Fated In Secrets (Nocturne Vampire Clan #2)

Chapter 12

12

EVANGELINE

R age simmered as I stormed across the shadowed Darkmore grounds, each step pounding my anger deeper into the lush grass. Overhead, a new moon hung like a honed dagger in the sky, casting silvery shadows across the dark gothic spires that blended into the night.

Every sound, every scent was too sharp—thanks to this unholy transformation that still felt like a raw wound in my senses. The earthy dampness of the gardens, the faint rustling of gnat wings, even the metallic tang from the arched iron gates all clawed at me, reminders of this world I’d been forced into, one where loyalty and betrayal tangled so tightly, I couldn’t see through the maze.

I hadn’t asked for this. Any of this.

I clenched my fists, a fresh surge of bitterness surging like bile in my throat.

Riordan had made me into this—this creature .

He was keeping me here, under the guise of protection , because he needed a steady supply of blood. My blood , potent enough to keep him strong.

Clearly, Riordan planned to use me to boost his already impressive magic. For all his bullshit promises, that was the only explanation that made sense.

And Malachi wanted me to steal a secret folio from the king’s safe, an act that felt as dangerous as it did impossible. I just wanted to stay alive. Yet here I was, once again a pawn in their schemes, alone beneath the night sky with nothing but my choking rage and my special blood that everyone was fighting over.

I clenched my hands, doubled over and screamed. Let my rage roar out of me, assaulting the haunting calm with a dark, aching shriek of pure pain and fury.

With the feral sound, something else rose to the surface, something dark and dangerous I hadn’t sensed in years, and I choked, my feet stumbling over themselves as I rushed down an aisle of hedges, swallowing a thick, smoky darkness that tasted like pure ozone surging up and up and up…

No. Fucking no. Not now.

I tore through the gardens until I found a quiet corner, an alcove hidden from view, where ivy and night-blooming honeysuckle crept over stone benches in pale yellow clusters. Here, the silence felt thick and watchful, almost supernatural, as if the shadows themselves held their collective breath.

I stopped, closed my eyes, loosened my clenched hands.

Swallowed down the taste of lightning, a thunderstorm churned at my center, a dark, brewing vortex channeling power through me, like I was nothing but a conduit. This was bad, so, so bad.

Years.

It had been years—two decades, actually—since I’d had one of these episodes and thought the world was ending.

Or I was dying.

Maybe this lapse in control was caused by Riordan’s cruelty, or maybe Malachi’s manipulations. Maybe I missed Blake like I missed breathing, but whatever the cause, I hunched over, arms wrapped around myself while fighting an invisible battle with a rampant power my own mother had bound inside me to keep me safe.

Lightning in a bottle , mom used to call my little spark of magic, when it was a delicate, hovering flame cupped between dimpled, chubby hands. Before that tiny spark grew big enough to be dangerous. Before she took Angel and me away from White Chapel so Silas never discovered what I was.

A hungry beast with claws and teeth, ready to rip the world apart.

I didn’t know how long it took for the episode to pass, only that it finally did.

Then I drew a shuddering breath, limped toward the nearest flat surface—a stone bench nestled in the roses. I’d rest for a minute, then find Angel. She had to know what happened.

I was almost there when I sensed something—someone—just outside my vision. A figure slipped from behind a nearby column, moving as silently as death. Tall, lean, and cloaked in darkness, he stalked toward me with a lithe, deadly grace, pale, cruel eyes glinting beneath his hood.

My breath stopped when moonlight caught his face, the ragged patchwork scars, those ghostly white eyes.

Valaine.

My mind turned into a mad scramble, wondering how he’d gotten past Nash’s soldiers, how he could be inside the walls, right in front of me . Then it didn’t matter how he’d gotten onto the Darkmore grounds, because one of his wicked, curved blades hissed free of its sheath, sharp enough to sever my head in one slice.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice like a knifepoint skating over stone. “If it isn’t Blake’s little pet. I’ve been looking for you, slayer, and here you are, all by yourself with nary a soldier in sight. Your father would be so disappointed.”

I swallowed, forcing my racing pulse to slow, honing my fear into something useful. Every nerve was on high alert, every instinct honing in on his slightest movements: the flex of his thin fingers, the glint of another dagger concealed at his hip, the barely-there brush of his boots against the grass.

But my gaze fixed on that blade, his smile twisted in a dark amusement that made my skin crawl, as I forced myself not to flinch. One split second, one blink, and he’d take me.

