Forbidden Darkness (Immortal Desire Series Book 1)

by Scarlett West

  Reinis groaned and shifted his body away from his uncle. Several weeks had passed and he hadn’t ingested a drop. “I will when the elders allow Sarma to be my heartmate.”

  Miervaldis cracked one of the bottles open. Reinis’ nostrils twitched when the rich, tangy scent of blood hit his nose. His fangs extended and his pupils dilated. He threw himself onto the stone floor away from his uncle and inhaled the earthy smell of the stone floor.

  “You know that’s impossible. No one has the power to change centuries of decrees, Reinis.” Miervaldis nudged his side, coaxing him to drink. “You and Sarma cannot be heartmates.”

  “Then get out. And take those bottles with you. Relay the message to the elders. Either Sarma and I join for life, or I don’t feed. My death will be on their hands,” Reinis growled as strong as he could through wheezing lungs.

  His body was giving up on him. Those last words stung as his mother and uncle were included in the threat. It took all of his resolve not to down those bottles, but there was no other way to fight for Sarma. Miervaldis pushed off the ground and the door clanged as he departed. The fragrance of blood remained in the air, stirring his primal need to feed. But he held onto his fast. Starvation and the weight of the chains around his arms was nothing compared to the lead ball in his chest.

  Dizzy and weak, Reinis trembled with rage. He wished he had run off and taken Sarma somewhere far away. Now he was locked up. If he broke out he would be captured or killed. He allowed his body to deteriorate into a weakened, crippled state.

  ~ * ~

  Returning to the cabin after a trip into town, Sarma put the groceries away and checked her messages. The interview went well, and she could start at the yoga studio in town. She thought to call Marita to update her on the new situation, but she had no clue how to explain a thing about her new life. Marita would beg her to go “home”, but Sarma had no home. Nothing brought comfort to her empty and aching heart. Every detail of life reflected back to Reinis. The ocean breeze reminded her of his body and the way he hovered. The blanket was permeated with his scent. She hid it in a drawer each day, vowing never to take it out again, only to return it to her bed every night.

  Sarma flipped on her laptop and was surfing the web when someone knocked on the door. She froze. She tiptoed to the door and cracked it open. Laima stood on the other side, her long hair cascading down her back. Reinis was every inch her son. Gorgeous and amazing. And untouchable. Without the elders’ permission, they could never be together. She slammed the door in her face, locked the deadbolt, and yanked the chain across.

  Laima knocked again. Sarma went out the back door and peered over the patio fence to find an escape route. Laima would be too fast. With nowhere to hide, she laid down on the bed and pulled the blanket over herself. If she waited long enough, Laima might leave.

  “Let me in. Please, Sarma. Reinis is sick and needs you,” Laima pleaded.

  Sarma charged the door and yelled through it, banging a fist against it. “Do the elders care about me and how sick I’ve been? No. Everything you vampires say to me are lies. I never want to see any of you ever again. Leave and don’t come back!”

  “Please, my son won’t feed.”

  “Don’t you know how much I care about him? You only want me to help so you can use me. Well, I’m through with the games, Laima.”

  “He’s on a hunger strike. Refusing to eat until the elders relent. But they won’t. He is self-destructing.”

  Her cries barged through the door. No wonder the imprint waned. Reinis was dying.

  “Sarmiņa. Please.”

  Dying? What was she supposed to do? Sarma wanted to agree, wanted to know she could make a difference, but the coven had wrapped Reinis and her up in web so thick, she didn’t know if she could survive seeing him again if they couldn’t stay together.

  But Laima called Sarma the diminutive form of her name. No one called her that since she was a child, and only her father used that name. Laima’s sobs pierced the bitter hub her heart had become. She unlocked the door and pulled it open. Laima collapsed in her arms. Shocked to see her so broken, Sarma led her into the kitchen and sat her in a chair. She put some water on to boil to prepare a loose-leaf tea mix Laima had left behind.

  “I know you never want to see me again. Vampires feel things more deeply and clearly than humans do. I have endured your suffering. I’m begging you to give Reinis hope. Send word you’ll come back to Latvia with me for the solstice celebration.” Laima’s reach crossed the table.

