of Leon and Amelia’s bond. “She tried to kill you. She would have killed Stella if given the chance. She doesn’t love, you guys. She has never loved. Will never love. All she will ever be capable of is burning and hurting.”
“You don’t know that,” Stella’s heated voice chirps out beside me as she steps into our little encounter and slips her hand through mine. We stand united, while Elijah holds Leon in place and tries to remain calm.
“I don’t know that? Are you fucking kidding me?” Leon groans, his head falls back against the door with a heavy thud and his shoulders fall in what looks like surrender. “I’m the only fucking one who does know that. I’m the one who knows her best.” He suddenly shoves Elijah back, trying to end this conversation but just as Elijah steps forward again, I reach forward and wrap my fingers around his arm to hold him back.
“I know you don’t believe us. I know you’ve lost all hope for Amelia and I know that she’s done unspeakable and irredeemable things. We all understand that.” I pull Elijah back as Stella aligns herself with the two of us.
“But you don’t get to claim her death as your own!” Nathanial’s voice explodes from behind all of us as he steps in to join as well. “We will find her, with or without you.”
Leon’s chest begins rising and falling with heavy breaths. His fists clench at his sides and I can’t help but notice the red wash of anger as it works up his tattooed neck and over his jaw. He’s grinding his teeth, and the veins building against his skin only add to the darkness billowing around him. “She belongs to me,” he says as his voice drops lower. A snarl rips from his lips as he speaks and the tension continues pulling around us.
“She belongs to herself,” Stella says slowly, enunciating each individual word so that he comprehends what she’s saying. “Don’t lose yourself to this darkness. None of us want to lose you, Leon.”
“Let him go,” I finally say, squeezing Elijah’s hand gently to catch his attention. He’s tense and ready for whatever might be coming, but I know this will only end in dangerous measures. It’s a constant struggle, trying to keep the peace in this house. Leon loses his mind a little more each day, his body unravels another inch the longer he and Amelia are apart.
We’re running out of time… For both him and Amelia.
Chapter Four
Elijah
I do it. I release the hold I had on this small space of reality and let him leave. But only because I’m this fucking close to killing the mother fucker. Every single day is another test of my strength in not ripping him limb from limb. He’s lucky I have Luna, and the entire fallen race to keep me from ruining him.
Leon turns around and immediately stalks into his room, still soaked in his clothes as he shuts the door behind him. I groan out in frustration and turn on my heels, my hands already seeking Luna’s skin while Nathanial turns towards Stella.
“Don’t forget about the party, Leon! Ruby and Aura will be here in two hours!” Stella shouts through his door.
This fucking party. I’m only putting up with it because it was Luna’s idea. She knows that none of us will celebrate Christmas… that’s actually a great fucking joke. But the traditions and decorations surrounding the secular translation? I can tolerate that—for her.
“Mo dheamon,” I whisper in Luna’s ear as I grip her waist tightly. I step us forward, and catch Nathanial pulling Stella back into his hold by her hair. He’s muttering something to her, probably things I don’t want to hear. But my attention is secured on my Fated, while her ice flows through my heated blood, calming me in the times I need it most and solidifying my strength at others. “Go.” I push her forward and towards the door to our bedroom. She pauses momentarily, but when I wrap my fingers around the nape of her neck she obeys my demand.
“Please, do not keep her long, Elijah. I need her help finishing the decorations,” Stella quickly says, just as I push open our door and throw Luna into our room.
“Use my brother. Luna will be busy for a while.” Stella opens her mouth to refute, but Nathanial slams his hand over her lips before she can speak. He grips her wrists in between his fingers and tugs them behind her back, pulling her down the rest of the hallway while I shut Luna and I in our room.
“We should discuss our plans for Amelia moving forward. Now that Leon has made contact—” I begin speaking as I turn on my heels in order to face Luna. I expect to see her facing me, waiting to converse over this new information. But I’m surprised to find her turned away, her hands lifted and slipping into the back of her hair as she pulls it over one shoulder.
"We should," she replies, glancing over to me briefly before turning around and stepping back until she sits on the edge of our bed. She braces her hands behind her, shoulders pulled back while my eyes immediately drop to rake over her body. Tight, dark wash jeans and a low cut, Burgundy silk tank. That's what she's wearing.
Did she wear th
at in the bathroom with Leon? Fuck, I'll kill him if he looked at her with anything but brotherly-fucking-intentions.
