by Rachel Jonas
We were more than a couple, more than bonded.
We were soul mates.
The vows we took centuries ago were merely a formality, I guessed, because although I had no memory of the promises exchanged, the connection was still present and strong.
Even in the absence of our tether.
“I could do this forever,” he uttered, the softly spoken words moving into my hair.
He trailed my skin, arousing goosebumps down my arm that met his fingertips on contact, and now our hearts thundered in sync. Mine desperately seeking his, nearly leaping from my chest as he drew me closer by the curve of my hip. I submitted, letting my figure fuse to his beneath the blanket.
A deep, quivering breath left his mouth and I shuttered, feeling the weight of his need—an unquenchable need that plagued us both. The desperation was nearly tangible, leaving no reason to acknowledge it aloud.
Let him rest.
I heard it … the warning … but was lulled into a daze by a kiss. One so deep, so mind-bendingly intimate, all sense of time and space melted away, leaving nothing behind but us.
Sharing this bed was once steeped in innocence, a means of solace we both sought. However, as the temperature beneath the comforter rose, our good intentions burned away until they no longer existed.
All that remained was temptation.
Heat from Liam’s lips triggered tiny explosions wherever they touched my skin—my mouth, the underside of my jaw, the hollow of my throat, my collar bone.
He was … everywhere.
His palm moved to my thigh, pulsing more heat through the limb as it was brought to his waist—a rough motion that shouldn’t have excited me so much, but it did.
The sound of wild, rapid breaths filled the space around us. We swallowed long drags of air as though we were drowning.
Maybe we were.
Drowning in this feeling, in each other.
My hands roamed his solid frame with the greed of a woman starved for the affection of her mate, somehow aching for physical contact I’d never even had the pleasure of knowing.
Or maybe I did.
Maybe some small part of me remembered what it was like to be with Liam. Which was why it seemed so natural to decide the wait was over.
Time seemed relative—one stretch passing in short, choppy bursts; the next, a series of slow, sensual moments that took my breath away.
I pulled away only long enough to snatch the t-shirt over my head. I didn’t care that the hasty maneuver told of my impatience. Liam shifted onto his back, bringing me to straddle the warmth of his smooth, toned waist between my thighs. The softness of my chest pressed against the unrelenting solidity of his. He released a breath at the feel of it, and that sound—his inability to contain himself—was intoxicating.
Centuries of bridled passion were mounting within him and I could hardly stand the tension.
His.
Mine.
The culmination of all the waiting, the careful steps we’d taken around one another … it was bubbling to the surface now as hands wandered greedily without restriction, as kisses deepened.
It was no secret I wanted him. No secret the feeling was mutual. But what Liam nor I could have known a short time ago, was that our words and feelings were on the verge of being brought to life.
Tonight was the night the past collided with the present. In one heart-pounding, soul-stirring crescendo, two worlds never meant to exist apart, returned to their rightful state.
As it was fated from the beginning, as it was decided before we were even born, our two souls were finally as they should have always been.
… They were one.
Chapter Eight
Liam
It took effort not to laugh as she fussed over me, pressing a wet rag to the gash on my lip. In the heat of the moment, she lost herself, and a kiss turned into a bite.
She saw it as an injury.
I saw it as a compliment.
“This is so embarrassing,” she huffed, completely unaware of her perfection as moonlight outlined her delicate features.
She dabbed the spot again, using her other hand to hold a white sheet in place over her chest. Modesty seemed like a moot point, considering what we’d just done, but I suppose she had her reasons.
To her, this experience between us was new.
Every few seconds or so, as she nursed my wound, I’d catch her gaze wandering to my chest, my stomach, and then lower before her eyes would flit back toward mine. I wasn’t bothered by it. If I had been, I would’ve put on clothes, but it felt unnecessary. I had nothing to hide from her, and soon she’d come to the same realization.
I let her tend to me with the cloth a while longer before looping her wrist with my fingers, halting her when I smiled.
“Evangeline … I’m fine,” I promised with a laugh. “You didn’t break me.”
She nodded as her eyes shimmered in the silvery-blue light, smiling as I reassured her with a kiss.
I turned onto my side, keeping her close. The motion exposed my back to the air, and the broken skin where her nails left lengthy tracks stung a bit. Those would heal, too, but the pain had been worth it.
Her curls were wild, covering the pillow and my arm where she laid her head. In this state, she was at her most natural, the way I remembered. The sheet formed to her figure, leaving little to the imagination. Admiring every inch, every tempting curve, I counted myself a lucky man. There had never been a more beautiful woman. Not in either of her lifetimes.
Her long, slender fingers tangled with mine as she gazed thoughtfully toward the ceiling. I didn’t miss the hint of a satisfied smile set on her lips—one my ego wouldn’t let me not take credit for.
“I hope we weren’t too loud,” she grinned. “Well, I hope I wasn’t,” she corrected.
Bringing the back of her hand to my lips, I placed a kiss there. “So what if you were?”
The statement made her laugh and I brought it out even more when my kisses trailed up her arm.
