Invidious

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Invidious Page 14

by Bianca Scardoni


  Feeling reassured that he wasn’t going anywhere, I released my breath and sat back down on my bed. “I won’t keep you long. I just...I don’t want to be alone right now.”

  His eyebrows pulled together in quiet reflection. It made me nervous when he looked at me that way, like he could see right through to the core of who I really was.

  “It’s just the bloodbond,” he said after a short pause. It was as though he could read what was plaguing my mind without having to touch me. “Whatever you’re feeling for him—it isn’t real, Jemma.”

  “I know,” I said, but it was weak and unconvincing. I stared down at the wooden floor, sweeping my feet back and forth like an antsy child.

  “Hey.” He leaned over and picked up my chin. “It’ll fade with time. I promise.”

  “I know,” I said again. But the truth was, I wasn’t sure of anything anymore, least of all bloodbonds and how they worked.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I shook my head, unsure of where to begin. “I don't even know who I am anymore. I don’t even know if the things I’m feeling are my feelings or...something else.”

  “Like the bloodbond,” he said, watching me carefully.

  I nodded. “I think it’s starting to mess with my head.”

  Slipping into the spot beside me on my bed, he stared forward, thinking. “Is it messing with us?” he asked quietly without meeting my gaze.

  “No, of course not.” I didn’t hesitate because it was the truth. The feelings I had for Trace were real, and they hadn’t changed. He was a permanent fixture in my mind, an eternal staple of my heart.

  But, somehow, Dominic had begun to creep through the reedy borders of my subconscious, scratching at the walls to find a place, and even though I knew what I was feeling for him wasn’t real—that it was fleeting and fabricated and forced upon me—it still didn’t stop it from being so.

  “I miss you, you know,” he said, turning to meet my eyes. His jaw tightened as though he were working hard to keep all the things he wanted to say at bay.

  “I’m sitting right here.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  There was a tortured sadness in his eyes that hadn’t always been there. It broke my heart to think that I had a hand in putting it there, that I caused him this hurt.

  My small smile faded away.

  As much as I wanted to give myself to him, to throw myself down at his Alter, I wasn’t entirely sure I had anything good to offer him anymore. So much of who I was had become lost, diluted, fragmented. I was being pulled and stretched in every which way, dragged in a million directions with the expectations of the world sitting heavy on my center like a concrete paperweight I couldn’t shake off.

  What exactly did I have to offer him? A bloodbond? A missing best friend? A troubled past? A hopeless future? Engel?

  Everything that touched me was necrotic. Everything that came into my life withered away and died.

  I didn’t want to do that to him. He was ineffably perfect just the way he was, an enigma filled with both fire and ice that could send my heart into freefall with a simple shift of his eyes. He was the sun and the earth and everything beautiful in between them. I couldn’t take the risk of destroying even a sliver of that the way I destroyed everything else.

  I lowered my head in defeat. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Then don’t hurt me,” he said calmly as though it were that simple.

  “It’s not always something I can control,” I pointed out, meeting his curious eyes. “I’m like some big, horrible plague that just infects everything it touches.”

  He laughed as though I’d said something funny. “You’re not a plague, Jemma.”

  “I’m serious, Trace. I bring death and destruction wherever I go. I need to be exterminated,” I blurted out, tears distorting my vision as they threatened to spill over in spite of me. I was fighting them back so hard it was making my chin quiver. “Even my stupid blood is defective.”

  “Come on, don’t say that,” he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “We don’t know anything yet. I’ll be okay.”

  “How do you figure? I don’t exactly have the best track record for things working out in my favor.” I shook my head in despair. “I’m an abomination, Trace. It’s as simple as that.”

  “No, you’re not. We might not have all the answers yet, but I know there isn’t a bad bone inside of you.” He picked up my chin again, forcing me to look at him when I tried to turn away. “You’re not an abomination, Jemma. Not even close.”

