Eternal Promise: (The Cursed Series, Book 5)

by Kara Leigh Miller

  He bent over and unhooked his skis from his boots. I grabbed more snow and hurled it at him.

  “Oh, you’re going to pay for that,” he said.

  He lunged at me, and I shrieked with laughter, which he promptly silenced with a kiss so hot it could’ve melted the snow around us.

  “What do you say we head back to the main lodge, get you warmed up, and check out the top floor?” he asked.

  The top floor of the main lodge housed the games Trent had mentioned our first night here. I’d seen flyers this morning for various poker games happening later tonight. This place certainly offered a lot of activities.

  “I’m taking these stupid skis off and walking back,” I said.

  Trent grinned, unhooked my skis, and helped me to my feet. I brushed snow from my backside, gathered my skis in my arms, and began the trek back to the main lodge. Thankfully, we weren’t too far away.

  We returned our ski equipment, and I quickly removed all the extra layers I’d worn until I was finally back down to just my jeans and long sleeved shirt. Lacing his fingers with mine, Trent led the way up to the third floor.

  I’d expected it to be one large space with everything accessible to anyone who ventured up here, but there were individual rooms. Some had pool tables, others had couches with TVs and air hockey tables or dart boards. The place was surprisingly empty, probably because everyone was enjoying the outside activities.

  “Have you ever played pool before?” Trent asked as he entered one of the rooms.

  “Once. And I sucked at it.” I laughed.

  “Want to play darts instead?” he asked, nodding toward the dartboard on the opposite end of the room.

  “Sure.” I shrugged.

  I grabbed a set of darts and stood on the X several feet away. I took aim and threw the dart. It barely landed on the outermost ring. Frowning, I threw a second dart—same result.

  Trent stood behind me, one hand on my hip. “You’re not following through,” he said, his voice low at my ear.

  A shiver snaked down my back, and I instinctively leaned against his chest.

  He flexed his fingers against my waist, his breath warm against my cheek. He took my hand, which still clutched one of the darts, and extended my arm. “When you let go, your wrist goes limp. You need to follow through with your entire arm.”

  He drew my hand back, and he guided me as I threw the dart. It stuck one ring from the bullseye. “See?” he whispered, his mouth now grazing the soft spot right behind my ear. “Try again.”

  “Right,” I said breathlessly. “You really think I can concentrate when you’re this close to me?”

  I turned my head just enough to see his face, and he captured my lips in a teasing kiss that left me wanting so much more. I was positive once the potion was out of my system, the constant need would go away. I was wrong. Granted, the urge wasn’t as intense, but it was still there, pulsing through my veins.

  “Want me to give you some space?” he asked.

  “No,” I said, twisting around to kiss him again.

  Groaning, he slid his hands around to rest on my back and pulled me closer. Then, his hands moved lower, stopping once again on my waist before he lifted me and set me on the edge of the pool table.

  Wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, I savored the heat of his kiss for several glorious moments—until someone walked in. I jerked away from Trent, but he didn’t release his hold on me, nor did he step back so I could get off the pool table.

  A girl about my age stood in the doorway, her grey eyes wide. She was beautiful, too, with long, silky brown hair and a rosy complexion. She was taller than me, and a lot curvier in all the places I knew mattered to a guy.

  “Oh, sorry. My bad,” the girl said with a giggle. But she didn’t leave. She titled her head and stared at Trent.

  I narrowed my eyes. What was this girl’s issue?

  “Oh, my God,” she said after a moment. “Trenton?” She walked farther into the room.

  She knew Trent? How? I glanced at him. His eyes were crisp blue but blank, like he had no idea what was going on right now.

  “You know her?” I asked him.

  “No,” he said slowly, but his gaze was now on this other girl.

  It was if I’d suddenly disappeared from his world. Anger and jealousy burned in my gut. I shoved his chest and wiggled off the pool table. “I’m sorry,” I said, glaring at the girl. “Who are you?”

  “It’s me. Vivienne.” She rounded the pool table and sashayed toward Trent. “C’mon, Trenton.” She pouted full, red lips. “You remember me, don’t you? Toronto. 1987.”

