Heat of the Everflame (The Kindred’s Curse Saga #3)

Chapter 63

Chapter

Sixty-Three

I stumbled on Luther by accident, leaning against a nearby tree. Perhaps I was lucky, or perhaps his heart had drawn me toward him, knowing my injured soul needed the balm of his touch.

He straightened as I approached, his brow creasing with worry. “What happened?”

I grabbed his hand and kept walking without a word, tugging him further into the darkness until I was certain we were out of earshot and out of sight.

“I can’t tell you what she said,” I gritted out. “I promised her I’d keep it to myself.”

“I understand.”

“That’s it?” I snapped. “You’re not mad?”

He frowned. “Should I be mad?”

“We’re supposed to be honest. Tell each other everything.” I scowled. “Isn’t that what real love is all about?”

“No couple tells each other everything. I know you wouldn’t keep something from me if it wasn’t important.” He brushed my hair away from my face, then dragged me closer. “My love for you is real love, Diem. No secret you keep is going to change that.”

I huffed, equal parts cranky and swooning. “Stop being sweet. I’m trying to be angry over here.”

His lips twitched as he fought his smile. “Very well. What would you like me to do instead?”

“Distract me.” I fisted my hands in his sweater and arched my neck toward him. “Make me forget everything but you.”

“Gladly,” he rumbled.

The air rushed from my lungs as he crushed me back against a tree, his mouth capturing mine and forcing me to breathe him in. All my angry thoughts turned liquid, carried away by the tide of desire.

I shivered with pleasure as the pressure of his body filled in all my curves and hollows. My hands tore at him with a desperate kind of urgency, my nails raking over his chest, his back, his neck. I wanted, needed , to feel him everywhere, needed the searing touch of his skin to burn through my pain.

I gasped as he broke the kiss and nipped at my lip, my senses held captive by the sharpness of his teeth in my flesh. His hand slipped beneath my pants, and he rumbled with approval at the hot wetness he found waiting between my thighs.

“Are you sufficiently distracted?” he teased as his fingers teased me, luring my pleasure to the surface.

“You can do better,” I purred, my husky voice and writhing body giving away my lie.

He growled at the challenge. His fingers plunged in without warning and dragged a loud moan from my throat. His other hand clamped across my mouth as he smirked. “Careful. There’s all kinds of dangerous beasts in this forest. Although...” He hooked a finger inside me to knead that hidden, sensitive spot, and my back arched as my grip on him turned bruising. “...I caught the most dangerous beast of them all.”

His mouth lowered to my shoulder and scored a sizzling hot trail up the column of my throat. With every muffled cry, his fingers pushed harder, deeper, and simmering energy built in my core.

I fought the looming cliff of release with everything I had. I wanted the tension, the unbearable pressure, the feeling like I might implode. I relished the way my mind clouded and I felt his touch and nothing more. The pain of the buildup was so much more enticing than the pleasure of letting go—because that would mean coming back down to earth, where all my troubles lie in wait.

Luther knew it, too. Every time I clenched around him, my thighs squeezing in trembling protest, his movements would slow just long enough to let my pleasure recede, keeping me permanently wobbling on that perfect, excruciating edge.

“Distracted now?” he asked. His face was alight with a thrill I’d only ever seen from him in battle.

I pulled his hand from my mouth down to my neck, curving his fingers around my throat. His thumb brushed over my pulse where it throbbed against my skin, and his eyes flared with a predatory gleam.

“Not yet,” I taunted. My hands dropped to his waist and fumbled with the clasp of his trousers. “Maybe I need to take matters into my own hands.”

My fingers curled around his cock, and his grip on me twitched. His hips ground forward, urging me on.

Ceding to his control of my body in Umbros had been bliss, but demanding the same from him now was an exhilaration like no other. When his gaze turned glassy and his words devolved to quiet grunts, I felt utterly invincible. This powerful, intimidating man, this force of nature, this fearsome warrior—reduced to a panting, speechless beast by just my touch.

