Chapter Twelve #2
“The last warden.” I move to sit on the edge of the bed. “Your ancestors made a deal with heaven to seal the Khorvath three thousand years ago. You’re the anchor. The final piece of a prison that’s falling apart.”
She processes this in silence, her fingers twisting in the blanket. Through the bond, I feel her fear. Her anger. The desperate wish to be normal, to be anyone other than the woman with the weight of the world on her shoulders.
“The Khorvath wants me because killing me breaks the seal.”
“Or claiming you gives it control over the seal.” I take her hand, thumb stroking across her knuckles. “Either way, you’re the key. And Prophet thinks the bond we created might be the only thing keeping you alive right now.”
“How?”
“Your warden blood is mixing with my vampire power. It’s creating something new. Something the Khorvath didn’t account for.” I meet her eyes. “But it also means we’re in deeper than I thought. This isn’t about protecting you anymore. This is about preventing an apocalypse.”
She laughs, the sound edged with hysteria. “No pressure.”
“Tessa—”
“I’m fine.” She squeezes my hand. “I’m fine. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. I’m just the magical battery standing between Alaska and an ice apocalypse. Totally normal Tuesday.”
“It’s Thursday.”
“Even better.” She pulls her hand free, running it through her hair. “Okay. What do we do?”
“We figure out how to strengthen the seal without you dying in the process.”
“And if we can’t?”
The question hangs between us, terrible and necessary.
“Then we fight,” I say simply. “We fight until there’s nothing left to fight with. Because I’m not letting that thing take you. Not now. Not ever.”
She stares at me for a long moment, emotions flickering across her face too fast to track. Then she moves, closing the distance between us, and kisses me.
This kiss is different from the others. Not desperate or gentle or claiming. This is need. Pure, undiluted need to feel something other than fear. To connect with someone who understands what she’s facing. To be more than a magical anchor for five minutes.
I kiss her back, pulling her into my lap so she’s straddling me, her thighs bracketing my hips. The bond flares hot between us, emotions bleeding back and forth in waves, her fear and my determination, her desire and my hunger, all tangling together until I can’t tell where she ends and I begin.
Her hands slide into my hair, pulling hard enough to sting, and I growl against her mouth. My own hands find her hips, gripping tight enough to bruise human skin. Through the thin fabric of her panties, I can feel the heat of her, and it makes my fangs ache.
“Vex,” she gasps when I break the kiss to trail my mouth down her throat. “We shouldn’t—”
“Probably not.” I bite down gently on the junction of her neck and shoulder, careful to keep my fangs retracted. “Tell me to stop.”
She doesn’t.
Instead, her hips rock against mine, grinding down on the hard length of my cock, and the friction is exquisite torture. I can smell her arousal now and it drives every rational thought from my mind.
“Touch me,” she breathes, and who am I to deny her?
My hands slide under her tank top, cold fingers against warm skin, and she shivers. I map her body slowly, the curve of her waist, the dip of her spine, the soft swell of her breasts. When my thumbs brush across her nipples, she arches into the touch, moaning.
The sound goes straight to my cock.
I pull her shirt over her head in one smooth motion, and then she’s bare from the waist up, flushed, beautiful and mine. I lean down, taking one nipple into my mouth, and she cries out, her hands fisting in my hair.
Through the bond, I can feel what she feels. Every lick, every scrape of teeth, every touch amplified by the connection between us. It’s overwhelming and addictive, and I want more.
I want everything.
My hand slides down, to the top of her underwear, and she lifts her hips to help me slide them down.
“Vex,” she says again, and my name has never sounded better than when she’s breathless and wanting.
I slip my hand beneath the fabric, fingers finding her slick and ready, and she gasps. I work her slowly, learning what makes her moan, what makes her hips buck, what makes her nails dig into my shoulders hard enough to draw blood.
When I slide two fingers inside her, she comes apart in my arms, her orgasm hitting hard and fast through the bond. I feel it with her, the wave of pleasure, the moment of perfect release, and it nearly undoes me.
But I’m not done with her yet.
I flip us, pinning her beneath me on the bed, and she spreads her legs without hesitation. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, and the trust in them makes my dead heart stutter.
“Are you sure?” I ask, giving her one last chance to change her mind.
“Yes.” She pulls me down for a kiss. “I’m sure.”
I strip out of my clothes in record time, rip her panties off and then there’s nothing between us but heat and want and the bond humming with shared desire. I position myself at her entrance, and—
A knock on the door.
“Vex.” Blade’s voice, hard and commanding. “Church. Now.”
We both freeze.
“Ignore him,” Tessa whispers.
“I can hear you, Tessa,” Blade says dryly. “And while I appreciate young love, we have an apocalypse to prevent. Vex, five minutes. Don’t make me break down another door.”
His footsteps retreat down the hallway, and Tessa drops her head back against the pillow with a groan. “I hate him.”
“You and me both.” I roll off her reluctantly, already missing her warmth. “We’ll finish this later.”
“Promise?”