“You’re looking better than last time we met, Valaine.” I measured the distance between me and the pathway to the castle. Too fucking far . “How long did it take you to grow your brains back after Malachi drained them out of your skull?”

“Too long,” he replied, his smile dark and vicious. “And Malachi Draven will pay for his sins, but I’m here for you. Collum wants you brought back in one piece, he has plans for you, Silverwood. Our allies paid me handsomely to retrieve you, as you will make excellent leverage against the king.”

“Yeah, well, that’s where you’re wrong, because his majesty doesn’t give two shits about me, so you’re wasting your time.”

My hand drifted toward my dagger.

My entire life I’d been training to kill vampires, was adept at defending myself against those who were faster, stronger, and far more ruthless than I was. But my body still trembled from my little magical misfire; I hadn’t fed or slept properly in two weeks.

And this was Valaine—the sadist who’d tortured countless innocents—somehow, his existence loomed larger than reality, especially with his ghoulish appearance.

Without another word, I lunged, slicing my blade through the air. But he sidestepped my blow with a twisted smirk, catching my wrist and yanking sharply. My dagger clattered to the ground, but I struck out with my free hand, fury lending me strength as I crushed his larynx beneath my knuckles.

Pain exploded through my hand, I twisted away, and then ducked as that deadly blade whistled over my head, lungs heaving. Riordan had taken so much blood; I could barely catch my breath. My energy was already fading, I was running on sheer determination.

Valaine was faster, stronger, had the advantage of size and height.

His blows were precise and calculated, mine driven by pure, desperate instinct.

His were fast. Mine were already slowing.

For a one hopeful moment, I thought I might hold my own, driving my second blade deep into his side, a gush of warm blood coating my hand before he tossed me aside. He yanked me up off the ground and pummeled my ribs, each punishing strike sending shockwaves through my body.

“You’re stronger than you look,” he murmured with a note of admiration. “But you’ll need more than a newborn’s pitiful strength to escape me.”

I growled, delivering a hard kick to his side. For a heartbeat, I thought I might gain the upper hand. But his hand shot out fast as a snake, wrapping around my throat and slamming me back against the rough stone wall.

My vision blurred, my strength fading as his grip tightened, closing off my airway. I gasped, clawing at his ruined face, but his grip was an iron vice. He loomed closer, unholy eyes gleaming with a savage satisfaction.

“You’re coming with me, and I cannot wait for Collum’s order to start on you.” he whispered. “I’ll take you apart, slayer, piece by lovely little piece.”

The edges of my vision darkened, fingers slipping loose as my arms went numb.

But then, from nowhere, a shadow swooped down, landing behind Valaine with a force that shook the wall I was pinned against. A tall figure cloaked in shadows straightened, steel glinting in his right hand.

“Get your fucking hands off her, you piece of shit.”

Blake.

Valaine’s smirk disappeared when Blake advanced, sword raised, his shadows radiating fury. Blake’s eyes flashed—cold silver gilding the deep, warm brown—shadows pulsing around him like the night had come alive.

My mate’s emotions washed over me, furious, fierce, cataclysmic.

His magic turned the air to soup, waves of power shivering over my skin.

Valaine’s grin faltered as he sized Blake up.

The last time they’d faced each other, Blake had ended up a crushed mass of flesh and bone, but this time…whatever Valaine saw gave him pause.

“Let her go, Valaine. Let’s you and me have another go.” Blake’s voice was low and calm, every word dripping with lethal intent.

Run, Evangeline. Get into the castle and warn Riordan. Find Nash.

“I’ll kill you, like I killed your bitch of a sister.” Valaine sneered, gripping his blade tighter. “You and Riordan have already lost, might as well give up the Silverwood now and save yourself the trouble of a long and pointless war.”

Blake swung his sword, the blade cutting through the dark shadows with a hiss. “Like I said. Let’s you and me have another go, you monstrous fuck.”

In the next heartbeat, they collided—a blur of black shadows and glinting steel that moved faster than my eyes could follow. The clash of blades rang off the stone wall, loud enough I didn’t understand how soldiers didn’t come running.

Valaine fought with a vicious precision honed over centuries, his strikes meant to cripple and wound, every parry perfectly timed. But Blake—Blake was relentless, brutal, moving with the force of a storm, shadows curling up around every ruthless assault strike, every merciless blow.

Fucking run, Evie. What are you waiting for?