I smirked at my triumph, and his expression turned savage. The haze of lust cleared from his eyes, and his fingers resumed their torture, teasing me with gentle circles before pumping in deep, aggressive strokes.

Our hips rocked against each other’s hands as our desire pulsed in matching rhythm. We smothered our moans in a brawl of a kiss that demanded a surrender neither of us would give. Release edged nearer, and we were both too stubborn to stop.

“I want more than your hand,” I pleaded breathily.

“Not like this. Not against a tree.” His tone was gruff, but his resolve wavered. “Not the first time.”

My head fell back with a groan. “I grew up in a forest, Luther. All my first times were against a tree.”

My breath caught as his hold on my neck slid higher, taking me by the jaw and forcing my gaze to his. “I am not the men you’re used to,” he snapped. “And I refuse to be just another lover to you.”

I pulled his hand away, then laid a kiss, delicate and feather-light, on his scar where it plunged down his neck. “You’re not just another anything to me.”

He let out a deep, satisfied rumble. “I’ll be your distraction, if that’s what you need. But mark my words, Diem Bellator...” He pushed another finger inside of me, and I cried out at the exquisite fullness. “This is just a taste of what I have planned for you. Our night is coming, and when it does, I’ll be the last first time you ever have.”

His voice was rough, all fire and lust and heady promise, but the emotion behind it shone bright in his eyes. It hit me with an unexpected flash of clarity. I hadn’t needed a distraction from my problems—I’d needed a reminder I wasn’t facing them alone.

I’d hated Luther, I’d run from him, I’d shielded my heart and built walls that I warned him might never come down, and he’d never swayed an inch. He was steady and unyielding, the island of calm in my tumultuous sea.

“ Luther .”

His name poured out like a breathless confession, representing so much I wanted to say but couldn’t put into words. He kissed me—this one sweet and tender, full of his promise that, whatever I felt, he felt it, too.

My restraint crumbled. The pressure became a new kind of exhilaration, because I was no longer afraid of letting go.

His cock thickened in my hand as his release grew as imminent as mine. My legs began to tremble, pleasure overwhelming every sense. I buried my head in the crook of his neck as the urge to scream his name hovered on my tongue. My core was throbbing, my skin prickling, my body melting. We were close, so close . One more stroke, and—

“ Get the hell away from her! ”

A blur of motion flew past my face, and a harsh rush of cold air replaced the warmth of his body. I blinked in confusion as my mind floundered to make sense of the sudden change—only to find my mother clutching a blade and looking ready to kill.

“You bastard .” Her face was red, her body quaking. “This is how you take your revenge, by defiling my daughter?”

Luther clumsily tucked himself away and straightened his clothes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Auralie. This isn’t about you.”

“Liar,” she seethed. “I knew you were ruthless, but I never imagined you’d stoop so low.”

The lingering emotion on his face rapidly froze to a hard, glacial scowl.

“Mother, stop,” I begged. “I don’t know what you think this is, but—”

“I’ll murder you for this,” she hissed. She lunged toward Luther, and I threw myself in her path.

“ Diem! ” Luther shouted, half fury, half panic. His shield shimmered into place around me a second before my mother’s blade crashed against its edge.

She sucked in a breath as she realized what she’d almost done. “Diem, get away from him. He’s not the man you think he is.”

“Mother, please listen—”

“He wants to get back at me, and he’s using you to do it.”

“What kind of monster do you think I am?” Luther asked, his tone dripping with disgust.

“The kind of monster who’s never had a problem threatening my family to keep me in line,” she spat.

“The Blessed Mother herself couldn’t keep you in line,” he yelled back. “You always knew my threats were empty. You told me so every chance you got.”

I pushed through his shield, light flaring off my skin as his magic absorbed into mine. I put my hand over hers on the knife’s hilt and pushed it down. “Mother, we need to talk. There’s much you don’t know.”

“I know enough. He’s cruel. He’s merciless.”

I sighed. “He’s neither of those things.”

“He’s going to hurt you. He—”

“ I love him .”

She stopped. The knife slipped from her hand and tumbled to the ground.

“No.” She shook her head. “No. You can’t.”

