Elder Bonds

by Lexi C. Foss

  Nothing.

  If she weren’t warm beneath his touch, he’d assume this all to be a ridiculous hoax. Thankfully, she felt very much alive.

  He checked her pulse and sighed as it thrummed beneath his fingertips.

  “Wake up,” he whispered. “Come back to me, love.”

  No response.

  Aidan hadn’t awoken earlier so much as popped up—his gaze wide and perplexed, and then furious as he recalled the incidents that led to his death. Balthazar wasn’t all that familiar with the process, only having died once before. He’d been far too alarmed at the time to focus on the details of his rebirth.

  …pain… anger… blood…

  His eyes opened as the trickle of words pierced his mind.

  …excruciating…

  Nythos remained utterly still, but her ruminations grew louder with each second as she recalled the events that led to her death. So quick she hadn’t even realized what was happening until Jeremiah shoved a bronze blade into her chest. The coward had attacked them while they slept, killing Aidan first before moving on to Nythos.

  Jeremiah would suffer for his sins.

  Why? Who? Her lids fluttered. Oh, B.

  His heart fractured on that broken thought. Nythos had mourned the loss of him most of all. Their bond went deeper than most, as they understood each other on a level few others could ever comprehend. It was a mutual respect that emboldened their relationship and allowed it to flourish. He would forever cherish her for such a gift.

  “B?” she rasped, her full lips barely parting. She tried again, but no sound escaped. He pressed a cup to her mouth, encouraging her to drink some fresh water. She refused at first, but he gently coaxed her into accepting the much-needed liquid.

  I don’t… What’s happening? she asked, her thoughts tinged with concern.

  “Shh, give it a moment.” Somehow, he managed to sound stern, yet soft, even while his pulse raced with joy. She’s alive. While all activity over the last few hours suggested this would happen, he had refused to believe until now. It hurt too much to dream. But she was moving. Her eyelids fluttering. Her chest rising and falling.

  Fuck, he had missed her.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said softly as she finished the water. Jeremiah’s actions were technically not Balthazar’s fault, but he felt guilty nonetheless. “That coward wouldn’t have done this if it wasn’t for me.”

  She made a noise in her throat that sounded an awful lot like a snort. He’s an imbecile, she projected to him. Don’t ever apologize for his actions.

  Balthazar grinned and set the cup aside. “Already chastising me?”

  You know it. Her lips curled as her gorgeous eyes met his. Tell me what happened.

  He snuggled closer to her and kissed her temple and then her cheek. Luc had suggested they clean her up after she finished healing, something he very much appreciated now. She looked refreshed—brand new.

  “You’re immortal, love.” He nuzzled her neck. “We’re not sure how, but you’ve been reborn. Like me.”

  Her ebony irises narrowed as her pupils widened. “I’m… what?” Already her voice sounded stronger, with only a hint of the hoarseness from before. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “You were dead, and now you’re very much alive.” He punctuated the point by brushing his lips against hers.

  She responded by threading her fingers through his hair and holding him to her mouth. “I don’t feel any different.”

  “You don’t look any different either.” She appeared well rested and very healthy. “In fact”—he slid his palm to her stomach and upward to her breasts—“you feel the same as well, if a little hot.”

  She arched into him on a moan, her hormones swiftly catching up to the game as her mind raced with wicked ideas. He grinned against her lips. “There’s my Nythos.”

  Her tongue slid into his mouth, exploring and coaxing. A sensual energy surrounded her, one that excited all his nerves and lit his soul on fire.

  “Fuck,” he whispered, needing more of whatever she’d ignited in him. It had never been like this with her. So hot, addicting, and all-encompassing.

  Balthazar knew passion—had mastered it well over the years—but this…

  “Nythos,” he breathed, deepening their kiss. Her hands went to his robes, ripping them from him in a practiced move that left him hard and ready for whatever she delivered.

  “Closer,” she demanded, her nails scoring up his sides and drawing a path in blood.