  As if a switch had been flipped, Trent’s expression cleared, and his eyes widened. “How do you know about that?” he asked, his tone detached.

  I stood, arms crossed, my jaw clenched with rage. Trent told me he’d only been with two other women before me, and Vivienne hadn’t been on his list. Had he lied to me?

  She reached out to trail her finger down his chest, and I smacked her hand away. “I don’t think so,” I said, wedging myself between her and Trent.

  Vivienne smiled, and that’s when I noticed the tips of her fangs. She was a vampire? And I’d just hit her? This wasn’t going to end well. Still, she had no right to touch my husband like that. I’d smack her a million more times, too, if she put her hands on Trent again.

  “Dante told me,” she said with a seductive grin. “You remember him, don’t you?”

  My ears rang. Dante? What were the chances it was a different Dante than the one Colt had been running from? God, please let it be a different Dante.

  Behind me, Trent stiffened in the same way he always did right before he fought with Jax. “Dante’s here?” he asked.

  His voice now had a deadly edge to it, and my anger was quickly replaced with fear.

  “It’s been a long time, old friend,” said a smooth, clear voice.

  A man walked into the room. That must be Dante. He had all-American good looks—blond hair, blue eyes, athletic build. To anyone who didn’t know the truth, he appeared totally harmless. Charming even, like the star quarterback who went to church on Sundays and helped little old ladies cross the street.

  Trent took my left hand and guided me behind him, his hold so tight it was borderline brutal. My wedding rings dug into my finger. But I kept my mouth shut and didn’t fight him.

  “Dante,” Trent said, his tone dripping venom.

  “Vivienne. Come.” Dante snapped his fingers, and she rushed to his side like a well-trained puppy.

  “You were right about him,” she said, nodding in Trent’s direction. “He’s divine. Too bad he’s so smitten with the human.” Vivienne scrunched up her nose in disgust.

  Dante laughed. “Ah, yes. You always were rather fond of the pretty, little humans, weren’t you?”

  As Dante moved forward, Trent moved back, careful to shield me from Dante. After everything Macaih and Colt had said about this guy, he was the very last person I ever wanted to meet. My instincts were screaming at me that Dante went beyond the inherent dangerousness that came with being a vampire. There was something… evil about him.

  Dante stopped suddenly and raised a brow. “You’re protective of this one.” He tilted his head.

  “She’s new,” Trent said through gritted teeth.

  I’m new? What did he mean by that? I was too terrified to ask.

  “How new?” There was humor in Dante’s tone now, as if he were enjoying whatever game he and Trent were playing.

  “A few months,” Trent said.

  “Well. Do let me have a look, won’t you?” Dante grinned. “For old time’s sake?”

  I didn’t think it was possible, but Trent’s body stiffened even more, and I grimaced at how hard he squeezed my hand. I half expected to feel bones start to crack. Then, his hold loosened infinitesimally. Without moving in any manner that Dante could see, Trent twisted my engagement ring so the diamond was turned toward my palm, and then he enveloped my
hand in his so that the rings weren’t visible.

  He didn’t want Dante to know we were married.

  Slowly, Trent tugged me around to stand beside him. My heart thrashed violently against my ribs, and my pulse pounded in my ears. I stood as close to Trent’s side as I could, taking comfort in knowing he wouldn’t let anything happen to me.

  “My, my, Trenton.” Dante licked his bottom lip. “She is a beauty. No wonder you want to keep her for yourself.”

  Dante stepped up to me, and I swallowed the urge to scream in his face to leave us alone. I also didn’t shrink against Trent, which was what I really wanted to do. Instead, I stood perfectly still and held his gaze. Despite the fact that I was terrified, I refused to show him any fear. Though, he could probably smell it on me.

  “What’s your name, sweetheart?” Dante asked.

  “Chloe,” I answered.

  Vivienne made a gagging noise, and I glowered at her with all the fury I possessed.

  Dante laughed, the sound much too normal and carefree. “She’s rather protective of you, too,” he said, his gaze flickering toward Trent. But then his attention was back on me. “I bet she tastes as good as she looks.” Dante trailed his finger down my cheek.