“I’m not leaving.” I rasped, my abused throat on fire. We can stop him, Blake. We can…

Evie, I can’t use my magic, not with you here. Get into the castle so I can finish this.

“No, I can help, I can…” I forced myself to move, scrambling in the grass for my lost dagger, pressing a hand against my cracked ribs. Pain flared with every shallow breath, but I pushed it down, searching through the grass until I touched cold steel.

Valaine couldn’t walk away—not when we had a chance to stop him.

“Evie, please .” Blake parried and Valaine spun away, coming face to face…with me.

“Surprise.” He hissed, stabbing his knife straight into my shoulder. Fiery agony seared through me as he forced the blade deeper, pushing until the point popped through my back. Bile surged up my throat, the pain so intense all I could do was let out a hiss of air.

“Evie. Fucking hell, no.” Blake’s shadows surged, then spluttered away.

Valaine was so close I made out the tiny needle holes where they’d sewed his face back together, the dark veins pulsing beneath his skin like little rivers of ink. I raised my hand and sliced my blade straight down, across Valaine’s flank, cutting through fabric and leather, cleaving a deep gash through his skin.

He gasped, knocking the knife from my hand as he stumbled back, and satisfaction pulsed through me. Blake took his chance, lunging in with a brutal kick that threw Valaine to the ground. But Valaine rolled out of reach and scrambled to his feet, his face twisting in fury.

“Think you’ve won this round? Wait until you see what’s coming next for you,” he sneered, his voice laced with malice. His eerie eyes flickered between me and Blake, calculating his odds. Then, with one last glare, he vanished, leaving a faint swirl of Blake’s shadows in his place.

Blake stayed tense, eyes scanning the darkness until it was clear Valaine was gone. Then he turned, relief softening his face as he reached for me.

Relief burst through me, that place beneath my heart heating until I couldn’t breathe. I stumbled toward him, tears prickling my eyes when his arms finally went around me. Blake was here. He’d come.

“I felt your fear, I knew you were in trouble,” he murmured, his voice tight with worry. He pressed his hand to my wound. “We should keep pressure on this…”

Then something in his gaze shifted. Those warm brown eyes darkened, his stubbled jaw tightening. His eyes dilated where they were fixed on my shoulder, where blood poured through the fabric, staining my side deep red.

He inhaled sharply, his body rigid as he edged away, hands balled at his sides.

“Evie… get away from me. Right now.” There was an edge of raw panic cutting through his hoarse voice, and I froze, pinned down by the hunger seeping into his face.

“Blake, it’s okay, you can control this.” My heart pounded as he began to shake, fists clenched, breathing uneven. “You can, I know you can.”

“You’re all I can smell.” He choked out the words, his expression tortured. “Your blood… the scent’s too strong, Evie. If you stay near me, I might—” He swallowed, his hand trembling. “Please. Go. Before I do something I’ll regret.”

He was about to lose control . The realization hit me like ice—fear and heartbreak flashing through me in equal measure. I stepped back, the tears pouring down my face now, but I couldn’t make myself leave him.

I hadn’t seen him in a week, hadn’t smelled him, touched him, kissed him, and his proximity hurt . I didn’t care if he was dangerous, I just… fuck, I need you so bad, I don’t care if you’re dangerous .

No. You have to stay back. Please, Evie.

I took another step forward. “I have to…I can’t leave you like this, Blake. I can’t .” The plea was wrung from me, like I was being twisted so tight I couldn’t breathe. “I miss you too much.”

“Evie,” he rasped, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that rooted me to the spot, cutting through my fear. “I love you. Do you understand that? I’ll figure out a way to fix this, but if you don’t get away from me right now, I will hurt you.” His voice broke, trembling with anguish. “If I hurt you, I’ll never be able to live with myself.”

That utter anguish shook me out of my daze and I forced myself to turn. Step by step, I backed away, my eyes never leaving his.

“Go,” he doubled over, his voice cracking. “Please, Evie. Don’t make me hate myself, any more than I already do.”

I turned and ran, my heart pounding as I pushed through the pain in my shoulder, my lungs barely functioning. Half of me was terrified he would follow, and the other half terrified he wouldn’t. When I reached the path back to the castle, I risked a glance over my shoulder.

He was still there, standing in the shadows, watching me go, fists clenched at his sides, fighting a battle only he could win.

I barely made it inside the castle before I collapsed. But beneath the fear and sorrow, I held onto his final words: I’ll fix this. And somehow, I knew he would.