"Have you been wearing that all night?" I ask, stepping towards her. She glances down quickly, and I can feel the spike in her pulse as my eyes narrow on her flushed skin. Her eyes stay glued to the floor as she refuses to meet my gaze again. Mother fucker, she has been.
In an instant, her eyes snap up to mine and I can feel the defensive heat rolling through our blood. She stands and steps towards me, her chest coming flat against my own. "I can wear whatever I want, Elijah."
My lips lift in a confident smile, she knows what she's doing. Pushing me, teasing me, testing my patience with her rebellion. My hand darts forward and my fingers wrap around her throat as I stalk us both towards the bed. "Yeah? Can you?" I dip my head forward, brushing my lips against her ear while her breath races in the space between us. Her hands lift and grip the arm that's pressed against her. She tries to pull my hand free of her throat, but it's useless. I'm not letting her go now.
"Elijah," she says breathlessly, and I drag my teeth across the edge of her jaw while I tighten my hold on her. This is what I love, the sight of my marked skin decorating her creamy flesh. Always opposites, her and I. She's the actual other half of my soul, and while she constantly pushes me towards the edge, she's the one lighting my blood on fire with her pleas for more.
"You know what you do look good in, mo dheamon?" My voice drops lower, the instinctual growl working its way through my tone. I can't control it anymore, she draws out this primal hunt inside of me. I’m always stalking her, always feeling for her, always demanding more of her.
"What?" she asks, and I can't help but smirk at the craving need she not only speaks but radiates through our bond.
“This.” I press my fingers tightly against the soft skin under her jaw. “My hand around your neck, my skin against yours.”
She moans softly, her blood working through mine while our bond flourishes between us. It’s thriving, with every word, every cry, every moan, each touch. Her fingers drag across my skin while she tries to maintain even breaths.
I’ll never get used to this, the electrical vibrations rolling under our skin when we’re together. It’s a blend of our blood, the bond, our Fated connection and what we have together. It’s so incredibly different than anything I ever experienced before, and it feeds every ounce of hunger inside of me with everything that is Luna.
Quickly, I flip Luna around so that her back is pressed against my chest. I slide my forearm across the front of her neck and pull back, forcing her to arch against me, pressing her sweet little ass into my already strained cock. I roll my hips against hers, pushing into her through the barrier of clothes between us. My other hand falls to her stomach, my fingers dropping lower until I slip them underneath the edge of her silk top.
“You’re lucky I don’t kill Leon for looking at you,” I whisper against her neck, brushing my lips across her skin until I bite down on the thin skin over her shoulder.
“Elijah, you know it’s never anything like that.”
“I don’t fucking care, it would give me a reason to be rid of him.” My fingers drop lower so that I can quickly unbutton her jeans and slide my hand down the front of her panties. I pull her against me, using my hand to drag her back while I roll forward again. She gasps, her breath hitching in her throat when my finger finds her clit. Hell, she’s so wet—I fucking love it.
I pull my hand out and brush it against her lips, until she’s forced to open her mouth and I can shove my fingers inside. “Taste yourself, mo dheamon. Can you even control how I fucking affect you?”
She sucks, bringing my fingers even further down her throat until she gags and tenses around my touch. I laugh, pushing even farther this time until I hear that sweet sound again.
“So fucking sweet,” I grind out. “That sound.” Suddenly, I shove her forward, until she’s bent over the edge of the bed and my hands find her waist. I pull her ass back and against my cock again, rocking into her while she moans against my hold.
I slide my hands up the center of her back, pushing her farther into the mattress and come back down so that my fingers slide under the waistband of her jeans. Yanking them down, along with her panties, I expose her pretty ass entirely. Her pale skin is marked in shallow bruises of what we’ve done nights before. Remnants of our wars, our heated moments of uncontrolled attraction.
I run my thumb across one of the bruises and press down, watching as her back rises and falls at the touch. “You want more, Luna?” I ask her, not because I want her permission, but because I want to see how far she’s willing to take this.
She nods her head, her cheek pressed to the mattress but she doesn’t speak.
“Say it,” I demand, as I drop one hand on the center of her back and shove her farther over. I lean back, dropping my gaze lower until I’m staring at her wet pussy.
So fucking wet. She’s practically dripping, and I can’t help but run a single finger through her cunt.
“More,” she begs. “Please, I want more.”