  My stomach roiled with disgust.

  “Don’t,” Trent warned and shoved me behind him, a lethal snarl rumbling from his chest. “Touch her again, and I’ll rip your still beating heart from your chest.”

  Finally, Dante backed up, hands in the air in a show of surrender. “Easy, friend,” he said, but there was nothing easy in his tone. “We should get a drink and catch up.”

  “I’m a little busy right now. Your friend over there”—Trent jutted his chin at Vivienne—”interrupted feeding time.”

  Dante’s eyes lit up, and a genuine smile spread across his face. “Then we’ll leave you to it.” His gaze lingered on me for a moment too long before resting on Trent. “Enjoy,” he said, and then he and Vivienne left the room.

  “How did Dante find us?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Trent said and rubbed the back of his neck.

  He released my hand, and I flexed my fingers, readjusting my ring. My hand was numb, but that was the least of my concerns right now.

  “So, you don’t know that woman?” I asked. “You and her never…?”

  “What?” he snapped. “No. Of course not. She’s one of Dante’s girls.”

  “What does that mean?” I moved to stand in front of Trent and rested my hands on his chest.

  His eyes were pitch black, and the muscle in his jaw ticked. “It means we need to get the hell out of here,” he said. He placed his hand on my lower back and guided me out of the room.

  There were so many questions I wanted to ask him, but I knew he wouldn’t answer them. He was too busy ushering me out to the rental truck, his gaze darting around nervously.

  Once I was safely in the truck, I said, “Please tell me what’s going on.”

  “I will. As soon as we’re far away from here,” he said.

  I wracked my brain trying to remember what Macaih, Colt, and Trent had told me about Dante. I knew he was not a nice guy, that he liked to hurt innocent humans, and that everyone was terrified of him. But why had he seemed so friendly with Trent? What, exactly, was their connection?

  The minutes-long drive felt like hours with the silence that hung heavy between us. Even when dealing with Ivy and the Zoya, I’d never seen Trent so scared. He pulled to a stop in front of our cabin and climbed out of the truck. I scrambled out after him. He unlocked the door and motioned for me to go in.

  “Start packing,” he said as he zipped around the cabin collecting our belongings and shoving them into whatever open luggage he could find.

  I wasn’t about to question Trent’s decision on this matter because he knew a lot more about Dante than I did, and obviously, he was someone we needed to get far away from, but I couldn’t stop the sudden, sharp pang of sadness that landed in my chest.

  Our honeymoon was over. Just like that.

  We didn’t have nearly enough time here together. Tears pooled in my eyes. I hastily wiped them away. Now wasn’t the time to feel sorry for myself. So what if our honeymoon was cut short? We’d have an eternity to do whatever we wanted.

  “Chloe, honey.” Trent was in front of me, his hands on my face. “I’m so sorry. This isn’t how I imagined things going.”

  “I know,” I whispered, even though I didn’t really know anything about what was going on.

  He lowered his mouth to mine, and my eyes fluttered closed at the feel of his lips working against mine with such tenderness. I slipped my arms around his waist and leaned into him.

  Behind me, the door flew open, the wood splintering loudly, the shards flying into the room. I screamed. Dante and Vivienne strode into the cabin. Trent shoved me toward the bedroom, but I’d barely taken one step when Vivienne suddenly appeared in front of me.

  I skidded to a stop, eyes wide. I willed my heart to slow, but it was useless. I was now standing in the bedroom doorway, face to face with Vivienne, while Trent was in the living room, facing off with Dante.

  “What do you want, Dante?” Trent asked.

  “It’s not what I want,” Dante said. “It’s what Yolanda wants. She’s wanted you for years, Trenton. And I’m going to be the one to hand you over to her.”

  “You’ll have to kill me before I ever go back to her.” Trent spat the words like they were poisonous.

  I gasped. There was no way I’d let Dante kill Trent. Not that I had any power to stop him, but I wouldn’t go down without a fight, which, I guessed, was exactly what Dante wanted. I attempted to take a step toward Trent, but Vivienne matched my movements.

