by Aline Hunter
“Do you want me?”
She sighed, nodding. “You know I do.”
“Why did you stay away so long?”
“You know why.” She spoke so softly, he barely made out the words.
“I want you to tell me.”
“After talking with Trace…” She brought her lower lip between her teeth and shook her head.
“Tell me, Willow.”
She took a deep breath and released her lip. “All of this is so confusing.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“That might be the case for you, but it isn’t for me. Everything I’ve been taught has become hazy. The way you make me feel, the things I want with you, are things I’ve been told are wrong.”
“Were they wrong for Micah as well?” When she gazed up at him, he asked, “Have you ever considered there is a reason he fell in love with my sister?”
“He didn’t have a choice. Your sister didn’t have a choice.”
“You’re not seeing the bigger picture.”
“Then show it to me. If you know something that will make this easier for me to accept, say it.”
His stomach knotted. If only she knew how much he wanted to do as she asked. “Soon,” he whispered. “I promise you’ll know everything. We are two halves of one whole. No one will ever understand you the way I do. After you learn the truth, there will never be any secrets between us. I vow it.”
He lowered his hands and reached for the hem of her shirt. She helped him pull it over her head. He removed his own clothing as she stripped. His cock was already hard, his balls aching for release. All day he’d thought about having her again. Once wasn’t enough. There would never be a time when he didn’t crave her.
There was no warm-up, playful fondling, or heavy petting. Instead he lifted her into his arms and backed her to a wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist, lowered herself until they were aligned, and he entered her in one forceful thrust. She threw her head back and muffled a cry by biting her lip.
He stopped moving, staring at her until she met his gaze. “I want to hear every sound you make. Don’t deny me that.”
“It’s the only thing I can deny you.”
“Then I’ll have to work a bit harder, won’t I?”
He rolled his hips, and she moaned. Maintaining eye contact, he began moving inside her, the glides of his cock sure and steady. Her pussy tightened around him like a fist, clenching his shaft in exquisite heat. Each plunge into her depths caused her to make more of the wonderful moans and whimpers that were seared into his mind from the previous evening. He would never grow tired of hearing of them, of knowing the pleasure he gave her.
“I can keep you safe, love. I alone can make you happy. I swear I can.”
“Fates, I want to believe that.”
It took a moment for him to realize he’d picked the thought from her mind. Although she didn’t say it aloud, it eased the ache in his chest—the heavy weight that refused to diminish when he learned she would rather end her life than spend an eternity with him.
“Believe it, Willow. Have faith in me. I’ll never give you a reason to regret it.”
She gasped and lifted her head. Before she could question him or become angry that he’d invaded her thoughts, he reached between their bodies and searched for her clit. The nub was so swollen and sensitive that when he touched it, Willow arched her back and cried out. Her entire body erupted into tremors. He felt the snug clasp of her sex, followed by ripples against his cock.
“You’re so close, love. Aren’t you?”
“Y-Yes,” she stammered, shaking.
“Come for me then. Show me how good I make you feel.”
A shift of his hips, a ragged exhale from his Fated, and Bridon knew he’d found the spot inside her tight vaginal walls that would send her soaring. He continued stimulating her clitoris, thrumming his fingers, and pumped harder into her. Her shaking increased, as if she were standing in the grips of a violent winter storm. Then she screamed, coating his cock in her release, easing his way as he increased the pace.
“That’s it,” he whispered into her hair and brushed his lips against her throat.
He wasn’t gentle when he scored the vein throbbing against his mouth, intentionally marking her skin. His bite would be a symbol when they reached their destination, a visual reminder that she was his alone. She lowered her head to his shoulder, grasping his arms as she climaxed again. He held her as he fed, drawing the sweetness that was hers into his mouth.
He felt his balls pull up, going tight against his cock. Hours of picturing her like this merged with the real thing—her warm body grinding against his, her sweat-slicked skin gliding up and down his torso, her blood splashing against his tongue—and he allowed himself to fall over the precipice. He groaned against her skin as he jetted his seed into her, plunging into her all the while. His cock pulsed a final time, and he slowed his movements. He wanted this to last, but it was impossible. They had to leave shortly if they wanted to arrive at their destination, the hidden realm known as Munell, by dawn.
After swiping his tongue along the wounds inflicted by his fangs, he leaned back to study them. There was already bruising around the circular swells, and the skin was puffy and red. There would be no question of who put them there or why.
Willow kept her face averted, as if she were ashamed. Although it angered him, he also understood.
“You might not believe me when I say this, but after tonight you won’t feel ashamed by the way you feel about me.”
She didn’t say anything—not that he expected her to. She merely nodded, unlatched her legs from his waist, and slid down his body. He didn’t interrupt her when she went to her clothes, and he didn’t try to offer her any other comfort as she dressed. Within hours, his vow would be absolved. Then he could share everything he’d ever wanted to with the woman he’d fallen in love with all over again.
And when he did, she wouldn’t be afraid to love him back.