“I can, and I do.”

“But... what about Henri? I thought you two...”

I flinched. “Our friendship is over.”

“How? You’ve always been inseparable.”

“It was his choice as much as mine,” I said bitterly.

She balked. “That’s impossible. Henri’s been in love with you for years.”

Her words felt like a fist to my gut. “He was in love with mortal Diem. We were always doomed.” I shot her a scathing look. “And you were cruel to let us grow so close, knowing the truth of what I am.”

Guilt flitted over her features before disappearing behind a scowl. “That doesn’t have to divide you. It would be... difficult, but if you love each other—”

“We don’t,” I snapped. “But remember you said that when you talk to your son.”

“Teller?” Her head cocked. “What does he—”

“This is about me and Luther.” I set my hands on her shoulders, letting her see the truth of my words in my gaze. “Believe me, it took him a long time to earn my trust. I put him through hell and back for months, but once I saw who he really is...” My chest warmed at the depths of my affection. “He’s so kind and thoughtful, and he’s entirely selfless. He’s more loyal to me than I deserve. He challenges me without trying to change me, and he sees me in a way no one ever has. When I’m with him, I feel safe and cherished and...” I glanced at him, surprised to find his mask down, his feelings for me laid bare on his face. “...and loved. He makes me feel loved .” I looked back at her. “And I love him, too.”

“Your daughter is everything to me, Auralie,” Luther said quietly. “All that I am, it belongs to her.”

Her brows dipped. She studied my face, then his, looking like she was scouring for any hint of a lie or exaggeration. She was silent for a very long time, then her shoulders fell, the fight seeming to go out of her in a rush.

“Be happy for me,” I pleaded. “I finally found a man worthy of my heart.”

“My sweet daughter.” Her eyes closed briefly. When they reopened, they gleamed with anguish. “This is so much worse than I thought.”

I frowned. “What?”

“He’s not using you to get to me. He’s using you to get to the throne.”

“ What? ” Luther and I said in unison.

“Isn’t it obvious? He’s made you fall in love with him so you’ll make him King Consort. He’s doing whatever it takes to hold on to power.”

The patronizing pity on her face set me off. I jerked out of her reach. “This is ridiculous.”

“He admitted as much on the bridge in Montios. He said you stole the Crown from him.”

I groaned. “By the Undying Fire, we were joking .”

“You weren’t looking at him, Diem. I saw his face light up when you offered to make him a king. That’s exactly what he wants.”

“It’s not the throne—” Luther’s jaw snapped as he cut himself off.

“You tried to fight her at the Challenging, didn’t you?” she shot back. “You wanted to kill her so you could take it.”

“Gods, Mother, he didn’t want to kill me, he wanted to die for me,” I said, throwing up my hands.

“I wouldn’t take Diem’s life even if the Blessed Mother herself demanded it,” he muttered.

She let out a long, exasperated breath. “Diem, I don’t doubt your feelings are real. You’ve always seen the best in people, and I know how convincing the Prince can be.”

I laughed, harsh and bitter. “You know, there was a time when I was jealous of the work you did together. I thought you knew him even better than I did. But after all those years, you don’t know him at all.”

I turned my back on her and walked to his side, taking his hand. “I’m sorry,” I murmured to him.

“It doesn’t matter. You and I know the truth.” His features were hard, but I couldn’t miss the shadow of disappointment. He might never admit it, but I suspected he’d hoped to become as much a part of my family as I’d become of his. I’d seen it in the way he treated my father and Teller, and even, despite their tension, in the way he’d treated my mother.

A fiercely protective instinct flared hot in my blood. “It does matter.” I glared at her over my shoulder. “This is the man I’ve chosen. The man I want to spend my life with.” His fingers tightened around mine at my admission, and though my heart quivered with a wild, scared energy, I didn’t regret it for a second. “You and Father chose to leave your past and focus on your future—well, Luther is my future. And if you won’t accept him, you won’t be a part of it.”

She recoiled. “I am your mother .”

Angry, vicious words fought to break free, and I ground my teeth to hold them in.

