Chapter 17 Kai
Chapter seventeen
Kai
Once I’m home and confirm that the creepy spellbook is still in the freezer, I go through my normal nighttime routine.
I hang up my leather jacket, throw away the shrimp I forgot to cook, message Thomas to take his meds, and remind Golden to drink blood. Then update the family chat, while checking emails, and run the hoover around.
When my chores are done—tomorrow's to-do list updated, everything put away or folded or cleaned—my small flat suddenly becomes too wide, like it could be measured in miles rather than meters.
But with nothing else to fuss over, the thought I’ve been trying to hold down bobs to the surface whether I want it to or not.
I wanna go back to Vampire Manor.
I want Vidar’s strong tattooed arms around me. Why shouldn’t I take advantage? I’m sure soon enough the big vampire will get used to the soulmate thing, or whatever fuckery this whole Fate business is, and he’ll stop caring.
But maybe I’ve still got some pride, or maybe I just wanna torture myself, because instead of crawling back to Vampire Manor to be a slut for Vidar’s unwavering attention, I rip off my clothes and pad naked into the bathroom.
Light bathes the room as I flick the switch and twist the shower handle, sending a steady stream rushing from the head. I’m surprised when steam quickly fills the space, and not wanting to waste my good luck, I jump inside and sigh as pleasantly warm water chases the long day down the drain.
I stretch my arms overhead on a deep inhale, water cascading over my shining brown skin. My head drops back onto my shoulders, and I’m careful not to get my braids wet as I think of the many long conversations I had today.
Vidar is now my friend. My sixth best friend, apparently. I scoff aloud, and the bathroom walls catch it to repeat it back. I don’t wanna be Vidar’s fucking friend.
I want those big, calloused hands of his to touch every inch of my body. To look at me with that molten silver gaze, like I’m his everything. It’s stupid and fucked up, but damn—my blood burned fever-hot when Vidar growled at Rurik for just looking my way.
Like he reached inside, found the soft, gooey centre I try so hard to keep buried, and claimed it as his.
My hand runs down my wet chest as a deep-seated need sparks low in my gut, setting fire to every nerve ending with such sudden intensity my legs shake.
I want Vidar to grab hold of my hips and press my throbbing body to his.
Letting my eyelids drop, I picture his thick arms corded with muscles—inked in tattoos I won’t allow myself to explore—as imaginary Vidar using them to pin me against the slick wall. The hard bulk of his body pressing against mine, letting me know just how very, very badly he wants me.
There’s no conflict in his gaze—only desire aimed for me alone.
My hand brushes over my navel, my breath quickens and my prick twitches.
‘Little prince making demands again?’
My teeth sink into my bottom lip as Vidar’s voice slips into my mind.
I drop back against the slippery shower wall, hot blood filling my prick and leaving me light-headed. I suck down lungfuls of air, my hand trailing down to finally grasp my aching, hard length with a hiss of pleasure.
‘Tease.’ Fake Vidar whispers. The steam becomes his hot breath as it licks over the sensitive shell of my ear.
My hand glides up and down, thumb playing with my sensitive head, my other palm stroking across my nipples.
“You're the one teasing…” I half whisper, half moan.
‘Still you, little prince, still you.’
I rock my hips into my moving hand, gasping when I take one of my nipples and pinch—hard enough to give me an edge to my pleasure, not enough to hurt.
‘Demand anything of me.’
I toss my head back, balls drawn up. Needing more, needing everything.
‘I’m a conqueror.’
“Vidar!” I scream his name. And God, how good it feels to strip away the strength and let the desire pour out instead of choking it down.
My toes curl. My hand squeezes my prick. My fingers twist until my nipple stings.
‘And I plan to have both those spots as mine.’
Pleasure pumps from my toes to my fucking eyeballs as a whining cry tears from my throat, sharp and raw like fangs sinking in.
Ropes of cum shoot from my straining prick and paint the opposite wall.
Gasping, my body trembles from the power of my orgasm.
My head tossed back to ride out the waves of shuddering sensation.
Which is when the water goes frigid, and I’m screaming for a whole different reason as I scramble out of the shower.
***
I’m jolted awake by a bang and a distant, muffled sound of either rusted hinges or laughter.
The bang wasn’t like a fist against the door.
Or the hollow clank of a pan hitting the ground in the kitchen, but something with weight, and then a fluttering. With my mind addled by sleep, and the darkness so thick I can barely make out my hand on the pillow—one finger curled against my lips—I’m worried that a bird somehow flew into my flat.
With both arms tucked under me, I groan as I pull them out to push my covers off to investigate.
I seize up.
The hand on the pillow isn’t mine.
I shoot back, slamming my head against the wall, and scramble out of bed, kicking at the sheets tangled around my ankles. Every breath is a block of ice trying to squeeze through a pinprick.
I scurry, tripping over my feet—God, I hope they’re my feet—and bang my knee on something as I reach for the light. Slapping it hard enough pain ricochets up my wrist.
Whipping around, arms up to defend myself, I frantically search my flat. Eyes bounce to the floor, then the walls, until they land on my bed.
But there isn’t another person in my flat.
It should be a relief.
Yet panicked horror coils around my ribs and constricts tighter and tighter, until even if I wanted to breathe, I couldn’t. Not when I see what’s open wide on my pillow, innocently as if I’d fallen asleep reading it—the blood mage spell book. The First Tome.