I lean down, kissing her once more. Soft. Sweet. Full of promises I intend to keep.
“Promise.”
Church is packed when I arrive, every brother is here. Blade sits at the head of the table, Prophet beside him, and the look on both their faces tells me this isn’t going to be good news.
“Gentlemen,” Blade begins, his voice cutting through the murmur of conversation. “We have a problem.”
“What else is new?” Fury mutters, earning a few chuckles.
“The territory we’ve claimed?” Blade continues. “The land we’ve fought to protect? It sits on top of an ancient prison. And something inside is trying to break free.”
Silence.
Then Rooster speaks up, his voice skeptical. “What kind of prison?”
“The supernatural kind,” Prophet says. “Built by angels to contain a Primordial entity. One that feeds on fear, cold, and broken promises. One that’s marked our newest resident as its ticket to freedom.”
“Tessa,” Hollywood realizes.
“Tessa,” Blade confirms. “She’s the last of a bloodline tasked with guarding the seal. The Khorvath, the entity trying to escape, has marked her. And if it succeeds in either killing or claiming her, the seal breaks.”
“Then we protect her,” Ranger says immediately. “It’s what we do. Nobody fucks with the Kings.”
“It’s not that simple,” I say, drawing all eyes to me. “Protecting her might not be enough. The seal is weakening regardless. The permafrost is melting. The ancient magic is fraying. Eventually, the Khorvath will break free whether we protect Tessa or not.”
“What do we do?” Flint asks.
“We find a way to reseal it.” Prophet’s voice is grim. “The original binding required willing sacrifice from a vampire, a shifter, and a warden. All three giving their lives to strengthen the prison.”
“You’re asking us to let Tessa die,” Chrome says flatly.
“I’m saying it might come to that.” Prophet meets his gaze steadily. “Or we find another way. But we need to be prepared for the possibility.”
The room erupts.
Half the brothers are shouting about honor and the club’s reputation. The other half are arguing pragmatism versus suicide. Fury’s literally steaming, heat waves rising from his skin, while Scout’s wings have manifested in agitation, gossamer and iridescent in the harsh fluorescent light.
Through it all, Blade sits silent. Watching. Waiting.
Finally, he slams his hand on the table, the sound like a gunshot. “Enough.”
Instant silence.
“Here’s what we know,” Blade says, his alpha command making everyone sit up straighter.
“We have an ancient monster trying to break free. We have a woman under our protection who’s connected to said monster.
We have a VP who’s blood-bound to her. And we have less than a week to figure out how to prevent the apocalypse. ”
He stands, planting his hands on the table.
“Here’s what we’re going to do. Prophet, you keep researching.
Find every scrap of information you can about the seal and how to reinforce it.
Vex, you work with Tessa. Figure out what the bond can do, what her warden powers are, and how we can use them.
Everyone else, we fortify. We patrol. We prepare for war. ”
“And if it comes down to a choice?” Stash asks quietly. “Between Tessa and everyone else?”
Blade’s eyes find mine. “Then Vex makes the call. She’s his responsibility now. His choice. And whatever he decides, the club backs him.”
The weight of that settles on my shoulders like a physical thing.
Tessa’s life in my hands. The fate of Alaska in my hands. The survival of everyone I care about depending on whether I can keep one woman safe while also figuring out how to reseal an ancient prison.
No pressure indeed.
“Meeting adjourned,” Blade says. “Get to work.”
The brothers file out, some shooting me sympathetic looks, others looking grim. When the room clears, Blade gestures for me to stay.
“How bad is it?” he asks once we’re alone.
“The bond?” I lean against the wall. “Complicated. Powerful. Potentially fatal for her if I’m not careful.”
“And if you are careful?”
“Then maybe we have a weapon the Khorvath didn’t anticipate.” I meet his eyes. “Prophet thinks vampire and warden power combined might be enough to hurt it. Really hurt it.”
“Or it might make her an even bigger target.”
“That too.”
Blade sighs, running a hand through his long hair. “I don’t envy you, brother. Having to choose between love and duty.”
“Who says I’m choosing?”
“Because you will have to.” His voice is gentle but firm. “Eventually, it’ll come down to her or everyone else. And when that moment comes, you need to be ready to make the hard call.”
“And if I can’t?”
“Then I will.” He claps me on the shoulder. “But I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that. For all our sakes.”
He leaves, and I stand there in the empty room, the weight of everything pressing down.
Then I feel it through the bond, Tessa’s sudden spike of fear.
I’m moving before conscious thought, racing up the stairs, and I burst into my room to find her sitting on the bed, staring at her hands.
They’re glowing.
Faint blue light pulses beneath her skin, tracing patterns that look suspiciously like the mark on her shoulder. As I watch, the light spreads up her arms, across her chest, and when she looks up at me, her eyes are blazing with the same eerie blue.
“Vex,” she whispers, and her voice echoes with power that wasn’t there before. “Something’s happening to me.”
The warden power is waking up and heaven help us all when it fully manifests.