Zahara approached her, fury tightening her expression.
“Why would you say those things?” she demanded. “Why?!”
“I—I spoke the words of the Binding spell,” Naomi said, blinking at her in confusion.
“No,” Madalena said, stepping forward, her expression infused with worry. “At first you were. And then they changed.”
“To what? What did I say?”
There was a long silence. It was Alaric who broke it. He stepped forward, his tone grim. “You said, ‘Death to all inferiors, humans and Blood Beasts. Witches will have their rightful place.’”
Chapter 4
“I don’t know how I could have said those things,” Naomi said.
He stood at Naomi’s side as she faced the leaders of the Alliance; the other members had been dismissed. Alaric could see the telltale signs of her tension; her pale skin, rapid breathing, and trembling hands.
“If you don’t want me to join—” Naomi continued, her voice wavering.
“It’s done,” Blaize said curtly. “Once you utter the Oath, it’s binding. A magical contract. You’re now a member of the Alliance.”
“We believe you didn’t intend to say those things,” Isobel said, and Naomi relaxed at his side. “But . . . it’s still concerning. Forcing a witch to utter words she didn’t intend requires a very specific spell—it had to come from someone in this room.”
“Another Alliance member?” Alaric asked, his body stiffening with alarm.
“This never leaves this room,” Zahara replied, “but, yes. If Naomi didn’t speak the words of her own accord—“
“I didn’t,” Naomi interrupted.
“Then the only way you could have been forced to speak those words is if another witch was close enough to make you do so.”
Alaric clenched his fists at his side. Ever since the confrontation with Raphael, there were rumors of a traitor in the Alliance, but a cursory investigation hadn’t turned up anything conclusive.
“We’ll investigate this matter further,” Isobel said, looking troubled.
“What do I do in the meanwhile?” Naomi asked. “If some other witch is able to get into my mind, forcing me to say things—“
“There are several spells you can use to block off your mind,” Madalena said, stepping forward to give Naomi a reassuring smile. “I already told you about some of them back at the estate when you were trying to keep Raphael out of your mind. We can go over them again.”
“And remain observant,” Zahara said. “If there is any more foreign communication in your mind, notify us. Immediately.”
Still looking tense, Naomi nodded her assent.
“Try to enjoy the party as much as you can,” Madalena said, lifting her hand. The door swung open behind them. “We’ll be out shortly.”
Alaric took Naomi’s hand and started to lead her out, but Blaize’s voice stopped them.
“Naomi?”
They turned. Blaize smiled, revealing his fangs. Alaric stilled; the smile might as well have been a threatening sneer. “Welcome to the Alliance.”
Alaric heard Naomi’s heartbeat speed up as she gave Blaize a jerky nod of thanks. Alaric glared at him—what was that all about? But Blaize met his glare with a challenging look of his own.
Naomi tugged on his hand, and they left the room together. As soon as the door swung shut behind them, he stopped, turning her to face him.
“Naomi—“
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. “At least . . . not right now. Let me just get through this party.”
She gave him a pleading look, and he softened. She must have been terrified by what just happened. He took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, and they headed down the corridor towards the ballroom.
All eyes settled on them as they entered. But to Alaric’s relief, most of the members acted as if the incident in the ceremonial room hadn’t happened; they were polite and warm to Naomi, approaching to congratulate her. A few even thanked her for killing Raphael and destroying the Stone.
Not everyone displayed such cordialness. Though no one outwardly acknowledged the elephant in the room, there were looks of curiosity as they spoke to her, and in some cases, suspicion. It was those looks that Alaric found most difficult to tolerate. Don’t you know what she’s been through? he wanted to shout. Many of you would be dead if it weren’t for her.
But he kept a polite smile pinned on his face; it would do no good to cause a scene. To her credit, Naomi hid her unease well. Her tight smile seemed almost genuine.
He was about to suggest they move to the other part of the ballroom for some refreshments when he heard a familiar voice behind him.