I lean forward again and pull my hand off of her until I’m hovering over her ass. I swing it down, slapping against the already bruised skin she’s donning. Hard, the sound crashes through the room and she flinches at my touch. Her whimper is so much more than pain—it’s her pleasure. And I feel it infecting our bond with her need for more.
I slip my hand into my back pocket and pull out something new we haven’t tried yet. I’m not sure how she’ll take it, but the urge to illicit a little more pain from her screams through my chest. She knows it though, there aren’t any secrets between us because she can read everything so clearly in our bond. I don’t shut that part off from her anymore.
Using one hand, I unbutton my own jeans, shoving them down and releasing my hard cock so that it falls between us. My piercing sits at the head, already shining with that little bead of cum for her. I wrap my fist around the base and slide it through her pussy, dragging the silver piercing along her clit while she arches her back at the touch.
“Elijah,” she moans my name and fuck, I want to slide inside of her already. Fuck her until she’s screaming and I’m throwing her head through our fucking bed.
“Not yet,” I say as I slide my cock along her slit a second time, pushing my head inside of her for just a moment before pulling back out again. “Fuck.”
I use my other hand to flick the lighter I pulled from my jeans. The little flame flashes at the spark and my eyes hone in on the small source of heat. It dances in my hand, tiny wisps of fire that I want to drag across her skin. I want to watch her turn red, see her pull back while her blood screams for more.
Leaning forward over her back, I slide one hand into the back of her hair and yank her head to the side. Her neck is strained and exposed, her mouth fallen open while she tries to breathe through the pain on her scalp. “You said you wanted more,” I whisper as I bring the lighter in front of her face so that she can see it. Her heart rate picks up, her eyes widening at the sight and potential of what we’re about to do.
“Wait, this—” she whimpers. “I’m not sure if—”
“Shut up,” I roll my hips forward and push my cock against her pussy, not slipping inside of her yet, but the distraction is enough to have her eyes rolling back and her ass pressing against me again.
I bring the flame closer, dropping it lower until it’s close to the soft skin of her neck. “Do you feel that, Luna? Is the heat too much or will you take it until it burns you?”
She breathes, focusing to keep her breaths steady while I trail the flame lower. I roll my hips forward again, but this time move inside of her, feeling her pussy tighten and pull with each slow, intentional thrust I give her. “Arms above your fucking head.”
She obeys, and her hands move up while the flame shifts lower, working down the side of her ribs as I pull her top up and away from the lighter. “Closer,” she whispers, and that’s when I know she’s surrender
ing to this. To the same ache and need that resides in our blood. I can feel it, every bit of our essence flowing together in one seamless wreckage of passion.
I move it nearer to her creamy flesh, staying over her ribs while I pick up the speed on my thrusts. Her skin is flushing red and that’s when I take my cue to move to another section.
Just before I burn her.
“Fuck, I want more,” she cries out while I pull her head back by her hair and her body strains against my own. Taking every fucking inch of my cock while I fuck her. I click the lighter off and toss it to the side, deciding to use our ability as a way to channel the fire instead.
“Work with me,” I demand, pulling my hand back and focusing on the reality surrounding us. Luna merges with my own needs, my desires, and before I even realize it, my hand is engulfed in a larger flame that burns through my flesh. “Shit,” I grind out, absorbing the pain as it works through me as well. But I know this is our simulation, our own morphed reality that’s all too fucking real at times.
Once I’ve steadied my own breaths and focused enough to tame the flame into something a bit milder, I drop my hand over her ribs, refusing to touch her just yet while I continue thrusting inside of her.
“Yes,” she says, her voice strained while I spread my fingers wide across the back of her head. I shove her into the mattress, fucking her pussy while the flames work against her flesh. “Touch me, Elijah. I want to feel it.”
Fuck, this girl. Every time I think we’ve gone far enough, she takes another step. I fucking love it, and I’m already about to come when I finally press my hand against her waist. She flinches, pulling away for a moment but I grip her harder. Holding her in place while my cock slides inside of her.
“You like this, mo dheamon? Fucking while we’re on fire, baby?” I grip her waist tighter and pull her back to meet each of my thrusts, her breaths become unhinged, while she gasps and writhes against me. Her fingers grasp the sheets of our bed while I move my hand to another place on her back. Her skin is lined with marks that singe her flesh, nothing too severe but enough to leave streaks wherever I intend them.