  Sarma recoiled. So this was what Laima’s charade was about. “I’m not your puppet, Laima. I will not be a vessel for your kind. You’re all brutal, heartless, and self-absorbed.”

  “He loves you, Sarma. You are the only hope he has to cling to.”

  “What hope can I give him?” Sarma snapped. “We can never be together. Those are your decrees, not mine. I’m not having a baby with the love of my life only to never see our child or his father again.”

  “I’m not asking you to return for Auseklis, not for the coven, nor even for my son. I want you to go because it’s what your heart wants. I know deep inside, you want to fight for Reinis. And believe me, Sarma, he fights for you as well. Return to him for you, not for anyone else, and because you know you will regret it with every fiber of your being if you don’t. Have faith. You can’t lose faith.” She clenched her teeth and made a fist. “Humans murdered my husband, and I saw his dismembered body, but I never gave up.”

  Laima was right. Deep inside, her heart wanted and needed Reinis. She wanted to fight for him. “But you haven’t found love again. And tell me, what is there to have faith in?” Sarma crossed her arms and winced inside.

  “In the life within us, around us, the life we were meant to lead.”

  “My life? Look around. Reinis is gone. Your coven’s elders have left me with no choice. Laima, what life do I have to live?” Sarma closed her eyes despising the pain in Laima’s expression.

  “When I lost my husband I already had my children. I know heartache. I know the complete darkness of losing the one you love most, but you have a chance. Reinis is alive. You can fight for him. I fight for you! Don’t you see?”

  Laima startled Sarma by wrapping her firm hand around Sarma’s forearm. Her words were a tiny light glimmering in the shadows things had become.

  “But they are going to take my son from me the minute he’s born. Your children are with you.” She felt guilty for pushing Laima away—the vampire who had been nothing but kind to her, who had become the mother she never had. She didn’t want Laima to lose Reinis, as well.

  “You don’t know the future, Sarma. You don’t know that will happen for sure.”

  “Actually, it was explained to me, crystal clear,” Sarma blurted out.

  “Do you know what my name means?” Laima stared at Sarma with the same piercing eyes Reinis had, her pupils huge.

  Sarma wavered, not wanting to hear more. But Laima’s olive eyes reflected trust and brought her peace when her heart writhed with turmoil.

  “My father died when I was young, and my mother never taught me Latvian.” Sarma turned away, crossing her arms.

  “Laima is the name of the Goddess of fate, family, and happiness. Do you think it’s a coincidence we met?”

  “Fate and family? Happiness?” Sarma laughed bitterly. “I love Reinis. There is no doubt about that. But I don’t understand this, Laima. How can fate be so harsh? To love someone more than you ever loved and be ripped from him? Then they want me to birth a son I will never hold? That’s not fate. It’s cruelty.” Sarma turned off the steaming teapot and gripped the edge of the stove. “You should leave. You can’t mend my broken heart. Every single one of you betrayed me.”

  “I won’t leave, Sarma.”

  The chair scraped across the wooden floor as Laima stood again.

  “You’re as selfish as the elders and the rest of your kind,” Sarma barked, shutting out Laima. She shut out Reinis. She shut out everyone.


  “I don’t take your words lightly. I am defending both of you against the elders I’ve known my whole life, and I will continue to fight for you to be together. The other elders will be convinced.”

  “Why isn’t he fighting for me?” Sarma said. “You want me to be strong for him, and he’s wasting away instead of fighting for me.”

  “He is fighting for you,” Laima replied softly. “The elders have stolen his hope. Our coven police followed me when I took him back to Latvia. If he hadn’t returned that moment, they would have executed him in Arcata. Reinis doesn’t want to die and yet, he is starving himself for you. He wants to force the elders to allow you to be heartmates.”

  “Executed him in Arcata?” Sarma wrung her hands. Laima nodded her head in silence. A tiny piece of Sarma wanted to let go. Laima was right. She had a chance to fight for something she wanted—rather than go along with everyone else’s wishes as she did her whole life. Pain and love filled Laima’s eyes and echoed in her words.