“Alaric.”
Alaric tensed. He turned, trying to keep his expression neutral as a statuesque vampire with waist length chestnut blonde hair, wide blue eyes and gleaming ivory skin approached. She stood out, even in a room full of supernatural creatures. A ripple of jealousy flowed through the bond he shared with Naomi. He slipped his arm around her, wanting to assure her that the woman posed no threat to their relationship. But the vampire was dangerous . . . in other ways.
“Elisabetta,” he said, past stiff lips. How was she a member of the Alliance? Had she crashed the induction ceremony? Naomi studied Elisabetta with curiosity, and a trace of jealousy. He needed to get her away. “We were just about to—“ he began.
“At least allow me to offer my congratulations,” Elisabetta interrupted, her words shaped by a faint Italian accent. She moved forward to block their path, her blue eyes settling on Naomi’s golden ones. The vampire extended her manicured hand towards Naomi, and Alaric fought the instinct to snatch it away. “Welcome to the Alliance, Naomi.”
“Thank you,” Naomi said, looking back and forth between Alaric and Elisabetta; she’d picked up on their tension.
Alaric tried to steer Naomi away, but Elisabetta’s grip tightened on Naomi’s hand.
“Get your hand off her,” he snarled, baring his fangs.
“Alaric. Calm down,” Naomi hissed.
But Elisabetta was unfazed; in fact, she looked amused. She dropped her hand, her red lips curving in a mischievous smile.
“I see our Alaric still has that infamous temper,” she said, her voice dropping with seductive meaning. Naomi stiffened at his side. Damn you, Elisabetta. He didn’t want Naomi to find out about Elisabetta this way. Hell, he didn’t want her to know about Elisabetta at all.
Glowering at Elisabetta, he took Naomi’s arm and used his speed to get them both away from her; within seconds they were on the opposite side of the ballroom.
“Who was that?” Naomi demanded.
“No one.”
“Alaric,” Naomi repeated, firm. “Who. Was. That?”
Alaric hesitated. How to describe Elisabetta in the simplest terms?
“She was an old lover,” he said finally. “Things did not end well.” It was an understatement, but it would have to do.
“That’s what I figured,” Naomi murmured; jealousy again flaring in her eyes. “She’s very beautiful.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew her,” he said darkly. “I can’t believe they let her join the Alliance.”
“Why? Is there something else you’re not telling me?”
“She’s dangerous. Let’s leave it at that. If for whatever reason she approaches you on her own—get the hell away from her. Do you understand me?”
“Not until you tell me why she’s so dangerous.”
“Congratulations, Naomi.”
A petite witch approached them with a kind smile, and Alaric was grateful for the intrusion. Naomi looked mildly irritated, but engaged in polite chatter with the witch. Alaric turned, scanning the ballroom. Elisabetta was nowhere to be seen, but this didn’t make him feel any better.
Fortunately, Naomi remained busy with well wishers for the rest of the evening, and when there were lulls, she didn’t pepper him with questions about Elisabetta.
He hoped she
would drop the matter given the magnitude of what happened during her induction ceremony. But after the celebration came to an end, and they returned to their guest bedroom later that night, Naomi closed the door behind them and leaned against the door, crossing her arms.
“Now,” she said, “tell me about this ex of yours. Are all your ex lovers that beautiful?”
He frowned. Naomi seemed preoccupied with Elisabetta’s surface beauty. Alaric was so aware of her murderous ways that he barely noticed her beauty. To him, Elisabetta only represented darkness; a part of his past he wanted to forget. Now he only craved light. Naomi was his light.
“Don’t you want to talk about what happened during the ceremony?” Alaric asked, hoping he could get her to drop this. “If another witch was in your mind, that’s—“
“Not going to work,” Naomi interrupted. “I’m done with you being evasive. Now tell me more about her, or I’ll use a Truth Telling spell on you.”
“There’s no such thing as a Truth Telling spell.”
