Fated In Secrets (Nocturne Vampire Clan #2)

Chapter 55

55

EVANGELINE

M y goosepebbled skin stung as I scrubbed my hands up and down my arms, heart hammering in my chest, loud enough everyone in the entire castle to hear every frantic thud.

I can do this.

I have to do this.

We don’t have another choice.

Repeating the words only made me feel incrementally better, my mind wrapped in a layer of Blake’s smothering magic, a pitiful barrier against an Elder older than time. I had one silver knife hidden in my right boot, too small to be detected, too pitiful to do much good, as Blake had reminded me numerous times.

My mate was furious with me, but even Fiona agreed, time was running out.

We didn’t have time to be cautious.

I kept my movements loose as I rounded the corner of the palace hallway, my footsteps light against the stone floor. The air here was always heavier, colder, like the walls themselves held eons of secrets. I mentally cataloged Fiona’s every instruction, heading toward Riordan’s study, when I ran straight into him.

“Riordan.”

He leaned against a pillar, head bowed, tangled dark hair falling over his face. For a second, I thought he hadn’t heard me, but then his eyes—redder than I remembered—flicked up to capture mine in that consuming gaze.

My breath caught. He looked... awful . His regal face was a gaunt caricature, the hollows of his cheeks more pronounced than ever. His skin had taken on an ashen quality, dark shadows circled his eyes, his lips were bloodless white.

Every angle of him was carved out, like he’d been gutted from the inside, or had stopped fighting all together.

There was nothing of the old Riordan left. All I saw was Ravok and in that second, my courage guttered, along with the air in my lungs.

“Evangeline,” his voice was as empty as his face, echoing past me down the hallway. There was an agonizing pause when our eyes met, and I swallowed, wondering if he’d rip into my thoughts and our scheming would be for nothing.

But he just waited, hands hanging loose, drawing one long, shuddering breath after another.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, stepping closer before he could stop me. “You look—” I faltered, unwilling to say the truth aloud.

Like you’re being eaten alive.

He straightened, attempting to pull himself together, but even that effort seemed to cost him. “I’m fine,” he said, though his body betrayed him, swaying slightly before he caught himself on the pillar.

“Don’t lie to me,” I said softly, my heart breaking. This was still Riordan, who told me he couldn’t love me. Riordan, who was willing to give me up in exchange for a kingdom.

He opened his mouth to reply, but I held up a hand to stop him. I already knew.

Riordan was nearly done, perhaps ready to give up. Hold on. Just a little longer. We’re coming. Which was foolish, because he couldn’t hear me, and if Ravok did, he’d tear my throat out before I managed to draw my knife.

“Let me help you.” I stepped closer, close enough to catch a whiff of that strange, cruel scent, not so much as a hint of coffee or cinnamon left. “I can make you feel better, make you stronger.” I laid my hand on his arm, his skin cold beneath my touch.

His jaw tightened. “You can’t.”

“I can,” I insisted, his muscles tensing beneath my touch, but he didn’t pull away. “Let me feed you, Rohr. You need strength to fight him. Take whatever you need from me.”

A dangerous offer, but I had to tempt them both. Riordan wouldn’t want to put me in danger, while Ravok would sense a trap. I had to make myself irresistible. This had to be convincing, so convincing there was no room for doubt.

Need had to override logic, and the only way to do that was to appeal to their combined hunger.

His eyes darkened until there was nothing left in his eyes except that endless blackness, and for a moment, I couldn’t tell if it was Riordan looking at me or Ravok, or some mix of the two.

“Don’t say that,” he said, his voice a low growl. “You don’t understand what you’re offering.”

“Yes, I do.” I took a steadying breath. “You don’t have to fight him alone, Rohr. My blood is strong, it will help you fight a little longer. If you don’t feed, your stubbornness will cost you.”

I pressed the length of my body against him, pulling my hair back with my other hand.

His red-tinged gaze dropped to my neck, a war raging within him. He wanted to refuse—but his hunger was screaming to be sated. Riordan wanted to protect me, but Ravok stamped that emotion out, too. I didn’t give him time to argue.

I tilted my head, exposing the side of my neck. “Please,” I whispered. “You need this. I need this.” I closed my eyes and prayed I wasn’t about to die. “I miss your teeth in me, Rohr. I miss your cock. I want things to be like they were, I want to feel your hands on my body.”

I knew I’d won when his hands closed around my waist. Fear pushed my racing pulse higher, but my body purred beneath his touch, palms spanning the small of my back as he ground his erection into my stomach.