  “We are selfish. For our survival. We fight for our kind. And for yours. Yes, it’s cruel, but that’s not why I’m standing here. I’m begging you to have a dreaming ceremony with me. If we share the same vision, a good dream, will you go to Latvia with me? If we dream badly, I promise you, female to female, I will respect your desire, and you’ll never see us again. I will convince the elders to free you.”

  Sarma pondered her words. The image of powerful Reinis wasting away gnawed at her. Laima’s pain gnawed at her. What if there was a tiny chance they could be together? What if he died? She would be the worst fool not to fight for that small flicker of hope. Not everyone got a second chance. She was furious but she still loved him. Sarma turned back around.

  Laima’s black hair was ruffled, her green eyes showed only sadness and desperation. Her natural grace had vanished.

  “I’ll go, but I’m not promising I’ll do the ceremony on Winter Solstice. We’ll dream only because you are good to me. If Reinis dies because I didn’t try one last time, I will never forgive myself. But I’m exhausted, I can’t take any more of this. This is the last chance.” She stabbed her index finger into an open palm.

  “Paldies. Liels paldies.” Thank you, thank you so much,” Laima gasped. A tiny glint of light returned to her eyes.

  Sarma sat at the table while Laima prepared the tea. She prayed out loud over the teacups and begged the goddess Laima to bring them a good dream. Tears almost squeezed out of Laima’s eyes. The balance hung in this dream and that tortured Sarma, knowing she had no control over the outcome.

  Chapter 39

  In the dark room, Reinis hunched over, his head bent forward and his chained arms hung limp by his sides. The wall held him up. Somewhere on the edge of his foggy consciousness, someone shut the door and snuck toward him in the dark, lifting his head. Too weak to move or talk, he couldn’t gather any strength to respond.

  “Reinis?” Whoever had arrived gathered his head in a lap. “You don’t know who I am, do you? Don’t die. You’re my brother. If you die, the only other male I’ve ever really known will be gone. Please, Reinis, you have to drink from me.”

  A soft, feminine voice whispered through the room and sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “You disgust me. I’ve never known love, but if I did, I would fight. I’m sick with jealousy for what Sarma and you have. I know you can hear me. Damn you, Reinis. I’m bordering on hating you. Drink from my arm, or I’m going to finish you off myself.”

  He didn’t move. She bit her wrist and forced it into his mouth. A lightning surge of blood thirst bolted through his body. His mouth clamped down on her wrist and sucked. After the female fed him, she retrieved several bottles of blood nearby and poured them down his throat. He sputtered, his body shaking with life. Within a few minutes, his chest rose and fell with more strength, and he opened his eyes, growling.

  “Velta?”

  “It’s me, you idiot. The ceremony is coming. Don’t you want to see Sarma?” Velta wiped the blood from his chin.

  “Stop the sarcasm, Velta. Why did you do this? To torture me? Don’t you get it? She never wants to see me again...I can never be in a relationship with her, and the elders prohibited me from seeing her until Solstice. If she comes…I know she hates me for leaving,” he rasped.

  “I’m serious. Mammu went to see her. She agreed to a dreaming ceremony. Stop with the self-pity and get up, Reinis. I have nothing to fight for, but you do.”

  “Go away. I can’t believe you revived me just to screw with me.” He pulled away.

  “I’m telling you the truth. Laima, the Goddess of Fate, will send her a good dream, Reinis. I know it.”

  “Why are you helping me now?” Reinis tried to straighten up but flopped onto his sister.

  “You have no reason to believe me. I’ve been selfish and mean. Gatis approached me. He wanted me to join his side of the family. He promised to make my powers stronger. I don’t know what they’re planning, but he scared me.” She hoisted him up.

  The news made him sit up. “Gatis came to you?”

  “He promised that Dita would use her abilities so that I could become Auseklis’ mother. She would increase my powers. I laughed at him. Gatis is a crazy fool. Since then, they’ve been silent. Silence is deadly for us. Who knows what they are planning.”

  “I should have killed him when I had the chance.” Reinis gritted his teeth.