“Oh, really?” Naomi asked, arching an eyebrow. “Let’s test it out, shall we? Elerim oni—“
“Elisabetta was the first lover I had after Ileana died,” Alaric said quickly. “I met her when I spent some time in Italy.”
He still doubted a Truth Telling spell existed, but he didn’t want to take the risk of Naomi using magic to pry into his mind. He gritted his teeth. There were certain downsides to being in a relationship with a witch.
Naomi smiled with triumph, gesturing for him to continue.
“But she was dark; darker than I had ever been. I remember one incident in particular. She took me to her home after we saw an opera together; I thought she wanted to make love. Instead, there was a human couple tied up in her bedroom. She’d drained their blood almost to the point of death, but they were still alive. I’ve been in that state before; it’s more painful than you can imagine,” he said, his stomach twisting at the memory. “They could barely speak but they pleaded for their lives. Elisabetta wanted me to kill them; she insisted that giving into my bloodlust was the only way to pull me out of my grief. I refused—I was going to save them, even if it meant turning them. But before I could, she eviscerated them. Ripped out their throats as they screamed. She laughed at the sight of their destroyed bodies; it sickened me to my core.”
Naomi went pale, as he continued, “She took pleasure in killing humans and witches. And she particularly hated witches,” he added, giving Naomi a meaningful look. “I was turned off by her cruelty; it reminded me of the part of myself I hated. Our affair only lasted weeks; I ended it after she killed those humans. She didn’t take it well after I ended things. She threatened my next two lovers; I had to leave Europe for a spell. When I returned, she’d focused her amorous attentions elsewhere. I didn’t know she was a member of the Alliance. Perhaps she’s no longer a killer and repented her old ways like me.”
But I doubt it, he thought to himself. During their brief interaction in the ballroom, he could tell that Elisabetta still possessed that darkness, that innate cruelty. He recognized it because a part of him was still dark; he’d suppressed his murderous ways, but only barely. He could sometimes feel it lurking beneath every part of him, like a snake that hadn’t fully shed its skin.
Naomi still looked pale, but she unfolded her arms and expelled a breath.
“Thanks for telling me,” she said. “And there’s no such thing as a Truth Telling Spell,” she added, with a guilty look.
“You little liar,” Alaric said, with an exaggerated groan. He stepped forward, wanting to clear Elisabetta from her mind. He wanted to prove to Naomi how much she meant to him. And only her.
“You are the most beautiful woman in the world to me,” he whispered. “I desire you more than I’ve desired anyone; I crave you constantly.”
In a quick move, he stripped off the ceremonial robe she still wore. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he unzipped the black dress she wore beneath.
Naomi gasped as he lifted her; she wrapped her legs around his waist as he slipped off his pants. Inhaling her sweet scent, he began to pepper kisses along her throat.
“Alaric,” she whispered, her eyes hazy with desire. “Please . . .”
“As you wish,” he whispered, before sinking into her. She moaned, and he leaned in to kiss her as he began to move. “You consume every part of me, Naomi Feldman,” he whispered against her mouth. “You and only you.”
They moved in unison, their eyes locked, until their bodies quaked their mutual release.
“I love you, Alaric,” she whispered, breathless.
Warmth filled him at her words. He moved with her to the bed, and Naomi fell asleep cradled in his arms. He remained awake, his thoughts on Elisabetta and the traitor in the Alliance. Something was happening; he couldn’t pin exactly what it was, but he knew it only meant danger for Naomi. He needed every layer of protection he could grasp to keep her safe.
It was just past dawn when Naomi stirred. Alaric stood by the window, looking out at the pale early morning sky.
“Good morning, handsome,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes.
Alaric didn’t reply. He moved to the side of the bed and knelt down. He’d seen human men do this; he hoped he was in the right position. It seemed he was, because Naomi’s eyes widened.
“I love you, Naomi. With every part of my being. We share a Blood Bond, but I want us to be mated in every way possible. Will you bind yourself to me in the way of witches? Will you marry me?”