  “What would you call it then, huh? What the hell am I?” I asked, water trickling down my cheeks in fat, pitiful streaks.

  “You’re everything that’s right in this world,” he answered without hesitation. “You’re kind and beautiful and selfless. You’re the only reason I fight for my future,” he added quietly, wiping away my tears with his thumb. “Kind of like the rainbow that comes after a storm.”

  “Yeah, right,” I said, snorting through my sobs.

  How he was able to find any semblance of good in this was beyond me.

  “If you could see what I see, you would know the answer to that,” he replied, his voice a heart-warming murmur.

  “I don’t deserve to hear you say these things to me. All I’ve done is push you away.” I closed my eyes, guilt-ridden by the way I’ve been treating him lately.

  “Lucky for you I don’t give up that easy.” His dimples blinked at me like a promise of eternal love. “Besides, I know where your heart is.”

  “Yeah? And where is that?” I tested.

  “With me.” His voice was deep and brimming with confidence. “And with Taylor.”

  Hearing her name strangled my heart.

  “I know you don’t want to let yourself feel happiness while she’s still out there hurting. It’s who you are, Jemma, and I wouldn’t change it for a second. No matter how hard it is for me to hold back sometimes, I do get it.”

  In all my despair, it occurred to me that I must’ve done something right in my life to deserve him. With wilted, slow-dying petals and gruesome thorns, to him, I was still a beautiful rose worth saving—worth fighting for.

  I rested my head on his chest and held on to the only semblance of sun I had left in my life. The wonderful humming sensation that I’d come to know and love set sail under my skin, soothing my body and my mind as it charged through my blood.

  Yawning, I felt myself drift away, falling closer and closer to a dreamlike state until my exhaustion finally closed in on me.

  23. RUNNING SCARED

  The blood skies stretched into the horizon like an omen of death; of carnage. I stood alone in a small clearing in the woods, my mind racing almost as fast as my heart was. There was something I was supposed to do, something I had to remember, but I couldn’t work out the equation in my head no matter how hard I tried to piece it together.

  A menacing shadow mingled with mine as Dominic took his place beside me. He always seemed to have a starring role in my nightmares and this one was no exception. He stood facing the horizon with his arm touching mine, wearing only a pair of black pants and an impish smirk on his mouth. His blond curls looked as though they’d been dusted in pink powder, reflections from the strange red sky that poured down on us like a bloody warning.

  “Come now, angel. It’s almost time,” he said and then walked out of the clearing and into the darkened forest, melting with the shadows and trees as skeletal branches reached out to wrap him in their ominous embrace.

  I followed after him without any question, first running to catch up with him, and then watching hungrily as he weaved his way in and out of the brushwood, leading me deeper and deeper into the woods. I followed ravenously, hungrily, craving him and everything he may have been offering.

  The red sky darkened as we moved deeper into the forest, almost as though it were frowning down on our trespasses. I reached out to stop him from walking, from venturing deeper into the forbidden
lands, but he mistook my gesture and spun on me. With fire in his eyes, his hands reached out for my hips, my body, holding, clutching, digging into my skin as he pulled me into the space between his arms. Icy cold kisses peppered my neck as a rush of excitement barreled through my blood. I instantly knew what was coming.

  I tipped my head back, surrendering all my restraint and hope, and then, just like I knew it would, the sharp, scorching pain quickly came for me. Harrowing and infinite like death itself, it consumed my being from the deepest part of my soul right down to the flesh he was tearing into.

  “Your blood is the wine.”

  A murder of crows cut across the red sky as blood spit out from my neck like a fiery volcano that knew no bounds, and I instantly knew...

  Death was knocking.

  I shot upright in my bed and let out a guttural scream, though the sound was quickly muffled by a hand that clamped down over my mouth.

  “It’s just a dream,” whispered Trace, consoling me in the dark. “I got you.” He slipped his arm around my back and gently laid me back down against my pillow.

