Fated In Secrets (Nocturne Vampire Clan #2)

Chapter 39

39

EVANGELINE

“ W ait here, Benny.” I pointed to the end of a sturdy stone wall covered in new, bright green vines. “I don’t know how long I’ll be, but don’t you dare leave until I come back.”

“Yes, Miss Evangeline.” The uniformed soldier stood at rigid, uncomfortable attention, his back as stiff as a board, exactly like the entire time he’d flown me here, banding his arms loosely around me while I tried not to think of how intimately I was pressed up against a total stranger.

An awkward, uncomfortable arrangement, but necessary.

Blake would have my head if he knew what I was up to. He thought I’d gone upstairs, was safely tucked away in bed, sleeping off my injuries and exhaustion and his scolding.

And I had gone upstairs, but only to warn Angel and Bex of the recent developments.

Instead of evacuating, Bex had become my unwilling accomplice, conscripting one of her cousins—a recent inductee to the Knightsguard—into service. I’d finally convinced her to help by explaining how short and miserable our futures would be if Blake didn’t get his magic back and we lost this war.

Well, that logic, combined with Angel turning her sad, blue eyes on her, and pushing out a few, well-timed tears. In the end, Bex had caved and offered up her cousin Benedict as transportation.

Benny flew me here in the dead of night and I intended to be back in bed long before dawn. No one else—especially not Blake—knew my intentions. But Blake without his magic was like a bird without wings, and after last night…

No, this was the right move.

Raven’s Hollow was pitch dark this time of night, and I barely made out the shining glass on the greenhouse roof, cloaked behind a shadow of perpetual gloom. Everything was glamoured, but I wondered which vision was the truth?

The broken, rotting, forgotten estate?

Or the one bursting with life and light?

Now that I had some experience, I detected the shiver of magic around this place, the wrongness of the ground beneath me. Witches never picked arbitrary locations; which meant the very dirt Raven’s Hollow was built upon held some residual, hidden power, something suitably macabre for Aria’s twisted purposes.

But I wound along the stone path, keeping well off the manicured lawn this time. Somewhere close, a raven cawed, then another.

Watchdogs. Familiars, alerting her I was coming.

The big window of the kitchen glowed with the flames of a hundred candles, casting their eerie glow over Aria’s silhouette as she watched my approach, eyes gleaming, like she’d been expecting me. I sucked in a steadying breath before I stepped inside the cluttered room.

“Well, look what the proverbial cat dragged in,” she murmured approvingly, her voice as soft as silk. “You must really want Blake’s magic returned to sneak off in the middle of the night, Silverwood.”

“I do,” I replied, swallowing any hint of hesitation .

Her eyes narrowed to slits. “I take it the Nocturne king’s crowning ceremony did not go as planned, then?” She clicked her tongue. “Shame. Well laid plans and all that. If only you could see the future, am I right?”

“What will it take to get Blake’s magic back?”

I had two knives in my belt, two more in my boots, and felt woefully unprepared. I didn’t like this place. Don’t like how the magic scraped over my skin like the keen edge of a razor, much like how Aria looked at me, as if she already knew exactly how she was planning to fuck me over.

“Where is the brute? Don’t tell me you left him behind?” Her lips curved into a smile. “Probably a good idea, given how… weak he is these days. It’s hard, isn’t it, to watch someone you love become… less ?”

“Can it be done?”

“All this way and you don’t even know if it’s possible?” She snorted. “Of course, I can return his magic. I’m the most powerful witch in New York.”

“And your price?” I asked softly. “What, pray tell, is it this time? A pound of flesh? My first born? A star from the fucking sky?”

“Ah, the little slayer has teeth, does she? I only want one thing. A few drops of your blood, and I will return Blake Marten’s mighty magic back to him, and he shall be as he ever was. The two of you free to continue your…love affair.”

“A few drops of blood?” I asked slowly. “That sounds a bit… anticlimactic .”

“And yet that is all I require for such a magnanimous favor. A small vial of your blood, taken during a formal ceremony. Given freely, I might add, under no coercion.”

“I’ve never heard returning something stolen a favor , but whatever.” I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t trust her—no sane person would, but honestly, I thought she’d ask for more. “ Why would my addictive, potent, possibly dangerous blood interest a witch?”

She laughed, the low sound low skating down my spine like ice. “True, your blood is… unique. A Made vampire, a Silverwood, a touch of witch blood running in your veins—such a mixture isn’t something we see every day. Since I’m drawn to the strange and extraordinary, I’d like to examine the qualities that make the Silverwood heir so…unusual.”