“I know we have things to work through, but we’re family,” she said. “Family always comes first.”

My nails dug into Luther’s skin as I squeezed my fraying patience into his hand and bit back my thoughts.

She crossed her arms. “I’m only trying to look out for you. It’s my job to protect you.”

My temper shattered.

“ And you failed! ” I shouted back.

Her face dropped. “Diem—”

I whipped to face her. “You built a house of lies around us, then you lit the fuse and walked away. When it all exploded, I had to pick up the pieces, even though I was completely falling apart. You have no idea how dark things got. The choices I had to make.” Hot, angry tears sprung to my eyes at the memory of the armory attack—how I’d surrendered to my shame and welcomed a fiery end. “The choices I almost made. Choices I almost didn’t come back from.”

Her expression took on a horrified kind of sorrow. “I had no idea...”

“Your secrets put me in danger a hundred times over. Not just me—Teller and Father, too. If I’d known about my magic, if I’d taken the years to train... maybe I could have saved him.” My voice broke. “Maybe he wouldn’t be dead because of me.”

“Diem,” Luther said softly, looking pained. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“Don’t,” I warned him. “I know you blame yourself for it just as much as I do. So does Teller, for not being home when it happened. Father’s death left scars on us all.” I glared at her. “Meanwhile, you were off planting bombs for the Guardians.”

She nodded as her own tears began to fall. “You’re right. I should have been there.”

“But you weren’t. Teller and I lost everything. Everything . Father was gone, our home was gone, our lives were in chaos. All we had was each other, and I could barely give him that. I was broken. So fucking broken, in every possible way. We needed answers. We needed love and guidance. We needed our gods-damned mother . And you just... weren’t there. So don’t you dare tell me that family comes first. You put the Guardians first—and your family paid the price.”

She clutched at her heart like my words had carved a bodily wound, her wet cheeks gleaming in the moonlight. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I’d come home in a month, and everything would be the same.” She buried her face in her hands and choked out a sob. “Gods, what have I done?”

As angry as I was, seeing her hurting brought no joy, no vindication. This wasn’t a fight to be won. These were open wounds that needed cleaning, tending, and time—and even then, the scars might never fade.

Luther gently squeezed my hand. The simple gesture made all the difference, his strength soaking into me as surely as his magic had.

“You weren’t there, Mother.” My chin lifted. “But Luther was. He made sure I had weapons and friends and a place I could feel safe, and he asked nothing in return. He took care of me. Teller, too. Even when we had no one, we always had him.”

Her bleary-eyed focus shifted to Luther, the scorn softening from her face. “Perhaps...” Her throat worked. “Perhaps I’ve been hasty in my judgment.”

I sighed and sagged against him. “You can’t imagine what he and I have been through. I owe him everything.”

He laid a kiss on my temple. “You owe me nothing.”

My mother took a moment to compose herself, wiping her face and taking a steadying breath. “After a lifetime of keeping secrets, openness doesn’t come easy for me. It’s already cost me my husband.” She grimaced, another tear breaking free. “I won’t let it take my daughter, too.” She offered her hand. “Can you forgive me? Or at least give me a chance to make it right?”

I hesitated. “Will you give him a chance?”

She looked at Luther, her expression unreadable. No longer hostile—but not entirely trusting, either. “You swear your intentions toward my daughter are good? You’re not using her for your own gain?”

“I swear,” he said firmly. “Her happiness is my only goal.”

She gave a stiff nod. “I still have questions, but I will keep an open mind. If what my daughter says is true, then it seems I owe you my gratitude.”

He dipped his head low.

“From now on, we tell each other the truth,” I insisted. “ All of it.”

“All of it,” she echoed.

I glanced up at Luther, and I could have wept at the fragile hope in his eyes. “All of it,” he agreed.

I pulled my mother into an embrace, feeling for the first time like she was really, truly back in my life. We both began to cry, then laughed through messy sniffles at our sorry states. I put an arm around her shoulders, took Luther’s hand, and together we walked back to the campfire, ready to start anew.