  Whatever immortality had granted her, he approved because, fuck, that was hot.

  He joined her beneath the blanket and settled between her thighs. His thick arousal met her damp heat, prodding her gently. She wasn’t breakable, but he wanted to cherish—

  She flipped him onto his back with a strength that surprised him, and straddled his thighs.

  “I’m in charge.” Her throaty voice rolled over all his senses, heightening his instincts and intriguing him at the same time.

  Submitting to a woman wasn’t in his repertoire, but he could play along for her benefit. For a little while, anyway.

  “Are you now?” He tucked his hands behind his head. “All right, sweetheart. Have at it.”

  She dug her nails into his chest, eliciting a slight pain that mingled pleasantly with the action of her hips over his. More of that foreign sensation crawled over his skin, deepening his need and escalating his heartbeat.

  Whatever it was, he loved it and wanted more.

  “Kiss me,” he demanded.

  She shook her head and bit her lip. “I want to taste you.”

  Well, he couldn’t argue with that. “Then do it.”

  Nythos ground her center against his erection, stirring all manner of desires, then bent her pretty head to lick his neck. Her path revealed itself in his mind, suggesting a new experience between them.

  “Mmm,” he murmured. “Only if I can return the favor, sweets.”

  She increased the friction between them as she moaned, “Oh, yes, please.”

  “Then nibble away.” He closed his eyes as her tongue trailed across his skin.

  “I want to do more than nibble,” she whispered darkly.

  “I know.” He’d heard her intentions quite clearly. “Remind me to thank Aidan later for inspiring these ideas.”

  She grinned against his throat. “I didn’t particularly care for it when I drank from him, but something about you…” She trailed off, but her thoughts continued. His blood… so sweet… smells amazing. Fuck, I need it.

  A wave of desire caressed his insides, eliciting a groan from him. Fuck if that wasn’t the most addicting feeling ever. Almost too addicting.

  His brain fought to understand, to claw itself out of the thick haze of desire surrounding them. It had something important to say, a notion as to what might be exciting this reaction in him, but his groin overruled it.

  Roll with it.

  Such an appropriate statement as Nythos moved her hips against his, her slickness taunting his cock in the most delicious of ways.

  Giving her control—or the illusion of it—seemed to be working for them both.

  He twined his fingers in her hair, encouraging her to continue, while luxuriating in her sinful cravings. She scraped her teeth over his pulse and moaned. “I need.” Her voice was so low and sultry.

  “Whatever you want, love. You know—”

  Her sharp incisors pierced his skin on a growl he felt in his heart. It ricocheted around them, raising goose bumps all along his arms.

  Something about it didn’t feel right.

  He’d been bitten before, though not quite as deep as this, and it always resulted in a pleasurable pain.

  This, however, didn’t.

  It soured his insides and churned his stomach.

  The sensual cloud they’d fallen under seemed to dissipate as her body went eerily still. Her mind silent.

  He frowned. “Nythos?”

  She didn’t reply—perhaps too mortified by
the moment?

  “Nythos,” he murmured as he rolled them without resistance. “Talk to—”

  Her ebony eyes gazed unseeingly up at him, her mouth etched into one of shock and coated in his blood.

  “I don’t… Nythos?” He went to his knees.

  Her naked, lifeless body lay limp on his bed. All the light from her features gone.

  “I…” He swallowed. “Nythos?”

  She couldn’t be…

  No.

  He just had her energetic body above him, her mind racing with sinful delight.

  Why would…?

  His throat worked as he tried to come up with something. Anything. A word. A signal.

  How?

  He checked her pulse, her wrist flimsy beneath his touch. No beat. Her neck, still warm, provided no encouragement.

  No breaths inhaled or exhaled. No sign of any life.

  Just a gorgeous, very—

  He shuffled to the side, grabbing his robe. “No. Fuck no.” This was not happening. She’d been alive, God damn it. Only seconds ago. How the hell…? “No.”

  He jumped to his feet, determined.

  This had to be a relapse, some sort of mistake.

