Chapter 7 #4
When his fingertips finally met her flesh, he felt such acute relief. A soft wash of white light flowed from his hand, into her body, as he stabilized her heart just enough until Lucien could come.
The door began to open, and Atlas sank into the shadows.
Rhyden dropped to his knees beside Vesperin, pressing a hand beneath her jaw to feel her pulse.
"Fuck!" he cursed, barely having enough sense to remember there was a goddamned Rogue in the room. He searched for it, only to find it in a heap, black eyes open and unseeing. It was dead.
Rin groaned weakly, drawing his attention. "Rh—Rhyden…" she slurred.
Rhyden lifted her; she was so fucking light. Her head flopped against his chest as he stormed out of the room, his feet thundering up the metal stairs. He laid her down on a chair.
Vesperin’s shaking hands tangled in the edge of his shirt. "There was… someone—here."
"Don’t talk," Rhyden ordered, hands pressed to her chest like he could will her heart back to normal.
Goddammit!
The door banged open, and he looked up, finding Lucien’s seething face standing there. He rushed to her side.
Vesperin looked weakly to him. "My shadow—he was here—"
Lucien shoved Rhyden’s hand away, his controlled fingers searching for the zipper on her suit. When he couldn’t find it, he grabbed the collar and tore it roughly down the middle, exposing her pale chest and the tops of her breasts.
Lucien placed his hand right over her heart. Green glimmers began to fill the air.
Lucien felt her heart as he steadied it and breathed a sigh of relief. While he’d forged the connection, he’d shifted to lie back on the chair, with Vesperin nestled on his lap.
He met Rhyden’s eyes, and it took everything inside him not to strangle the vampire for this—for putting her in harm’s way.
Vesperin shifted against him, slowly growing more cognizant. She would continue to do so as he kept her heart beating at the perfect rate, matching his own—until she grew drowsy and slept. The time between was fragile and short-lived.
Her ponytail was loose, stray hair tangled around her forehead, and he smoothed it away gently. "You’re okay now, my V girl."
"Are you… Harmony?" she whispered.
Lucien felt the steady beat beneath his palm, in his very Soul. "I had to."
"This feels wrong."
"It keeps you alive."
She hummed. "My shadow was here." Her voice was tinged with exhaustion.
Lucien met Rhyden’s eyes. That wasn’t the first time she’d said that.
"What do you mean?" Rhyden questioned sharply.
Lucien felt her heart’s desire to stutter at the vampire’s dark tone, but he stilled it forcibly.
"Was anyone else in the room with her?" Lucien asked Rhyden.
"No," said Rhyden.
With Vesperin’s heart calming, Lucien was no longer distracted from anger.
As if sensing it, Rhyden spoke first:
"That doesn’t seem very ethical or sustainable, hm? Never knew you had it in you to break your, what—code? Don’t doctors have morals?"
The glimmers fizzled as Lucien struggled to regain control. "Did you force her to do this?"
"Of course I fucking didn’t."
"It doesn’t look like it to me. You got her when no one else was around to know. It seems like you wanted this to be a secret," Lucien accused.
"Yeah! Because you all are up her fucking ass, not letting her make any decisions for herself!"
"Stop it," Vesperin whispered. "Don’t fight. This was my decision. Rhyden didn’t force me."
"You shouldn’t talk right now—just rest," Lucien said, forcing his tone to be gentle. And if he forced her heart to calm a little too much so she’d fall into unconsciousness, that was a secret he’d take to his grave.
Lucien felt the precise moment she fell asleep. When he glanced down at her, her eyes were closed.
Lucien met Rhyden’s eyes, beginning to stand with her cradled in his arms, all while keeping his hand resting against her heart. "If she dies because you’re obsessed with your revenge, then you’re no better than her adoptive parents."
Rin woke to a weight on her chest. She blinked her eyes open with great effort. A dim yellow glow permeated the darkness, chasing away the shadows. Her mind—it was clear in a way she had felt only once. An unnatural sort of soft, sparkling clarity.
She exhaled softly, and the weight on her chest shifted with her. She smiled faintly, running her fingers through the red mop of hair nestled on her chest.
Cyrus’s chin dug into her collarbone as he twisted his head up. She blushed at the sight of his half-lidded, purple eyes, so close to hers she nearly went cross-eyed. His lips were red and luscious, and she couldn’t help but stare at them, feeling warmth pool in her core.
"How long was I asleep this time?"