  The room was consumed by shadows. Only a sliver of light peeked in from a slit in the curtains, but it was enough light to see Trace’s face and make my hammering heart simmer down. His beautiful eyes gazed down at me, reassuring me, and instantly making everything better again; instantly, making it easy for me to forget the terror.

  I needed to forget.

  I reached up through the darkness and wrapped my arms around his neck, clasping onto him in desperation as I sealed my mouth over his and pulled him back down with me.

  “Jemma,” he groaned against my mouth as though he thought this was a bad idea, as though he thought we should stop, but it only made me kiss him harder.

  He braced himself, fisting the sheets on either side of me as I deepened the kiss for the both of us. His lips were moving with mine, kissing me back, but I could feel the restraint behind them. I could taste the control he was trying to keep over himself.

  I moved my hands down from his face to his neck, roaming freely over the expanse of his chest and the swells of his arms. The more I touched him, the more he responded, and the more my body sizzled with electricity. I didn’t want it to stop. I wanted more of it—all of it—to burn like an asteroid blazing through the atmosphere.

  I parted my lips and gently swept my tongue along his, daring him to let go—to give into me. His breathing instantly turned sharper, faster, his kisses growing more urgent with every immeasurable second that ticked by us.

  He drew back suddenly, hovering above me as he fought to hold onto what little self-control he had left. His jaw flexed furiously, hungrily, as his eyes filled up with unbridled want.

  And then, as easy as flicking off a light switch, the restraint was gone.

  I felt him shift above me as his knee came up and eased my legs apart, his gaze never leaving mine. My breath caught in my throat as he laid himself back down on me, resting his body in the uncharted space between my hips.

  His mouth found mine again and he kissed me fiercely, filling me with a surge of emotions that made my body tremor in response. Excitement, fear, anticipation, exhilaration, curiosity, each one hitting me in waves as they funneled through my body like exotic spices I’d never tasted.

  There was something in the air, something between us, like a tonic that neither one of us could turn down. And I didn’t want to turn it down. I wanted to indulge in its sap and let it take me to that beautiful place where only he and I existed. He was the antidote to my deepest, darkest nightmare. The answer to my prayers. Nothing could touch me here. Not my pain or heartbreak or inadequacy, not the Council or uncle or Engel...not even Dominic and his daunting bloodbond could reach me here.

  Here, I was untouchable.

  I held onto him tighter, digging my nails into his skin as he trailed a stream of kisses along my jaw and then down to the space below my ear. His hands moved to my side, clutching my hips and then my waist as his thumbs grazed along the flimsy hem of my shirt. Taking the fabric in his hands, he pulled it up slowly, achingly slow, memorizing the lands of my body as he explored every hill and groove beneath my shirt. His warm hands and soft lips brushed against my abdomen in tandem, peppering my skin with caresses that made my stomach tighten and my toes curl.

  He was a god fit for a throne and every touch reaffirmed his status as he skirted me closer and closer to the brink. I arched my head back and called out his name like a prayer.

  He quickly slid back up my body, pressing his lips against mine to keep me contained, to keep me from freefalling into oblivion. I couldn’t get enough of him, of his lips, his hands, the way his body molded itself against mine.

  I was teetering on the edge of insanity and every cell in my body was screaming for me to jump.

  “I’m crazy about you, Jemma.” His breath was as silky and sweet as melted sugar. “I can’t get you out of my head. You’re the only thing I think about anymore.”

  And now, I was freefalling.

  I pulled his shirt up over his head, surprising myself at how easily I accomplished the feat. His skin was scorching-hot to the touch, his chest rising and falling almost as quickly as mine was. Our want for each other had reached new levels. It was palpable, undeniable.

  Cupping my face, he lowered his head again and pressed his lips against mine, only this time, his kisses were softer, slower, measured touches that made me ignite from within—made my entire body shake with an appetite I couldn’t define or describe or decipher. It was all too much yet nowhere near being enough. I'd never felt anything like this in my entire life, and it made me tremble from the inside out.