Chapter 5
As Naomi stared into Alaric’s eyes, for a brief shining moment she forgot all about the Stone, the Order, Elisabetta, or last night’s disastrous induction ceremony.
“Yes,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “God, Alaric. Of course. Yes.”
There was no other answer. She’d never thought Alaric would propose the traditional, human way; they already shared a Blood Bond, the most profound way you could be connected amongst vampires. But there was a part of her that had fantasized about marrying Alaric; she’d lived in the human world for most of her life, where marriage was the norm.
Alaric beamed, and she glimpsed a sheen of blood tears in his eyes as he crawled onto the bed and enveloped her into his arms. His lips met hers in a searing kiss. Love and desire swirled through her, and he only released her when she was breathless.
She leaned forward to rest her forehead against his, filled with elation. But a flicker of doubt crept into her thoughts. She leaned back, studying him.
“Why now?” she asked.
Something shifted in Alaric’s gaze, and his smile faltered. Naomi’s heart sank. He was hiding something.
“Is this about Elisabetta?” she asked stiffly, extricating herself from his grasp to stand. “Are you just trying to prove—“
“Absolutely not,” he said. “I love you and want us to be bonded in every way we can.”
“But . . . with everything that’s happening,” she said, shaking her head. Her momentary bliss had faded; reality was settling in. “Another Stone, a possible traitor in the Alliance, the Order . . .”
“The war with the Order could last for years. It’s already lasted for decades,” Alaric said, standing, eyes blazing. “I’m not going to wait to marry the love of my life while we fight them.”
The love of my life. Joy exploded in her chest at his words; she had to blink back another wave of tears. Why couldn’t they have found each other under different circumstances? She’d been in constant danger from the Order since the moment they’d met.
But she hadn’t let the events of the past few weeks stop her from falling in love with him. Why put their future on hold?
“You’re right,” she said, her shoulders relaxing. “I want to marry you, Alaric Donatien.”
She rarely used his last name; the name from his human years. She was showing him that she wanted to marry all of him. The man he had been; the vampire he was. It was something they’d struggled with during the early days of their rel
ationship, Alaric holding himself back from her. It was only when they’d committed to each other that he shared his full history with her.
Alaric seemed to recognize this, and the tension in his body vanished. He smiled, that beautiful smile that made him incandescent. He stepped forward, reaching up to cup the sides of her face with his cool hands.
“I’ve lived a long time, but I’ve never been married before,” he confessed.
“I’m glad,” Naomi said, with a playful grin. “I’d use a Hexing spell on anyone you married before me. I was tempted to use one one Elisabetta last night.”
“I wouldn’t have stopped you,” Alaric said, before his expression turned serious. “You need to know something, Naomi. Because we live longer, supernatural creatures take bonding vows more seriously than humans. We have many lovers, but our chosen mates are permanent.”
“If you’re asking me if I have any doubts, you already know the answer,” Naomi said, narrowing her eyes. “I know what it means to be bonded to you—“
“It means forever, Naomi,” Alaric interrupted. “It means there’s no going back.”
“I want more than forever,” she whispered, reaching up to touch his face. “You know that. I nearly created an earthquake when I thought you died. Or have you already forgotten?”
“No. I just wanted you to be aware—“
“You have my answer. Now, if you’re done asking me questions you already know the answer to, how about we celebrate our engagement properly?”
Grinning, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Alaric’s eyes glittered, and in a quick flash of movement, he lowered her to the bed.
“This,” he murmured, peppering kisses along the bare flesh of her abdomen, “is a very important part of celebrating engagements in the supernatural world.”
“Well, then,” Naomi said, her breath hitching in her throat, “you should teach me to properly—“
But she didn’t finish her sentence, her words spiraling into a moan of pleasure.
“Congratulations,” Elias said, grinning. “For the record, I called this the moment Alaric brought you back from Athens.”
Marked Descendant Page 3