His Dark Embrace

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His Dark Embrace Page 29

by Verika Sloane

“Then let’s be together as long as we can! Enjoy what time we have.” Was this madness boiling inside her? She’d never felt so desperate to hold on to anything in her life.

  His hands slipped away as he stepped back. “Ending it is best. For both of us. Trust me.”

  Nya howled with Kimber’s despair. “What if I stay in Atlanta? I’ll—I’ll get an apartment, a job, and we’ll make it so we let each other go on our own time.”

  His handsome face twisted in gobsmacked disbelief. “Leave your pack? Go on seeing each other in secret and living on the edge of discovery? Only to tire of each other in a year and regret ripping apart our lives just to become lovers?” He turned his back with a muffled curse. “I’m already regretting taking that walk at Avery’s.”

  The pain of those words…it was as if he’d struck her. “You don’t mean that.”

  His chin trembled for a moment. “Forgive me. No, I don’t regret it. I’m just… Kimber, I’ve completely dismissed my affairs. Put a life I struggled and crafted for two centuries on the line to have stolen hours with you. Even my brother knows something is off. What the hell am I doing? Are we doing? This obsession between us has to stop. Now.”

  Nya cried harder as Kimber’s pain magnified. Even though her heart was breaking, Shain’s words rang true. Was she really willing to upend her entire life just to be with him?

  The urge to sob consumed her like a tidal wave. But if she started, she might not stop. Not only because they were ending, but for everything. How their carefully planned weekend away didn’t turn out the way she’d hoped. How unfair it was they couldn’t choose each other, that the underworld had chosen for them. That she wanted to give herself to the man she loved, not a faceless, nameless man she was “destined” for. Her eyes filled as she glanced at the bed, imagining a different scenario than the present one.

  She turned, shoving down the emotions roiling inside. Her wolf panted, wanting out to purge the emotions Kimber couldn’t control. She heard Shain walk out of the room while she fought to contain Nya, not willing to give in to the escape. Not yet. There’d be many days ahead for that.

  She wanted to feel sorry for herself tonight. Tomorrow, she’d be strong. With the strength she had left, she dominated Nya’s urgency, feeling her retreat easily, but with reluctance.

  A shaky inhale and exhale later, her nerves settled.

  The first few notes of a romantic song filled the room, drifting into the bedroom from a built-in speaker.

  She turned around to see Shain standing in the doorway.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, proverbial pieces of her heart falling to her feet.

  He moved toward her. “Come here.”

  Part of her wanted to say no, punish him, continue the fight and demand that he could do more than hold her, that their last night together should be spent as intimately as two people wanted to spend it.

  But a fight would do no good. Shain’s mind was made up.

  He held out his hand. Unable to help herself, she took it. He held her at a respectable distance, close, but not pressing.

  As they turned to the music, her pulse kicked up. The scent of him arousing her again. She closed her eyes, breathing it in, helpless against his allure. She brought her body closer to his, a whimper of despair escaping before she could stifle it in time.

  “Take the money, Kimber. I want you to. I want you to start the life you’ve been dreaming—”

  She pushed him away. He’d ruined the moment by the stale talk of cash. “I can’t do this. If I can’t have my way, you can’t have yours. I’m sorry if a dramatic ending isn’t convenient for you, but if we’re over, then I need to go.” Looking up, seeing the agony in his eyes, Kimber forced herself to remain strong. “All I wanted was one night of pretending nothing stood between us. And you couldn’t even give me that. All you could give was money. You’re right, Trevyn. You’re a selfish bastard. There’s a tiny chance I’ll be grateful you didn’t touch me tonight.” Her eyes narrowed. “But I think it’s more likely you’ll regret that you didn’t.”

  Choking back a sob, she rushed to her room and furiously packed. Half of her expected—wished—Shain would come after her, while the other half damned him if he did.