My stomach tightened. I’d known from the onset this deal would cost me, but I’d come anyway. I clenched my fists, debating my options.

None.

I had no room to bargain, no advantage to exploit.

I either agreed to this deal or Blake remained magicless, and when Collum gathered the royal houses behind him and went to war, my mate would be on the front lines, the first to fall. I was the only one who could give him a fighting chance.

I could save him. And no price was too high.

“Fine,” I said. “So long as Blake gets his magic back.” The air in the kitchen warmed, matching the greed glowing in Aria’s gaze, my skin crawling at what I was about to do.

“Oh, he’ll be made whole, I’ll make sure of that.” She murmured, smiling wolfishly, the witch so sure she had the upper hand she was already celebrating. A little niggle of doubt wormed its way into my thoughts.

If she was so fucking good, then why were over fifty attackers and four revenants able to waltz through her impenetrable wards with nary a warning to Nash or Blake ?

How in the fuck had this become my only option?

Sneaking around in the middle of the night, making midnight bargains with a witch?

I’d been raised to distrust them, trained to detect their lies, only to discover…their blood ran in my veins. So why in the hell did Raven’s Hollow give me the creeps? If anything, the witch magic here should feel more…familiar.

Blood was power , Uncle Alistair had always preached.

But a few drops…what could Aria do with such a small amount? How much damage could she possibly wreak, when this would restore Blake’s former power and give us an edge in this coming war?

“You will restore Blake’s magic, exactly as it was previously, with no modifications, changes or reductions. You will not harm him, or me, or anyone else in the process. You will take nothing in return, and once you are finished, I will give you a vial of my blood, but only after you’ve kept your word.”

“Alistair taught you well.” Her eyes gleamed with malice. “I agree to your terms, and I will add one more,” she purred. “The ritual will be held on neutral ground, and Blake will be present. I want him to know exactly what you’re willing to sacrifice for him.”

My heart stilled. She wanted him to witness this?

“Why?” I demanded. “Can’t you just do this now?”

She shook her head, her expression coldly amused. “That wasn’t the deal. A spell like this requires intention from each party—both the giver and the receiver. Blake must be present. If you want his magic restored, he’ll need to be a willing participant.”

My pulse hammered at the thought of facing Blake during this. He’d be furious, he might even try to stop it. But Aria was smart. She knew she had the upper hand and she was making me drag him into this twisted pact to show me how powerless I was.

“Fine,” I agreed, trying to keep my voice steady. “Tell me where and when. ”

Her smile was wide and predatory, delighted. “I’ll send word before nightfall tomorrow. Be ready. Oh and, Silverwood, there is one more thing. I don’t want you backing out, so I’d like this signed in ink.”

“Ink?” I asked, brow wrinkling. “Like a contract?”

“Something like that, yes. Hold out your hand.”

I held out my hand and something ice cold touched the inside of my wrist. When I slapped my hand over the frozen spot, there was a small mark there, a circle with a series of four lines in the center.

“There. It’s done. See you when the sun goes down.”

I headed back to poor Benny, feeling as though I’d sealed my fate with the burning mark etched onto my skin—but the decision was made.

For Blake, I would finish this—no matter the cost.

I returned to my room to find Blake pacing in front of my cold fireplace, his brow furrowed with worry as he tracked up and down the path worn in my rug beneath his heavy boots.

“I came up to check on you, and imagine my surprise when I found your bed empty. Again, Evie. Again , after you promised you wouldn’t leave.” He gestured towards the rumbled covers.

“Where were you?” I winced, because there was a very long line of ignored texts and voicemails from this past half hour. I was about to explain when he erupted.

“I thought you’d been fucking kidnapped, Evangeline. I thought fucking Valaine came back and took you . Do you have any idea what I’ve gone through, imagining all the ways he was hurting you? Trying to locate you through our bond, only to hit a dead end?”

I swallowed. The witch magic around Aria’s house must be impenetrable, something I should have considered.

I’d made sure he and Riordan were occupied—organizing new patrols with Nash—before Benny whisked me away. I’d barely been gone an hour, never thought Blake would look for me, not when the world was falling apart.

“I’ll ask one last time. Where were you ?” The desperation in his eyes turned wild, tension rippling through his demand. “And you’d best not lie, because I warn you, I’m hanging on to my sanity by a fucking thread.”

With my heart hammering like a caged bird, I told him everything.

The deal with Aria, how she’d send word, the price of our bargain.

“I’m sorry, but,” I said, stepping toward him, willing him to understand. “This is the only way. We’ll do the ritual, and she’ll give back your magic. We lost everything tonight. Everything . Our allies are gone, the castle was invaded, we’re alone. You need your magic to protect Riordan.”