Chapter Fourteen
Willow was stunned when they passed the magikal barrier and entered a forest. As they rode past the thick trees, she saw the large castle in the distance. The massive structure looked nothing like the compound she had been raised in. Instead of grime, hay, and filth scattered about, the walls had a clean, untainted appearance. The gates to the entranceway stood open instead of closed.
Men greeted them when they rode inside, waving them by with torches. They were human and, unlike her father had led her to believe, they seemed happy and healthy. There were a few people scattered about, preparing for the new day to come. Most of the vendors glanced at her curiously, while a few whispered things she couldn’t understand.
They traveled past the booths and rode up an incline, toward the castle itself. More men waited at the large double doors. One quickly ran down the stairs and took Bridon’s reins as he climbed down from his saddle. Bridon nodded at the man and came to Willow. As he helped her climb down, she tried to calm her rattled nerves. Everyone kept saying the answers she sought waited inside. She wasn’t sure she believed that, but she was ready to see what was so special that Bridon had taken a vow not to reveal it.
“I’ll take the horses to the stable,” Trace said, watching her closely.
Bridon held her arm as they climbed the stairs. The man had already opened one of the doors and stood aside as they walked in. The interior was as clean as the outside, only far more lavish, as if it had been created from the mortal realm instead of the Otherworld.
An old woman greeted them and led them to a room to the left. A large fireplace was in use, the embers flashing brightly, covering the paintings along the wall in hues of orange. Willow stepped away from Bridon and started to pace, unable to remain still. She wondered if they would bring her nephew in. Perhaps he was the surprise. Maybe they thought that once she glimpsed him, she would let all the things that had led her to this moment pass without a second thought.
Quick footsteps came from the hall
way, and Willow looked up in time to see who had rushed into the room. Her heart skipped a beat, and time seemed to stand still. It was impossible. She had to be stuck in some kind of dream.
There was no way he could be here.
He was dead.
Micah looked exactly as she remembered him, long flowing hair and bright hazel eyes. He was clothed differently, wearing garments finer than those he’d ever possessed at Norvallen. He hesitated as their eyes met, as if he was trying to gauge her response.
“Willow,” he said quietly, standing in the doorway, arms at his sides.
“You’re dead.”
“No, sister mine.” He stepped into the room, coming closer.
“They told me you were dead.” Her voice was as shaken as she was. She tried to calm the erratic beating of her heart and stop the trembling that had overtaken her.
“As you can see”—he reached out and cupped her jaw—“I’m not.”
Her hand quivered as she wrapped her fingers around his wrist. “I don’t understand.”
Sadness crossed his face. “I know.”
Shaking her head, she moved away and let him go. “This isn’t real. I have to be dreaming. My brother is dead.” She glared at Bridon. “You did this, didn’t you? What is it? A spell? Are you trying to bewitch me?”
“It’s not a spell or a trick,” Micah answered before Bridon could. “But you’re right. I’m here because of your Fated, Willow. He’s the reason I’m still alive.”
She frowned, disbelieving. “Vampires killed you. Everyone knows that.”
“That’s what we wanted the pack to believe.”
She looked from Micah to Bridon, genuinely puzzled. “Why would you want them to think you were dead?”
Micah raked his fingers down his face. Then he looked at her in a way that made her stomach sink. “It was the only way to ensure they didn’t keep searching for me, Savannah, and Deacon.”
“Have you lost your mind?” she snapped. “How could you turn your back on the pack like that? How could you allow them to think you were dead?”
Micah’s eyes flared amber, telling her his temper was on a short fuse as well. “Because the pack wanted me dead.”
She hesitated. It wasn’t possible. Her pack—her family—couldn’t possibly be a threat to their own prince. “That’s not true. They mourned you. They still mourn you.”
His expression softened. “They mourn the loss of what they wanted—a new alpha to guide the pack who wasn’t bloodthirsty or power hungry. Haven’t you ever questioned that? Has it never occurred to you that our father has always had his own vendetta? When he learned I’d mated with a vampire, it was the perfect way to sway my supporters into believing I was a threat to the pack.”
“I am the threat.” She pounded her fist to her chest. “Me, not you.”
“Who has always told you that?” Micah’s tone was somber, his eyes sympathetic. “Who was the one person who always made sure you knew what was at stake if you didn’t do exactly as he said?”
She didn’t want to answer the question, although she and Micah both knew the answer. There had only been one person in charge of her upbringing. A man who made sure that no matter what, his pack would remain intact. Even as the truth began to reveal itself, she tried to deny it. Her father wanted power, certainly, but she didn’t want to believe he wanted it enough to sacrifice his only children to maintain it.