“Yes, like that. I want your lips on my skin and your fangs in my vein and I want to be at your mercy. I want everything from you.” My fingers skimmed up his chest, captured his face between my palms. He let out a shuddering breath, his resolve breaking.

“I hate that I need this so badly,” he murmured, voice thick with self-loathing. “I hate all of this, Evie.”

“I don’t,” I said, drinking in the sensation of his hot breath skating over my neck. He struck fast, the sharp prick of pain replaced by that thick, euphoric warmth spreading through my body like drugging fire.

This part didn’t feel any different than before—basic chemistry, perhaps—his hard body crushed against mine, hands gripping my ass as he latched onto my throat, his soft lips a direct contrast to the pinch of those fangs holding me in place.

At first, the act was controlled. Every pull was gentle, deliberate, as though he was holding himself back. The tension in his body eased slightly, and I sensed the weight of his exhaustion lifting, the hum of fresh power coursing through his arms, his torso, his thighs, crushed against me .

Then something shifted.

A low growl rumbled in his throat and his grip on my shoulders became vice-like. The careful rhythm of his feeding dissolved into something wild, ravenous, almost vicious. My knees buckled, and he caught me, but not gently. His arms became a cage, trapping me in place as he fed with a ferocity that filled me with raw, aching fear.

“Riordan,” I shoved at his shoulder, but my hands were too weak, my voice a shadowy whisper against his primal growling.

Pain flared when those fangs sank deeper, as I struggled weakly, panic clawing at my chest as he ravaged my neck. “Riordan, please?—”

His head snapped up, red-tinged eyes blazing, face twisted with hunger and fury, and for a terrifying moment, I didn’t recognize him. Ravok stared out of that familiar face, ravenous and evil and unstoppable.

Then, for an instant, the red faded away, replaced by navy blue.

“Silver,” Riordan rasped, his voice a fractured slice of pain, “What have you done?”

Then he slumped into my arms, inky hair spilling over my shoulder, my knees slowly bending as his weight crushed me down, down, down to the stone floor, until we lay in a tangle of blood-soaked misery.

“Rohr?” I whispered, my vision darkening at the edges as crippling weakness overtook me. I couldn’t feel my limbs, my breaths came slow and halting, like I’d forgotten how to draw air. The room tilted, and I barely registered the footsteps pounding toward us.

Riordan never answered. He lay unconscious in my arms, his breathing shallow. His arms slipped off my waist, blank eyes staring, bloodstained mouth open .

“Evie…fuck, help her, Fiona, she’s bleeding badly.” Blake’s voice was sharp with worry as he knelt beside me, hands pressing firmly against my throat. All I smelled was blood, but couldn’t feel anything but the cold from the floor seeping into my bones.

“Seal her up before she bleeds out.” A female voice ordered, then something warm and wet replaced Blake’s hands. His tongue . He lapped and lapped, then, with a shuddering sigh, pulled away.

“He did a number on her throat, the fucking animal .”

“Move so I can give her the antidote.” Fiona’s tone was brisk and businesslike as something rustled beside my head. “Hold her steady.”

I forced my eyes open enough to see her crouched over me, holding a vial of pale liquid. Something cold pressed against my lips and I swallowed reflexively, the bitter liquid burning a trail of sourness down my throat.

Immediately, the antidote counteracted the poison I’d swallowed earlier. The sedative currently churning through Riordan’s veins. The fog began to lift, my heart sped up, leaving my body heavy and sluggish.

“You did well,” Fiona said, crouching beside me. Her eyes flicked to Riordan’s still form. “He’ll be unconscious for a few hours, maybe more. We can begin.”

Blake’s expression was grim as he eased me to a sitting position, propping me against the wall. “That was reckless, Evangeline. We decided you’d use your wrist, not your throat. He almost?—”

“I had to,” I murmured, my voice barely audible. “Had to get him to trust me. That was the only way.”

Blake’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue.

“Get her out of here,” Fiona said, already moving toward Riordan. “She’s done enough. ”

“No,” I croaked, trying to push myself up. “I’m staying.”

Blake firmly pressed me back in place. “Not this time, Evie. You need time for the antidote to work. I’m putting you in bed to rest.” His tone didn’t brook any disagreement, and I couldn’t get off this floor without his help.

Then my own body betrayed me, exhaustion pulling me under despite my protests. As my eyes closed, the last thing I saw was Fiona Drakon picking up Riordan by the heels and dragging him away.

Blake’s arms tightened around me, then darkness carried me off, right behind him.