Cyrus hummed. "Only a day. You woke up a few hours ago and drank some electrolyte juice."
Rin had the faintest recollection of that. She wondered where Lucien was…
"What time is it?"
"Little after midnight," replied the incubus. "What do you remember?"
She recalled the white light that had pulsed from her, feeling like pieces of her Soul had been sucked out along the way, her heart forced into an arrhythmic beat in the aftermath, leaving her sore and on the verge of death—until Lucien.
Rin let her head fall back against the pillows with a low sigh.
"I guess you’re all pissed at Rhyden?" She didn’t give Cyrus time to reply.
"Don’t be. It was my idea"—a lie that spilled from her lips before she could think it through—"I asked him to do it, so don’t blame him, blame me. Actually, you know what? Don’t blame me either.
Because I’m not a little girl. I don’t need to ask for permission to do anything… " The words kept coming.
She stared at the ceiling as she spoke, feeling Cyrus’s comforting weight and knowing he would never hold this against her.
"If I weren’t so worried about you all forbidding me to do something, then I wouldn’t feel the need to sneak around. I’ve trusted you time and time again. I need you to trust me, this time."
Smooth fingertips danced across her collarbones, tracing their shape.
"You know I’ll always trust you, doll. You may not remember fully, but we trusted each other.
You opened up to me. You let me show you that freely given pleasure is the most powerful weapon of all.
I’m not mad at you. I just wish you had let me be there, too. "
Cyrus shifted, his hands braced by her shoulders as he held himself over her.
He wore a serious expression, brows drawn low over his stunning eyes.
"I love you, Vesperin, and I will until the galaxies have turned to dust." He smiled a brilliant smile, but she couldn’t help but notice it was tinged with sadness. "I’m not a doctor, a crime lord, a Celestial-ordained being, or anything like that. I’m just a runaway prince who can’t live without sex. A bad one, at that."
Understanding hit her all at once. Why Cyrus had been reluctant to feed from her, sating himself on enough emotions from the others… He was ashamed. Of who he was, what he needed.
Rin acted on instinct. She moved her arms up and took his face in between her hands.
"You’re not nothing, Cyrus."
He started to shake his head.
"No, listen. When we first met on Sibeth, I didn’t know anything about you.
I was running from the grief of Kit’s—death.
I wanted escape, and I found you. A savior.
You unlocked something inside of me, Cy," Rin murmured.
"You held yourself back from hurting me.
You waited for me for three hundred years after… "
Fragmented memories surfaced, broken by centuries and the experiments she’d been forced to endure.
Prismatic scenes of a blue, sparkling ocean, the way the curtains fluttered in the sea-scented breeze, and how he’d find her there, every morning, and kiss along her spine and drop to his knees and worship her.
The memories turned to ash, leaving behind a blooming headache.
"I don’t remember it all. I may never. But I do know, Cyrus Soltren, that what I feel for you spans lifetimes. I love you." He was the only man besides Lucien and Kit she’d ever said those words to in a romantic way. The vulnerability of it made her feel shy.
"My pretty little doll. Wind you up and pull the string, and you whisper such beautiful words to me.
" Cyrus kissed the tip of her nose. "It should be me who praises you.
I love, love, love you." Each word was punctuated by a sloppy, wet kiss on her cheeks.
His tongue traced over her salty tears, and she was dazed and hazy, drugged by harmony, a part of her searching for Lucien, but trying to be content in this moment—with her incubus.
When she opened her eyes—she was barely aware of when she’d closed them—the dark room was no longer dark. Everything was bathed in a red glow.
"Cyrus…" Rin let her fingers span out across his cheeks, until the pads of her thumbs traced beneath his eyes—and the deep shadows there. "Have you been feeding?"
Cyrus’s forehead fell to hers. "Bites here and there. It’s easy with so much emotion from the others. Nothing will ever sate me like pleasure. To me, it’s the very air in my lungs. Other feelings—they’re like scraps of oxygen. Good for a time, but after a while…"
She’d known. She’d seen it in his eyes, the lack of light, the dulling spark.
"I already let my instincts take over once when I took your virginity. The soft little gasp you let slip out… It haunts me."
She blushed from the image his words painted. It haunted her. But for an entirely different reason.
"You can’t starve yourself, Cyrus. Feed from me." Her fingers dipped to his lips.
Rin expected him to deny himself longer, but she was learning to expect the unexpected when it came to her incubus.