We all needed protecting right now.

Me, my sister and everyone else who couldn’t defend themselves against what was coming.

Something flickered across his face, a pinch of guilt, before he shook his head. “Fuck. That’s why you went tonight? Because you believe we have no allies left?”

“We don’t.” I spread my hands pleadingly. “I saw the ravens come, Nash said Houses Hawksmere, Valarian and Ebonshade were negating their oaths of loyalty. Riordan said…” I swallowed hard. “He was sending me and Angel aw ay, but I don’t even know where. I was…” I bit my lips, “ scared .”

“ Fuck .” He roared, the curse bouncing off the vaulted ceiling.

“I don’t have to leave. Once you have your magic back, we can fight.” Resolve settled into me like the cold water at the bottom of a well. “You and Riordan and me…we’ll fight and we’ll start over, maybe find new allies, but with your magic back, we have a chance.”

“Goddamn it, Evie. I wish I could have…” Anguish shone on his handsome face as he looked down at me, a protest on his lips, but I stopped him.

“This is the only way. I hate to wait until tonight, but Aria set the schedule, not me. You’ll get your magic back,” my smile turned cold, “and then we’ll take the offensive, and stop waiting for those bastards to come to us.”

His expression was anguished. “Evie, there’s something I have to explain…”

“There’s nothing you could have said to stop me, Blake,” I whispered, reaching up to touch his face. “What harm can she do with one vial of my blood, anyway?” I searched his face, reading everything there—guilt, regret, anger—before he slumped, resting his cheek in my palm.

“I wish you would have talked to me. I wish…” He shook his head sadly, “Never mind, it’s too late now. You know better than anyone that with witches, it’s never that simple.” His jaw clenched, his hand covering mine where it rested on his cheek. “Aria will fuck us over.”

“She definitely will try.” I dropped my voice. Even though we were alone, the acoustics in this godforsaken castle meant every whisper carried. “She either let our enemies through the outer ward tonight, or she’s shit at magic, and somehow, I doubt she’s a shit witch. ”

His lips quirked. “No, Aria is definitely not a shit witch. But, for about a hundred different reasons, I won’t let you go through with this. I can’t tell you everything…but I’m calling off the ritual.”

“We can’t.”

“Oh, we fucking can.” Blake’s face darkened, and even without his magic, the air in the room darkened. “I’ll make a personal visit and tell her myself. I’ll actually enjoy that.”

“No, I mean, we can’t call off the ritual.” I hesitated, then showed him my wrist. If I thought I’d seen Blake Marten pissed before, I was wrong.

“What the fuck, Evie? That’s a fucking witch mark .”

“Well, yeah, when she said there’d be ink, I thought she’d hand me a fucking pen, not tattoo some contract on my skin.”

“Witch marks are a magical contract made between two willing participants.” Blake grew paler as he inspected the mark, touched it, then yanked his hand back as if he’d been burned. “If you break the contract, that mark is imbued with poison that will kill you.”

Well fuck . That sounded exactly like the kind of shitty thing Aria would do.

“At least I made a full proof deal, one even she can’t wiggle out of.”

He shook his head, “This is a mistake,” he said softly. “I only wish…” He swallowed, then reeled me closer. “I only wish you would have asked me first, Evie. If anything goes wrong, I won’t?—”

“Nothing will go wrong,” I interrupted, laying my head against his chest, his heart beating like an angry war drum. “We’ll do the ritual, she’ll give you back your magic with no tricks or games, she takes her blood sample or whatever, and then this is over. ”

Still, as I spoke, a strange, dark chill curled in the pit of my stomach. I brushed the feeling aside. This was no time for fear. We had to be bold and make sacrifices. Blake and Riordan had sacrificed, it was time I did, too.

“Don’t be angry. I’m sorry.” I nibbled at his jaw, the stubble tickling my lips. “ I am . I’m not saying I wouldn’t make the same trade, but I’d…be smarter about it, maybe.” This time I ran my fingers along his hardening cock, reveling in how he shuddered against me.

“You are being very naughty.” Blake’s hand tightened on the small of my back, yanking me close enough to grind his erection against my pussy. “But so irresistible. Despite going behind my back. And making a dangerous trade, Evangeline.” His hand drifted lower until he cupped my ass. “I think tonight is the night I owe you that spanking.”

Heat spilled through me like lava, seeping into every corner, igniting guilt and fear into lust for this male holding me so commandingly.

“A spanking, huh?” I wound my fingers tighter into his jacket. “Like…with your hand? Or something else?”