“You know the truth, Willow.” Micah moved closer, until they were within inches of each other. “If you really think back, you’ll see that it’s been in front of you the entire time. Father never intended to pass down his title. He’s always intended to keep it. If you mated Bridon, the vampires would have encouraged Father to step down so they could form an alliance with a Lycae king who wanted peace between the races. That would have meant me claiming the throne. So you were molded and shaped to hate your future Chosen, just as I was forced to stay away from you so you could never know the truth. When I met Savannah, it allowed Father to increase the stakes.” Grasping her arms with his large hands, he said, “He never wanted either of us to take what he feels entitled to, even if it meant destroying us in the process.”
“He said you left the pack because you didn’t want to endanger it.”
“A lie.”
“He said your son would unite the races.”
“A lie.”
“So you’re telling me that everything he’s told me isn’t true? That it’s all been lies?” She stared ahead and saw nothing, unable to fully comprehend what she’d been told.
“No, the oracles were right about one thing. Your mating with Bridon will bring forth the downfall of the pack. Only not in the way you were led to believe.”
She lifted her head, meeting Micah’s eyes. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“It should, since I’m planning on challenging Father as alpha.”
“You’re what?” This was what she’d waited on for years. Why had he suddenly decided—after the shit had hit the fan—to vie for his rightful place in the pack? “Why now?”
“The time has come. The only reason I’ve waited for so long is that I knew eventually Bridon would find you and bring you to me. You had to know what our father is capable of before I engaged him.”
“Why?”
“Our father would have used you as leverage. He would have threatened to kill you to keep me in line. It was too dangerous to do anything but wait.”
“So that was your plan? To bring me here and issue your challenge?”
He nodded. “It is imperative that the pack know we will unite with the vampire race and there will be peace between us. With the backing of Bridon and his kindred, it will be a fair fight. Father might turn the pack against me, but he can never harm you. No matter what happens.”
Willow turned from Micah and stared at Bridon. “This was the secret you couldn’t tell me. Not just about Micah, but about all of it. You knew that you planned to attack the pack.”
“When Micah and Savannah came to me, they were covered in blood from an attack by several of your pack members.” Bridon’s eyes darkened. “My sister could have lost her child.”
“So you faked their deaths?”
Bridon nodded. “I waited until Deacon was born, and I spread the rumor that Micah and Savannah were murdered. Leaving the baby alive meant that we’d cross paths, since I knew that eventually your father would want the child destroyed. Saying his parents were dead would keep your pack from looking for your brother or my sister. The only missing component was you, Willow. We needed you to be safe and understand why it has to be this way.”
“People are going to die. Blood will spill from vampire and Lycae.” She shifted her focus to Micah. “Are you ready for that? Are you willing to put your life at risk?”
Savannah strode into the room with a child on her hip. He was a mixture of his mother and father—with Savannah’s dark hair and Micah’s hazel eyes. He was larger than she expected, taking up a majority of his mother’s arms. Micah walked over to them, kissed Savannah, and took Deacon. Then he turned and faced Willow.
“This is why I’m willing to put my life at risk. As long as our father controls the pack, he’ll never stop trying to find him. He can’t have an heir threatening his throne. I refuse to have that kind of threat hovering over the head of my child.”
All of the pieces came together in a rush, almost too much to digest at once. The prophecy would come true. Her Fated would stand behind Micah as he fought for his rightful place in the pack, and vampire and Lycae would war. As a consequence, the pack would fall only to be reborn. However, in the doing, there would be casualties.
Willow looked at her brother, then his child.
The very existence of the pack was standing before her—Micah with all his strength, devotion, and loyalty, and his son who would inherit the same traits. If something happened to them, the dreams of peace and unity among her clan would never transpire. There would only be more head games,
lies, and deceit.
She glanced at Savannah, who watched her quietly.
What would happen if Micah was killed? Would his Chosen have the strength to continue on without her Fated half for the sake of their son? Or would she cave to the loss and leave him without a mother and father?
“I need some time to think.”
It was hard as hell not to look at Bridon as she turned from them and walked from the room. She felt his eyes on her, knew that despite his desire to comfort her he would give her space as he always did. It was a good thing too.
If he knew what she was considering, he’d never let her out of his sight.
Chapter Fifteen
The Otherworld
Marduk Province, City of the Phoenix
Marauder Family Crypt
Yuviette Zidana the Seeing wasn’t surprised when her name echoed through her mirror, informing her that Willow Miloradovic wanted to scry. For years, she’d anticipated this very moment. In fact, she’d cryptically told Willow that when the day came, she would welcome her call. It was all a part of being a volva sorceress and seer who did her part to maintain the balance between good and evil.
Unfortunately, this development came at a shitty fucking time.
Her best friend, Runa, was dealing with some heavy drama with her Fated Draigen. It was drama Yuvi was certain had a happy ending, but in Runa’s fragile state, it meant time was short.
Sighing, she reclined in her chair and waved her hand in front of the mirror. Within seconds, Willow’s furious face greeted her. The Lycae princess was in a large bathroom with the door closed behind her. Yuvi recognized the decor, since she’d been the person responsible for creating the magikal spell that protected the realm from detection. It was insane, really. The Lycae king turned to her to hide Willow, while the vampire king turned to her to hide Micah.