  “If you get off your ass, you may still have a chance.” Velta squeezed his hand.

  “How can I leave? I’m locked in here.” Sitting up, Reinis lifted his arms.

  “Don’t leave. Just don’t give up. Sarma will be here soon. I’ve had enough being the good sister. I’m about to puke.” Velta stood up in the darkness and brushed herself off.

  “Wait.” He took hold of his sister’s leg. “Why did you do this?”

  “Because our family has seen enough pain, Reinis. Mother would never be the same if you died. Besides, who would I hate?” She laughed.

  “Thanks.” Reinis smiled in the dark.

  “Don’t get mushy on me. I’ll be around. But not that close.”

  ~ * ~

  Sarma fiddled with a napkin in her hand while Laima cooked her breakfast.

  “What was your dream?” Laima asked.

  “I’m not ready to say.”

  “Our decision hinges on it. We only proceed if the vision was the same.” She folded her hands on the table.

  “How much do I have to explain?” Sarma stirred her coffee.

  Laima touched Sarma’s hand. “Do you want to go to Latvia? That’s all I need to know.”

  “Yes, I’ve decided to go,” Sarma replied.

  “That’s all I needed to know.”

  Sarma hoped she made the correct decision. That she didn’t walk toward a death trap.

  ~ * ~

  On their return to Latvia, the coven left Sarma in the manor. She spent her day warming up by a roaring fire. The space was brightly lit, expansive, but cozy with maroon satin curtains, mahogany furniture, and black leather upholstery. Except for murmurs of voices and footsteps in the rooms above her, the manor stayed quiet. The large window offered Sarma a view of the courtyard with its mounds of drifted snow. At times, she imagined she rode the breeze with flurries swirling around her. Other times, the drab winter sky and long, cold nights alone burdened her.

  When would she be allowed to visit with Reinis? She dozed in a soft armchair until the sharp image of Reinis’ face pushed out of her dreams. Awake—all she could think of was seeing him. And then what? Yell at him? Or simply run to him, let him sweep her into his arms and say all the words she longed to hear.

  Against her doubts, the dream convinced her to meet him for the joining ceremony.

  A young woman dressed in jeans and a white blouse stepped into the room. “Sarma, please come with me.” Her black hair was layered with big, loose curls. Her brown eyes were dark as blood.

  “I’m Hilda, Reinis’ cousin.” She shook Sarma’s hand.

/>   Hilda’s hand was smooth and dainty but strong. “You’re all so beautiful,” Sarma whispered.

  “Thank you.” Hilda smiled. “So are you. I can see why my cousin fell in love with you.”

  Hilda picked up Sarma’s heavy suitcase as though it was nothing to her. Like the rest of the vampires, Hilda moved with grace. She glided through a hallway, up a wide, marble staircase, and down another hall speckled with doors. Suddenly insecure, Sarma trailed behind her. She was not as beautiful as the vampires were. No human came close.

  Hilda opened one of the tall, wooden doors, and guided her in. “Laima has many things to prepare, so we will care for you. I will be back with food.” Hilda placed her things on one of the red leather chairs. The mahogany furniture in the large bedroom included a dresser with a mirror, and a bed with an elaborately carved headboard.

  Sarma collapsed into a chair, clasped her hands together, and placed them on her lap.

  “This must seem strange and frightening. I wanted to thank you personally for coming, for making the sacrifice. You don’t know how much this means to us.” Hilda shifted her eyes to the floor. A waft of sadness moved across Hilda’s face.

  The coven had suffered much. It wasn’t about Reinis’ selfishness or Laima’s despair, it was about the survival of an entire species.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you.” Hilda approached Sarma. “Can I braid your hair? It’s shiny and beautiful.”

  “You all love to do that. Braid hair. Laima has braided my hair . . . several times.” Sarma remembered her “dream” in the hospital, and Reinis’ sweet touch after he gave her the bath.

  “It’s relaxing, and a way we show affection.” A smile spread on Hilda’s face, again. She was dignified but gentle.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Hilda unraveled her bun and combed her fingers through her hair. Sarma’s body went limp with calm.