Blake’s eyebrows went up, then he was backing me toward the bed, his voice two octaves lower when he murmured, “my hand, why?”

“Just asking. And what, exactly, will that teach me?” I licked my lips as we kept moving, his hand kneading my ass. “To be…more obedient? To…listen?”

“Somehow, I doubt me spanking you will teach you either of those things, however…” Blake’s eyes were the color of strong coffee when the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed. “Seeing my handprints on your perfect white skin while I fuck you from behind…”

His smile was wicked. “Yes. I would very much like that, after you snuck around behind my back, then planned to keep tonight a secret. Now I’m thinking you definitely deserve to be punished.”

Blake pinched my chin, his lips touching mine. “Now take your clothes off and get on the bed, Evangeline. Right the fuck now.” That stern command wrecked me, reached down and yanked up a shudder of pure pleasure from deep inside me.

Two minutes later I was naked, bent over the bed on my belly, quivering with anticipation, while Blake tied my hands behind my back with the silk tie from my robe.

“So beautiful. So very, very bad.”

He ran his hand down my back, over the curve of my ass, the callouses on his palm rougher than usual before he stepped away. Clothing rustled behind me and I turned my head, only to be stopped by Blake’s gruff, “eyes forward mate, until I tell you otherwise.”

Another one of those bone-deep shivers grated through me. I liked his commander’s voice, the no-nonsense tone, the unflinching dominance that made my stomach clench in anticipation of something much, much darker.

And this time, when his hand followed the lines of my body, I bit my lips to keep from moaning, so wet between my thighs I was slippery, especially when he tugged my legs further apart, spreading me wide as he made an approving sound.

“So wet for me already.” His fingers traced the outside of my pussy, coasting along my folds. “So needy. But so very, very bad. Tell me you’re bad, Evangeline. Say you’re a bad girl.”

“I’m a bad girl.” I repeated, even though it was hard to remember why, when I was spread out like this, his fingers teasing my entrance, poised on the edge of the unknown. Because something beckoned right now, something dark and filthy and new that promised…well, I didn’t know what, but…

Crack.

My entire body arced up off the bed in a taut line of outrage and blazing pain, breaths coming fast as Blake ran that rough palm over the heated place. And the longer he rubbed, the deeper that heat sunk in, settling between my legs like a glowing fire.

Crack, crack, crack.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, torn between the fiery pain and hyperaware of all the places Blake touched me, the way the bedcover ground against my hard nipples.

Crack …more of that slow, delicious rubbing, then his fingers coasted around my entrance, teasing lightly as I moaned, wiggling my hips to coax him deeper. “None of that, mate, you’re being punished, remember?”

Crack , and he plunged one finger in, this time with a sharp hiss of approval, fucking me with short, brutal strokes before he pressed his hand to the small of my back and spanked me again, until my hips were grinding against the bed, grinding to find some end to this spiraling heat, this tug of war between pain and pleasure.

I was hyper sensitive to every callous on his palm, the heated handprints on my skin, the strange awareness that pain was somehow leashed to pleasure and Blake knew my body well enough to make that connection.

I moaned as he caressed me, rubbing over my heated flesh, wondering what I must look like to him, with big, red palm prints on my white skin, spread out like this at his mercy, a quivering, needy mess of want and ache.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” A zipper hissed and he dumped me on my belly, then pushed between my legs, forcing me wider with his hips until the crown of his cock nudged at my swollen, drenched pussy before shunting himself inside in a long, claiming thrust that sent his name tumbling from my lips.

“That’s right, say my name, Evangeline. Mine . You fucking belong to me.”

He thrust again, his hips bumping me farther onto the bed, my cheek rubbing against the covers with every bruising stroke. Blake grunted, hips crashing ruthlessly into mine, my eyes fluttering closed as my mate, unleashed and wild, rode me like he would never get enough.

“Mine to love. Mine to spank. Mine to fuck. Mine to tease and lick and bite, any way I want.”

His cock speared into me, rubbing along my inner walls, the wide tip hitting my womb when he angled his hips just right, his palms smoothing over the marks I knew were turning darker, redder, marks he’d put on my body.

Marks I’d wanted him to put there.

Shameless need and fever-soaked hunger tangled into a knot of sweaty coiled pressure and this is my mate inside me, and I love him and he’s about to spill into me…and I love him, I love him, I love him…

I sundered apart so fast I couldn’t make a sound, my core clenching around Blake so tight I felt every vein, every pulse of his cock inside me. The cresting sensation was like the fire on my skin, a wash of flame and spark roaring until my ears hollowed out and Blake was spilling himself inside me in great, warm spurts as he groaned out my name, over and over.