  Bag zipped, she didn’t bother taking any of the clothes she hadn’t bought herself, save for the dress she was wearing. She had no use for them anyway, they wouldn’t keep her warm at night. Tears burning, throat closing, she threw on her jacket.

  The growl from her chest vibrated her body as she jogged down the stairs, refusing to look back.

  Panting, repressing a scream of despair in the back of her throat, she got in her car and slammed the door. She gripped the steering wheel, overwhelmed, needing some kind of release, feeling as though she’d walked away from half her soul.

  Two miles down, she pulled over and put the car in park, heaving for air while her heart pounded in her chest, yearning to turn around. For what? More rejection? She climbed out of the car, barely making it around the other side before she fell to her knees, stifling Nya down.

  With her wolf urging her to release her pain, Kimber let out a gut-wrenching cry, finally allowing the tears to have their way.

  So much pain over losing someone she never had, and loving someone she just lost.

  Let her go. By the gods, let her go.

  Shain disobeyed his own demand and marched to the door after her, then stopped.

  He strode back to the French doors, flinging them open.

  Teeth down and throbbing, he paced the veranda. Was this the beginning stages of madness? Because he was about to lose it.

  He set his hands on the cool balustrade, head down in agony. The cool night was quiet, unmoving, as if every nocturnal creature stopped to witness Shain Trevyn struggle to preserve his sanity.

  It hurt now, but not for long. Right? Eventually, he’d go numb.

  There was no other option. Passionate relationships always ended badly, or they didn’t end.

  He’d hurt Kimber. Disappointed her. Pushed her away. After what she’d done for him. He could’ve made love to her. Oh gods, he would’ve. All night.

  The pain multiplied at the memory of how Kimber had looked at him when he told her it was over.

  A car’s engine roared to life in the small side lot, and headlights beamed into the backyard.

  She was leaving the villa.

  He was gutted, but not surprised. The farther away they were from each other, the better.

  He keeled over, trying to suffocate the tumultuous emotions that threatened to split his head in half.

  He’d suffered before. Many times. He knew loss.

  Physical and emotional torment? Accustomed to both. No man who’d lived as long as he had couldn’t be acquainted with such reactions.

  But the anguish he felt now? Unfamiliar. Unbearable.

  Perhaps because he’d blindsided them both. It’d happened so fast. And now she was gone.

  Good. He had a life to get back to. People to meet. Plans to make. Places to go.

  So did she.

  She might damn him now, but tomorrow she’d see the light. Literally.

  Hindsight was perfect. And yes, there were a few signs that might’ve clued him in, had he been paying attention. But he’d genuinely been shocked to learn Kimber was a virgin.

  She wanted her first to be him.

  Why?

  She would’ve hated me. Ultimately. Inevitably.

  One of two things would’ve happened:

  One, she might’ve been pleased. At first. And then she would go back to Wisconsin, meet her mate, and the regret would set in. Oh, he could imagine how deep it’d go, once she met the man she was meant for.

  Or two: Worse. She would’ve loved him.

  Women often confused sexual bliss for love after they’d been with a vampire. And so it wouldn’t have been real. Kimber would’ve kept coming back for the pleasure, declaring it love. And once they parted ways, she’d have despised him for seducing her.


  Hell, he would’ve despised himself.

  For the first time in a very long time, he’d set aside his needs and desires to take the high road.

  While it may have seemed like rejection, his decision was anything but.

  A few breaths later, he felt peace settling in. Or was it sorrow?

  He looked up at the stars, already missing her with the force of a thousand rocks on his heart.

  And then he heard it.

  A cry in the distance.

  The kind that ripped from deep within one’s soul. Somewhere beyond the property, it echoed through the trees, zigzagging through them, and shot straight to his heart like an arrow.

  He cursed, clutching his chest.

  “Kimber?”

  Squeezing his eyes shut, he pressed the heels of his hands to his ears and dropped to his knees.

  Bent over, he realized covering his ears did nothing; he could still hear her.

  He raised his face to the sky, silently begging the gods to have mercy on him.