  “I don’t get the appeal,” Vivienne said, eyeing me with disdain. “So weak and helpless.” She shook her head.

  “It’s not playtime, Viv,” Dante said. “Take care of her so we can be on our way.”

  Vivienne reached for me. Adrenaline spiked through my veins, preparing me to fight as hard as I could. My muscles tensed, too, preparing me to run for my life if necessary.

  “Don’t you dare touch her,” Trent said.

  In a flash, Vivienne had her hand around my neck. I gasped, and my eyes bulged. I clawed at her hands, trying to get her to release me, but the harder I fought, the tighter she squeezed.

  Suddenly, blood splattered across the front of me. Vivienne’s hand fell away from my throat, and I slumped to the ground, gasping for air. Trent stood over her limp body, his hand and arm covered in Vivienne’s blood. He held her heart in his palm.

  His face was twisted with rage, his eyes unseeing black puddles of ink. He looked exactly as he had when Isach made me hallucinate at Rachel’s funeral. Only this time, I knew everything I was seeing was very real.

  Dante sighed. “That was a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” He shook his head and frowned. “She was one of my favorites.”

  “I told you this would happen if you touched Chloe again.” Trent’s voice was icy but calm. He dropped Vivienne’s heart to the floor. “Chloe?” He held his non-bloody hand out to me.

  This wasn’t the Trent I knew and loved. My Trent wasn’t some violent monster who could—or would—rip out someone’s heart without flinching. Bile rose in the back of my throat, and I cupped my shaking hand over my mouth. The room spun.

  Trent reached for me, and I scrambled away from him. Hurt flashed across his face. Hot tears blazed down my cheeks. What was I doing? Trent would never hurt me. I attempted to stand when Dante grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me to my feet. I yelped in pain.

  “This changes nothing, though. Come with me, and I’ll let her live,” Dante said.

  “Let her go,” Trent warned. He widened his stance, clearly ready to fight.

  “If you insist.” Dante snickered and flung me across the room.

  My head hit the corner of the wall, and I slammed against the floor. The breath rushed from my lungs, and my body screamed in agony. I t
ried, and failed, to sit up. Trent lunged for me, but Dante intercepted him.

  Bright white spots flashed in front of my eyes, making it impossible to see anything clearly. But I could hear Trent and Dante fighting. Bones cracking. Flesh smacking. I touched my forehead and winced.

  I tried again to sit up, and I managed to prop myself against the wall. Vertigo hit me hard, and I closed my eyes, willing it to pass quickly. My head throbbed without mercy, and nausea rolled through me like a rogue wave.

  Unable to hold it back a second longer, I leaned over and threw up. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Trent. Dante had him pinned against the wall, and Trent wasn’t moving.

  “No,” I said, but my throat was raw, making my voice weak.

  Trent slumped to the floor. A sob wracked my beaten body. He couldn’t be dead. If he were, I’d know it. We were linked. I’d be able to feel his death. But then, why wasn’t he moving? What had Dante done to him?

  Dante crouched in front of me and brushed my sweaty, bloody hair from my face. “You know I have to kill you, right?”

  I glared at him through blurry, tear stained eyes. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him if he killed me, Trent would die, too, but something held me back. A warning in the back of my mind. The less this man knew, the better.

  “Such a shame. Though I’m very much going to enjoy drinking you,” he said and gathered my hair from my neck. And then he stopped. His eyes narrowed. “He’s marked you.”

  “I’m his soulmate,” I whispered, praying that would mean something to Dante.

  Trent told me that when a vampire claims their soulmate, it’s a sign, a warning to all other vampires that the soulmate is off-limits. That was part of the reason Colt had claimed Karina, so Dante couldn’t touch her.

  “Well then.” He released me and dusted his hands off as if I was somehow dirty. “It really would be much easier for you if you weren’t marked. Trust me when I say death would be preferable to what your future holds.”

  I stared at him, waiting for him to say more, but he didn’t. My eyelids were heavy, and another wave of nausea hit me. Why wasn’t Trent getting up?