  He pulled back suddenly and looked down at me. His eyes were filled with so much fire that, for a second, I thought surely it was my own reflection being mirrored back to me.

  “You’ve done this before, right?” he asked me, gazing down at me as he studied my reaction.

  My heart started beating faster, louder, so loud that I was sure he could hear it too.

  I shook my head.

  The mere seconds felt like hours before he said anything. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, his eyes gleaming as they stripped me down to my soul—discovering, uncovering, listening in for the smallest hint of uncertainty.

  Tomorrow was promised to no one, least of all to me. All I had was this moment with Trace, and in this moment, everything was perfect. I couldn’t bear to let it go; to fall back into my living nightmare.

  “Yes,” I rasped as I swallowed the finality of it all—the no-going-backness. “I want to.”

  Silence.

  “Don’t you want to?”

  He laughed quietly, all deep and gruff and sexy. The sound of it sent a shiver through my body. “You have no idea how bad I want to,” he said, teasing me with his perfectly timed dimples.

  “So, you want to, and I want to...” I started to pull him back down to me, but he stopped us again.

  More silence.

  “What’s wrong? Why do you keep stopping?” I asked, confused by his obvious reluctance.

  He hesitated before answering. “I just want it to be...you know.” He licked his lips as he stared down at mine.

  My eyebrows rose. “Good? You’re scared it won’t be good?”

  He laughed again. “No. I’m not worried about that,” he said with the kind of cockiness that made me want to put him to the test. “I meant special. I want it to be special.”

  “Oh.” I smiled up at him, at his sweetness. “It will be,” I decided, circling my arms around his neck. “It’s me and you, Trace.”

  He nodded as though he agreed, yet he still wasn't moving.

  “Something else?” I asked, growing increasingly impatient with his extended time-outs.

  “I don’t know,” he said, shrugging as though it weren’t weighing heavily on him, but his pensive eyes told an entirely different story. “Shouldn’t there be like flowers or candles or something?”

  “For me
or you?”

  “Jemma.”

  I laughed. “I don't know, is that the rule?” I asked sarcastically, though he didn’t find it amusing. “I’m not really a flowers and chocolate kind of girl, Trace. I don’t need all that stuff.” Besides, who knew if I would get another chance? I wanted to seize the day, the moment—carpe diem and all that crap.

  “No one needs that stuff,” he said softly, “but I still think you deserve it.” I could see the struggle in his face, the warring emotions in his eyes, and then the forfeiture as he pulled away completely and sat back down on the edge of my bed...just out of my reach.

  Well, that deescalated quickly.

  I yanked up my sheet and covered myself before propping my back against the headboard.

  “I want to do this right, Jemma.” He pushed his fingers through his ebony hair and looked down at me. “And I want to do it for the right reason.”

  Something about the way he said it made me pause. “What is the right reason?”

  “Because you love me. Not because you’re scared you might not get another chance or because you want to prove the bloodbond isn’t affecting you.”

  I lowered my eyes, realizing he’d heard me. “It’s not the only reason,” I defended.

  “I know, but it’s a part of it, and I guess I’m not okay with that.”

  “I didn’t mean for it to seem that way.” I turned away from the heaviness of his downcast eyes. “I just wanted to feel like myself again, to have one normal night where the weight of the world wasn’t sitting on my shoulders.”

  He placed his hand on my leg, calling back my attention. “It won’t always be that way.”

  I gave him a doubtful look.

  “I’ll make sure of it,” he promised. “I’ll take the world apart for you and put it back together again if I have to.”

  I smiled at him as I remembered what future Trace had said. The vow he made to me that day in my room.

  He reached over and grabbed a hold of my hips, pulling me across the bed to him. “Besides, when we do decide to do it,” he said, moving a strand of hair from my eyes, “it’ll be a lot of things, but normal won’t be one of them.”

 

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