  The only thing that silenced her cry was the torrid one of his own he released, sending resting birds flying from the trees.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Slainte!”

  Surrounded by more of his people than he could count, Shain raised his glass with his entourage, then consumed the blood in one swallow. Everyone, his inner circle, his allies, even those who envied him, had come to celebrate.

  Including Esteban, glowering with every breath he took.

  Shain’s accomplishment had blazed through vampiric hierarchy like wildfire.

  Not that he’d expected anything less.

  Tanaka’s people had handled most of the early logistics, and set in motion a series of meetings, introductions, and privileges he would eventually need to activate, once he was ready. There was no pressure. No deadlines. No demands. Any of it could take place at his preferred interval.

  After he’d broken it off with Kimber, he’d been driven home from the villa in a fog of heartbreak, fully intending to drown himself in blood and booze.

  He’d walked in his loft to find Brooks almost manically packing for him, yelling in French through his Bluetooth. When Shain asked what was going on, Brooks informed him his private plane waited to fly him to Québec. His presence was in demand and there would be no delay.

  Shain didn’t have the energy to argue. Didn’t want to think. He hoped being thrust into his world again—at a new level of privilege—would be the cure. Having every minute of the next two weeks planned out for him was welcomed, and so he got on the plane without protest.

  Hours later, he found himself on a tarmac, having barely caught any sleep before his allies greeted him at the private airport like a celebrity.

  His cell phone had buzzed nonstop with pending notifications, finally able to push through. One would’ve thought he’d been elected president. The hunger-ache that’d grown in the weeks before he met Kimber returned. Full-fledged and then some.

  He’d started to shake with need whenever he tried to rest, but he didn’t know what he needed to feel better.

  Other than time.

  He’d been thrust into a category of parties, all in his name.

  And he allowed it through the pressing exhaustion and growing hunger.

  Because constantly moving interrupted Kimber from coming to his thoughts and burrowing into his consciousness. That was when he realized there were—for now—two Shain Trevyns: the one who languished in half-rage, half-sorrow when permitted even one minute of solitude, and the one who embraced the excess and attention with style and smiles.

  It’d been ten days since that last night with her, and it already felt like a dream, fading into the background, as his previous life roared back from a flame to a bonfire.

  Why didn’t he feel as elated as he’d imagined?

  Typical brooding vampire.

  Kimber’s words and laughter from the night they met echoed in his head.

  Drunk, drained, delirious, and he still couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  “Trevyn. This way.” Markus pushed him through a curtained door, slurred something about a surprise, then forced him to sit on a chair in a room with a giant bed and wine bottles. He then slapped him on the shoulder with a grin and left.

  Damn the gods, he was tired.

  Shain's head dropped back when he heard the curtain move. “Markus, no. Call my driver.”

  “You want a ride, Mr. Trevyn? How about three?”

  Shain lolled his head upright.

  Amara pushed the curtains away and sashayed in lingerie, followed by two more women, both blonde and attractive, both wearing stockings, garter belts, and sheer bras.

  He closed his eyes.

  “Surprise,” she cooed.

  To a sane man, the “surprise” would be the ultimate fantasy come true. To Shain, she was a reminder of his old self, the one in constant conflict with his new.

  Amara went to her knees and dug her nails in his flesh, running them up his thigh. “I left Madrid early for you.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “Of course, I did. You’re the most talked-about pürblood in the underworld.” She leaned in. “I missed you.”

  The two other women kissed and caress each other on the bed.

  Uninterested, he pushed up from his chair. “Amara—”

  She pushed him back down and kissed him, hard. Her full lips, cold. At least to him.

  He stood and brought her with him. “I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood.”

  “What’s wrong? Can’t save a little for me?”

  Save what? He hadn’t touched another since Kimber. And wouldn’t anytime soon.

  One woman plucked the cork from a bottle and poured blood on her breasts, arching her back with a moan while the other blonde licked it off. The smell of the blood alone… A part of him became aroused. He knew that scent.