“Stop!” she protested, not meaning it for a second. “Keep it up and Hilda’s gonna be at your door.”
I shrugged, mumbling my response against her skin. “Maybe she already is.”
A playful slap to the shoulder wasn’t truly meant to scold me. “Don’t be gross.”
I didn’t respond because I’d gotten caught up in her all over again as I tasted her neck. Her body went still at the feel of it, like the contact left her helpless.
My appetite for her had always been insatiable and we might have spent another two hours holed up in my room had it not been for the commotion downstairs. My eyes were immediately drawn toward my bedroom door. Just beyond it, an otherworldly shriek forced us to abandon the bit of fantasy we managed to create, being flung violently toward reality.
“What was that?” Evangeline’s voice trembled when she asked, fumbling to pull on her clothes as I searched for my own.
“Not sure, but I need you to stay here.”
The request made her pause, as if the racket downstairs had stopped altogether, while it had, in fact, begun to sound more like a war zone—a cacophony of bumps and bangs, glass breaking.
“Liam … if anything, you shouldn’t go down there,” she reasoned. The worry in her voice was hard to miss.
She didn’t speak it aloud, but I was positive I seemed more fragile to her now than any other moment since I awakened.
I didn’t say a word, pulling the drawstring at my waist.
This new dynamic between us—one where she felt the need to be the protector—it didn’t sit well with me. It had nothing to do with it being some sort of hit to my masculinity. It had everything to do with what the end result would be: her heading straight into danger.
As if she hadn’t already done that enough. For me. For others.
We reached my bedroom door at the same time, making it clear neither intended to heed the other’s warning. So, instead, we went together.
Every light downstairs see
med to be on. Peering past the rail that overlooked the foyer, there was a body. Cloaked in dark, tattered clothing and a sackcloth hood, it writhed in the arms of the six guards that struggled to manage its weight.
The voice was hard to place, presenting as both female and male in unison as it howled, or more like roared. In size, the creature could have easily measured up to an Elder.
Evangeline stepped back from the rail as her eyes widened. There was fear in them—unmistakable and present for good reason. The next second, she covered her nose and mouth, retching behind her palm.
“Oh, my gosh … that smell!” she nearly gagged.
I turned toward the body again, but sensed nothing, which meant the odor was only detectable to supernaturals.
“What is it?” I asked.
She closed her eyes for a long time, looking as though she might vomit if she spoke too quickly.
“Death,” she said. “It smells like … death.”
My eyes left her again, shifting down to where the thing had been wrangled to the floor, and it hit me.
A witch.
And judging by the way Evangeline responded to the powerful stench, I could only guess this one was as evil as the day is long.
“Liam … wait!”
Soft hands grasped at my arms as I rushed down the steps, but I slipped through them.
“Liam,” she called out again, making it hard to miss the panic in her voice.
Her steps fell in sync with mine as we descended, my focus never leaving the creature someone thought it’d be wise to bring into our home.
Stepping down into the foyer, I crossed the few feet to the witch, but was halted by a hand pressed firmly to my chest.
“It’s not a good idea to get so close, Liam.” I glanced up, meeting Elise’s worried gaze. As she stood between me and our ‘guest’, the panicked expression she wore matched her daughter’s.
I ignored her, feeling the roughness of the sack between my fingertips when I pulled it from the monster’s head.
Putrid.
My shoulders squared as I laid eyes on the thing—skin the sickening greenish-gray of a corpse, brittle black hair that stood out in every direction. It’s dry, crusted lips parted with another scream, revealing blackened teeth rotted away by a lifetime of dark magic.
Anger filled me to capacity.
“What is this?” I asked, barely getting the words out as I gritted my teeth. “You brought this thing here? Where your daughter lays her head at night?”
I couldn’t wrap my mind around the negligence.
“We’re all out of options,” Elise reasoned. “We needed another witch to assist Hilda with the spell.”
“Or maybe it’s just time to accept things for what they are,” I snapped.
The house was quiet other than the mindless screaming that came from Elise’s guest.
I braced both fists at my sides. It felt like my heart would come through my chest, throbbing against my ribcage as I struggled to breathe normally.
“And you thought this was a good idea?” I asked, directing the question at Hilda. “Judging by the fight she’s putting up, I’m guessing she’s a fugitive, one with a hefty bounty on her head. Yet, it still seemed smart to endanger your niece’s life bringing her here?”
Hilda glared for a long moment before making an admission. “This was my idea.”
I’d begun to pace, but those words made me pause. She was usually more level-headed than the rest of us, so this news was definitely a surprise.
“And to answer your question,” she went on, “no, I did not think it was a good idea, but I can’t help but to think it would be an even worse idea to do nothing, to pretend we don’t need the boys back.” She hesitated a moment, and then said more. “We’re not as strong as we used to be as a unit, and it’s foolish to pretend our numbers haven’t decreased.”
Even without her being direct, saying my name, I knew that remark was meant for me. No, not a petty jab, but Hilda’s way of explaining why I was in no position to fight this decision.