Wide-eyed, not even risking a blink, I dash towards my phone beside my bed and snatch it up, certain the book might contort into some abhorrent human shape and attack. But not even a page twitches.
I take one step back, then another, fumbling to unlock my phone. My hands are sweating too much and shaking too hard, and my vision swims. I back into the kitchen, bare feet splashing into a shallow pool of chilled water, and my back hits the open freezer door.
My trembling gaze never leaves the spellbook in my bed as I unlock my phone, and, without thinking, I call the last person added to my contacts.
There’s one ring and then—
“Kai?”
At the sound of Vidar’s voice, my legs finally give out, and I slide into the pool of cold water.
“I need you, Vidar,” I whisper, each forced word shaken as it passes through my tears. “You need to get here. Please just get here.”
There’s noise in the background. Vidar says something. Or shouts it.
I’m so fucking over being scared all the time. Tired of fighting against this current trying to pull me under.
“Are you hurt?”
I shake my head.
“Kai!” he shouts my name, desperate—like I might not answer him back, and that’s something he does not accept.
“I’m n-not hurt,” I say, voice quivering. “Stay on the phone with me.”
“I’m coming to you, Kai. I’ll be there soon. Keep talking to me.”
I definitely say words, though I’m not sure what they are. Maybe I keep repeating that he needs to get here. He needs to stay on the phone with me. That Vidar can’t leave me alone. I think he tells me he’s coming and not to hang up. I think Vidar promises to never leave me again.
It’s all a haze as I wait for him. Huddled on the floor and counting every second by the steady drips of melting ice splashing into the puddle beneath me.
There’s a screeching noise of metal being torn open from the phone, then rushing footsteps.
And finally…
“Kai!” Vidar’s voice echoes from my phone and from behind my front door. “It’s me!”
Scrambling up, I lunge towards the handle and throw it open to find Vidar standing there, silver eyes huge and chest heaving.
“What happened?” he demands.
My phone clatters to the ground, and as the block of ice shatters and my lungs fill, I throw my arms around my soulmate.
“Fuck, you’re shaking.” Vidar picks me up, and my legs wrap around him. “I’ve got you. I’m not letting you go, Kai.”
“The book got out of the freezer,” I hiccup into his neck. “There was a h-hand. It was a person, like the girl, a-and it was touching my mouth.”
Vidar growls and crushes me against him, like he’s trying to push me into his chest. He stomps towards the bed and snatches up the spellbook. Immediately, the scent of scorched flesh finds me and the sound of sizzling, like bacon on the stove, and smoke rises from where the book burns him.
“Your hand!” I cry out.
“Fuck my hand,” he bites out, throwing the thing into the hallway. Just before he slams the door shut, we both see a bloody handprint on the door.
Was this Emma’s doing?
Vidar slams the door with such force I’m surprised it doesn’t crack.
“That fucking trollkona!” Vidar growls, carrying me over to my bed. “I’ve got you now, I’m right here.”
He sits on the mattress, keeping me close and rubbing the space between my shoulder blades. Our hearts beat to the same pounding rhythm; every breath that leaves him, I inhale.
“I don’t wanna be scared anymore, Vidar,” I beg into his shoulder. “I just want it all to stop.”
“I am going to deal with this.” His voice in my ear is hard as a hammer coming down on an anvil. “I will burn this fucking city to the ground and dig Emma from the ashes if I have to, Kai. Anything—everything—to keep you safe.”
Maybe I’m pathetic, or maybe all the pride I told myself I had vanished the second I saw what lay on my pillow. But right now, all I want is to hand my problems over to Vidar, cover my ears and close my eyes, and just let him sort my life out.
For a long time, he simply holds me, and I wish more than anything that he wanted me the way I want him.
“You're soaking wet.” Gently, like I’m more fragile than spun glass, Vidar pulls my face up and carefully strokes my braids away. “Let’s get you out of these clothes and into something warm, my little prince.”
“I can do that myself,” I say, leaning into his hand and making no effort to move. “Will you clean up the mess in the kitchen?”
Vidar brushes his lips across my forehead. “Whatever you need.”
I stay in his lap, and he doesn’t stop rubbing my back. Now the fear has passed, all that remains is exhaustion.
Vidar helps me stand like he’s afraid I’m about to collapse—and honestly, maybe I am.
My legs wobble like a newborn deer’s as I grab fresh clothes from the cupboard and slip into the bathroom.
I don’t close the door and can hear Vidar cleaning up the mess.
When I come back out, the kitchen floor is dry, and I’m dressed in what I normally wear to bed—boxer briefs and an old band tee.
“Will you stay tonight? Please…” I mumble, fighting to keep my eyes open.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Then he tugs me towards the bed. “C’mon, get inside. You need rest, and I’ll be here the whole time. I don’t need sleep, I’ll stay up all night.”
“Vidar, I can’t…I can’t get in that bed alone.” I feel weak asking, but better to be weak and finding comfort than pretending to be strong and getting nothing.
Without words, he kicks off his shoes and slips under the covers, his large frame taking up most of the space. Then Vidar wraps an arm around my middle and tugs me forward, until I’m lying on his chest, my head nestled on his shoulder.
“Nothing can hurt you, little prince,” Vidar whispers, the vibration of his low, rumbling voice lulling me into an exhausted sleep as he wraps us in my blanket. “I am your shield against this world, and I will fight even gods I never believed in to keep you safe.”
His words wash over me, his hands rubbing the place between my shoulders, and somehow I fall into a dreamless sleep as he whispers more promises into my ear.