  Virgin’s blood.

  Insanely expensive. And they were pouring it on their bodies like water.

  Virgin. Blood.

  Kimber’s face blinded his eyes and emotions.

  Amara stepped back in between them. The women sat up, teeth bared, tracing fingertips down her arms, her flat stomach, over her La Perla bra.

  “Join us,” she invited.

  Shain’s temptation vanished.

  Virgin’s blood should never, ever be wasted. Therefore, he should partake for the sake of that alone. But he didn’t want to be touched. Didn’t want to be bitten. Didn’t want his cock sucked. Didn’t want to fuck.

  He ducked out of the room before he could see the look on her face after he said, “Another time.”

  Another Shain.

  To most of the world, magick was just a bunch of tricks performed by a master of deception. To the underworld, it was part of daily life.

  Just as there was day and night, there was light magick and dark magick, with an equal number of devotees of both. The only beings who didn’t practice magick were, amusingly enough, vampires and shifters. Everyone else—fairies, demons, witches, sorcerers, sirens, mermaids—used it at will.

  Kimber had never given thought to hiring a witch. Until now.

  Uneasy but determined, she waited in the entryway of a cottage for a woman named Una to answer the door. She’d made an appointment yesterday. Over-the-counter sleep medicine wasn’t doing it.

  Stefan waited in the car, arguing with his sister on the phone about her choice of wedding venue. He didn’t know Kimber was visiting a witch; she told him Una sold herbs. It was more or less true.

  The door opened, and a waft of cake and sugar hit Kimber’s nose. Una appeared to be in her thirties, taller than average, blonde, with pink hair extensions mixed in and brown eyes.

  “Come in,” she greeted, wiping her hands on her apron, looking her up and down. “Shifter?”

  Unfortunately. Nya snarled. Sorry girl, I didn’t mean it. I’m just so fucking tired. “Yes. You work with white magick, right?”

&nb
sp; “Candy?” she offered, ignoring her question, holding out a plastic bowl stuffed with wrapped treats of every color in the rainbow.

  “No, thanks.” Kimber sat down at the table.

  An impressively big, four-tiered cake stood half-iced in the middle.

  Una picked up a spatula, scooped up the yellow icing, and smoothed it on the cake. “Sorry, I have to finish this by three o’clock or I’m a dead witch. What brings you?”

  “I’m…having a hard time. With a break-up. I want something to help me get over it. Over him.”

  Una kept her gaze on her work, meticulous about her strokes before she replied, “Got it. How long has it been since you split?”

  Eternity. In real time? “I don’t know…a couple weeks?”

  “That’s barely a blink. You haven’t given yourself enough time yet.”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “It’s still fresh, sweetheart. Heartbreak is nuclear. Very difficult to ease. Bless your heart, you’re still processing the pain. I know every day can seem like an endless black pit of despair, but magick isn’t the cure. It’s good old-fashioned time.”

  Unacceptable. What was the benefit of magick if not to beat time? “There has to be some remedy, even to just take my mind off him temporarily. An hour. A minute. Anything. I’m desperate.”

  Una softly cursed as a bit of cake came undone from her moving the icing. “You know what they say: The fastest way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

  The witch made light of a broken heart? “You don’t understand! I have to hide how I feel every second I’m around my pack sisters. It’s unbearable. I’m screaming inside my own skin, Una. My wolf cries, won’t even shift when I ask her to. We’re both wrecked about it, and I don’t know what to do! I haven’t slept. I know it’s my fault because my heart won’t let him go. I don’t know how. Please. I’m begging you.”

  Una raised a sympathetic gaze. “All this and the shifter isn’t your true mate?” Una set down the spatula and reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “Why did you break up?”

  “He said that I could never be his because my true is out there.” When Una looked like she sided with Shain, Kimber slipped her hand out of hers with a groan. “He insisted that breaking up was best in the long run. If it was, why am I so miserable?”

 

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