“Hilda, please,” Elise cut in, interpreting the comment just as I had.
“We’re not in the business of coddling one another or sparing each other’s feelings!” Hilda’s voice boomed above that of the outsider. “Not with all that’s at stake.”
“No, but we are supposed to behave like a family.” Hilda and Elise’s attention shifted toward Evangeline when she spoke up. Dallas’, too, from his position against the far wall. I hadn’t noticed him standing there before now, but the look on his face made it apparent he wasn’t a part of this. He looked almost as angry as I felt.
Evangeline stepped forward and, instinctively, I stretched an arm in front of her, blocking her from getting too close to the witch.
“Liam’s more than just a ‘number’,” Evangeline said in defense of me, rendering her aunt speechless with her tone. “We all are. Or at least we should be.”
Typically, Hilda had been revered in this home, allowed to speak her mind freely because her years and knowledge surpassed us all, but today … she’d been challenged.
To my surprise, she had no rebuttal.
“Listen, we’re all a bit … emotionally charged at the moment,” Elise intervened, pushing a hand through her hair as tension marked her expression. “Guards, please escort Maisy to the designated area.”
The way she spoke, it was clear this was a well-thought-out operation, one Evangeline and I had conveniently been left out of.
With the witch gone, I could actually hear myself think, but no longer wanted to discuss the matter. The more time that passed since awakening, the more I realized I was powerless, the more I realized the others saw me in the same light.
Evangeline followed as I took the steps by two, and I let her in before slamming my bedroom door shut behind me.
My chest heaved as I paced, and I became lightheaded.
“You can’t stay here. In this house. Not while that thing is here,” I seethed, finding it hard to focus.
What on Earth would possess them to do something so stupid?
“Liam … I think you should calm down.”
I ignored the plea and continued to pace. My own heavy breaths rushing from my nostrils was all I focused on—the sound of my rage peaking with nowhere to go but outward, like an explosion.
“Check with Beth to see if you can stay there for a while,” I ordered. “I’ll help you pack.”
“No,” she rebutted, crossing her arms over her chest.
If I’d been in my right mind, I would’ve known demanding that she do something would result in her direct refusal, but now wasn’t the time for treading lightly. She might not understand how dangerous it was to be here, but I did.
“And what about you?”
Her question made me halt. “What about me?”
The concern in her eyes bled through her expression—another reminder of my vulnerability and her awareness of it. I walked away, going to stand near the window instead. Seeing the concern that riddled her face had become a struggle.
She rested against the door, letting out a heavy sigh.
“I’ll be fine here,” she reasoned. “Her magic can’t hurt me, remember?”
I didn’t answer right away, still trying to grasp how I got to this place. It wasn’t that I’d forgotten her immunity, but the idea of her sleeping here, under the same roof with something that vile … I couldn’t grasp it.
Soft footsteps came closer, and then hands circled my waist, warming my stomach at the same time her cheek warmed my back.
“I agree this is crazy, and I also agree it sucks,” she sighed, “But … I kinda trust Elise and Hilda on this one.”
I breathed in, readying myself to argue my own point, but she continued on before I got the chance.
“Granted, they should have told us, but I’m sure they had their reasons for going over our heads.”
“Reasons like not wanting me to stop them?”
I felt her cheek tighte
n against my back and I knew she was smiling. How or why she was smiling, I had no idea.
“Or maybe because they know you’ve been through a lot,” she reasoned. “Because they know I was a mess a short time ago, waiting for your eyes to open.”
My thoughts lingered there, on imagery of Evangeline sitting beside my bed all those weeks, hopeless, wondering if I’d ever wake up.
“I trust them,” she finally breathed, the warm air drifting over my skin as she explained. “I trust that they took whatever precautions are necessary to keep us all safe, trust that Hilda wouldn’t have suggested it if she didn’t believe we were all out of options.”
That didn’t make me feel any better, knowing we’d reached the point on our rope where we had to decide whether to tie a knot or let go. The disadvantages seemed to be mounting against us, and I’d seen enough of war to know good didn’t always triumph over evil.
“You need a breather.” Her voice was sweet, calm.
She cinched her arms tighter around my waist.
“How about, if I agree to go to Beth’s til’ morning, you agree to get out of here for a while, too?” she suggested. “At least for a couple hours.”
I considered her offer and realized how desperate I was to know she’d be safe tonight. It became clearer when I nodded, agreeing to those terms.
She took a breath. “Okay. I’ll pack my things and you get dressed.”
I glanced toward the clock; it was well past eleven. Normally, that wouldn’t have been a big deal, but lately, it’d been a struggle keeping my eyes open past midnight.
Still, because she agreed to take off for tonight, I had to keep up my end of the bargain.
At the sound of my door latching and Evangeline heading into her own room, I exhaled the tension mounting in my gut. Not even the strength and determination I had before proved to be enough to save her.
I could only imagine how inept I’d be if something—or someone—was to come for her now.
I couldn’t keep living like this.
Something had to give.
Chapter Nine
Nick
‘Can’t. Exhausted.’