  Luc and Aidan would know how to fix it.

  She’d healed. All the way. Had spoken to him. Had seduced him.

  “No,” he repeated, heading outside.

  The two immortals he needed were standing near another cavern home, chatting with a group of females. Balthazar froze and opened his mouth, but no words escaped him. Not even a groan or a cry. He couldn’t… This wasn’t happening. Not again. She’d just come back to life!

  Luc glanced his way, his brow furrowing and his thoughts shifting from seduction to concern. He nudged Aidan, and the two started toward him. Too slow. Their steps were too. Fucking. Slow.

  Didn’t they realize? Didn’t they understand?

  Nythos…

  His legs shook.

  She had to be fine. Not dead. Not because of him. Again. Not that he knew how or why, or even—

  “Talk to me, B,” Luc demanded as Aidan passed them outside and entered Balthazar’s home.

  “She’s… she’s…” He couldn’t say it. The words just refused to dislodge from his heart. Because they weren’t true. They couldn’t be true.

  “Lucian,” Aidan called from inside as his unspoken words assaulted Balthazar’s senses. Death… Unexpected… Mistake?

  Balthazar collapsed to the ground, his knees scraping against the rocks beneath him. He felt nothing. And everything.

  His chest ached with loss, so much worse than this morning. Despite his words and anticipations, he’d allowed himself to hope, to consider an eternity with Nythos. Whether as a lover or a friend, it didn’t matter. He adored her—his female protégé with her kinky thoughts and gorgeous smile.

  A tear slipped from his eye, rolling down his cheek.

  Another followed.

  More.

  The consensus from the immortals inside pricked his conscious, confirming what he already knew. She wasn’t coming back.

  Perhaps it had all been a cruel hoax delivered by fate, a way to remind Balthazar he would forever be alone—to watch everyone he ever loved die around him. His mother, his closest friends, the various females in his life, and now Nythos.

  His head fell to his palms, his shoulders shaking.

  It hurt.

  It fucking hurt.

  He couldn’t breathe beneath the assault of images pummeling his memories. All of a gorgeous, dark-haired beauty who lived life to the fullest without regret. Such an alluring spirit, one who deserved so much longer on this earth.

  My sweet, sweet Nythos.

  Luc placed his palm against Balthazar’s back as he joined him on the ground. “I’m here.” The words were underlined in comfort and loyalty but did little to dispel the agony ripping Balthazar apart inside.

  She’s gone.

  His forehead hit the ground as he allowed the sobs to take him, his heart shattering for a woman he could have truly loved. A being so unlike anyone else he’d ever met. Someone he would forever miss and never forget.

  My Nythos…

  7

  Luc

  Balthazar sat against the wall with his knees tucked up to his chest, saying nothing. Instead, he stared out at the maze of tree roots lining the grotto around them, his heart evident in his chocolate gaze.

  “I’m going to check in with Aidan,” Luc said softly. His strategic side desired an explanation because Nythos had displayed all signs of immortality. She shouldn’t be dead.

  Balthazar nodded but said nothing.

  Luc squeezed Balthazar’s shoulder to remind him that he wasn’t alone, then joined his father inside. His hand was poised over Nythos’s thigh, knife in hand. He conveyed his intentions with a glance before drawing the sharp object across her thigh.

  Blood oozed from the femoral artery rather than spurting—an indication of her death. But that wasn’t the purpose of this test.

  Luc knelt beside her, his gaze cataloging every moment, waiting for some subtle change to occur.

  Minutes passed.

  No signs of immortal life.

  Aidan lifted her lips to reveal two sharpened incisors and a mouthful of red fluid. His nose twitched. “Balthazar’s blood.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It’s sweet. Like yours.” He released her and used a nearby rag to wipe the fluid from his hand. “And I don’t see a fatal wound.”

  “Perhaps her rebirth failed?” Luc suggested.

  Aidan shook his head. “Or we misunderstood her recovery.” He stood, his emerald eyes flashing with knowledge. “Perhaps there are ways to create an immortal outside of procreation.”

  Luc joined him, folding his arms. “What are you suggesting?”

  “That exchanging blood prior to her initial death caused her resurrection.”

  “But you’ve exchanged blood before,” Luc murmured.

  “True. However, she’s the first to be killed so soon after.”

  “Meaning your essence thrived inside her when death tried to take her under.” Luc scratched his jaw. “It’s reasonable since your blood is what gives me life.”

  “But a different kind.”

  “Indeed.” How fascinating. “Do you think she possessed a power as well?”

  “Perhaps,” Aidan replied. “We would need to ask Balthazar if she exuded any sort of unique energy prior to her death, something I doubt he’s in the frame of mind to answer now.”

  A fair point. “What do you believe killed her?” Because she was most certainly dead. Immortals at least showed signs of healing. Her body did not.

  Aidan cocked a brow. “Care for my theory?”

  “Always.”

  “Balthazar’s blood,” he replied. “You know I’ve long suspected that your essence is toxic to me, which is why I’ve never bitten you.”

  “True.” His father always fed from mortals.

  “If Nythos was like me—a being with a singular ability who requires blood—it’s possible Balthazar’s blood, as well as yours, was poison to her.” Aidan shrugged. “As I said, it’s a theory. We would need—”

  “What?” Balthazar stood just inside the door, likely having listened to their conversation or thoughts from outside. “I… You mean to say… But I…” He stumbled into the wall beside them, his hand over his heart. “No.” He started to shake his head. “Stop.”

  He covered his head, falling to the ground in a heap of excruciating pain. It pierced Luc’s soul to see his new friend in such torment. He had clearly cared for this woman deeply.

  Luc joined Balthazar on the floor and wrapped an arm around him. “We don’t actually know,” he murmured. “You couldn’t have known.”

  Aidan met Luc’s gaze, his expression thoughtful. They both wanted more information, but now clearly wasn’t the time to request it from their mourning friend.

  Or maybe it’s just the distraction he needs.

>   If Nythos was like Aidan, it opened a whole realm of possibilities.

  They would need to test the concept on a mortal—an exchange of blood, then kill the person to see if he or she woke. Why hadn’t they considered this option previously? All their speculations were in regard to procreation, something Luc learned early on was not a potential for himself. But Aidan reproduced just fine.

  What happens if I exchange blood?

  Balthazar went rigid, his gaze snapping up to Aidan. “Repeat that,” he demanded.

  Luc frowned while his father cleared his throat. He didn’t reply out loud but seemed to be communicating silently with the mind reader.

  He must have come to the same conclusion regarding an intellectual distraction, and it seemed to be working.

  “Okay. Now elaborate.” The strength in Balthazar’s voice seemed to intensify the atmosphere between them. No one commanded Aidan to do anything, but he conceded with a nod.

  “It’s just an idea.” He started to pace while Luc and Balthazar watched. “Well, a theory—”

  “That you want to evaluate,” Balthazar interjected flatly as he sat up, hands at his sides.

  “Again, just an—”

  “I get that part already. Explain how you arrived at that notion.”

  Aidan sighed as he met Balthazar’s gaze, then dove into a complex explanation regarding the genetics of immortals. Or rather, the understanding Luc and Aidan had developed throughout the centuries.

  Aidan existed for reasons neither of them could prove, but they suspected someone, somehow, had created him. He possessed memories of his mortal childhood, but not of his death, something that troubled him greatly since he could remember everything else in significant detail.

  By contrast, Luc recalled his death down to his last breath and every second of his rebirth. His resurrection, coupled with his dual abilities and lack of a need for blood, classified him as “different.”

  Further, it seemed that Aidan’s coupling with a human produced immortal children—or the potential for them. An untimely death at a younger age appeared to be a requirement for rebirth, something they discovered after Aidan had allowed a progeny to die naturally. The male never woke up. Luc, however, had died unexpectedly at nineteen and woke up the next morning.