Chapter 19 Aniyah
ANIYAH
Warmth curled low in my belly, the stings from earlier melting into a steady, rhythmic thrum. Five pulses, not perfectly timed but undeniably present. Each beat echoed through my limbs and bloomed outward from my spine as if something ancient and intimate had been awakened.
What the hell is this?
The pulses spiraled in my mind, not chaotic, but deliberate, like dancers spinning golden thread through my nerves.
Soft, glinting strands of light wove from my back to my chest, tethering themselves to my heart.
Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt. It wasn’t invasive.
It felt… right. Final. Like a lock sliding into place after a lifetime of fumbling with the wrong key.
And yet, I didn’t understand a single reason why I would feel this way. Didn’t ask for it. Had no idea what it meant. I just knew something inside me had changed, and it had changed forever, which scared the shit out of me.
A crash jerked me from the moment, and my eyes flew open.
My hands instinctively searched under the pillow, fingers curling around cool metal.
My knife. Running my fingers across the silver handle engraved with my family’s words gave me comfort.
Family is everything. The rest is just extra. I was home.
Reaching across, I felt my thousand-count Egyptian thread sheets and the goose-down comforter that felt like a cloud was covering my whole body. I was in my bed. Why am I in my bed?
Confusion clouded my brain like fog on glass. I closed my eyes, pushing through the static to try to remember how I’d gotten here.
The last thing I could recall was the intruders. My club. We’d taken care of them. Guests were leaving, then a set of arms circled me. Arms that held me like I was something precious.
Alic’s worried face. A set of cerulean eyes flicked back and forth, devouring me with a sense of urgency and caution. I wanted to tell him I was fine when a new scent filtered in, fresh, earthy, raw, beckoning me to turn my head.
Maso.
He was there. Helping me.
The man I thought I’d never see again, my one-night fairytale, was suddenly tangled in the madness of my world, and I didn’t know why.
Just like that, my thoughts yanked into place. The puzzle pieces slammed together, bringing with them a wave of panic.
The wolf on stage.
The one I’d fucked in front of a crowd.
That was Maso.
Shit!
I jackknifed upright. Double shit. That made two times now that I’d fucked him without meaning to. He was never part of the plan.
The first time was that stormy night. I’d just taken over the Glovefox seat and needed my own territory to spread my wings, which led me to New York. Papa Avery already had a lot of connections in place, so it was the most natural place for me to go, but it still meant starting over.
Wanting to ride out the stress, I had taken Nova’s bike—mine was already packed—on a scenic ride from Vegas to New York. Somewhere in rural upstate New York, rain came down like bullets, and I wiped out hard, skidding into a ditch like some rookie.
I remembered limping through the dark, soaked and pissed, until I saw the porch light of a house flicker in the distance. Garage open, the sounds of someone tinkering with their car filtered through the air despite the pounding of the rain. I was never so glad to hear that sound.
Knocking on the metal door, I thought I’d use my charm, or magic if necessary, to get this person to help me and be gone before morning.
Then he rolled out.
Eyes the color of electric storms. Onyx hair brushing his ears, where it began to curl, just long enough to tug. Mediterranean-tanned skin, all golden and warm like a summer memory. And that smile, crooked with a dimple so criminal it should’ve come with a warning.
He offered to help, no magic or convincing needed. He was just a nice guy… so I let myself have one selfish night with a stranger who didn’t know my name, my legacy, or my title. For one evening, we were just a man and a woman with a warm bed and no expectations between them.
I disappeared before the sun rose. No note. No goodbye. Reality had come knocking first thing in the morning with Nova texting me, and I knew my fantasy couldn’t survive daylight.
Now, here he was, tangled in my life again. No longer a memory.
Voices echoed from the kitchen, dragging me back to my reality. That warmth that had once felt golden turned acidic. The threads twisted inside me, anger, dread, guilt, need. Emotions surged so hot, so fast, that it made my stomach churn.
Curling my fingers into the sheets, I willed myself not to lose control.
Focus, Aniyah. What are you really feeling?
I closed my eyes and pulled the chaos inward, imagining each wild emotion like an object, then shoving them into a dark iron chest inside my mind. Once they were all inside, I slammed the lid and locked it, telling myself I’d deal with them later.
I took one shaky breath, then another. The weight inside of my chest eased.
Swinging my legs off the bed, I stood and glanced down at the blood crusted on my robe. My face scrunched in disgust. They put me in bed but didn't change my clothes?
Growling, I peeled the robe off as I went to my closet, tugging on an off-the-shoulder cropped sweater. From the drawer, I grabbed the first pair of underwear I could, some black boyshorts, and slipped them on.
I padded toward the noise just in time to hear Lucus’ polished accent crack with fury. “That’s a bunch of fairy shit, and you know it!”
Men. I rolled my eyes. If it weren’t for big dicks and olive jar lids, I swear…
Leaning into the doorway, arms crossed, voice like a blade, I asked, “What fairy shit?”
Every head in the room turned to me, and just like that, I was back in control.
“Ni! How are you feeling? Anything weird?”
Van was the first to rush over, eyes sharp, hands gentle. He placed the back of his hand against my forehead, playing the part of overanxious mother hen.
I wanted to roll my eyes, but instead, I forced my face into neutrality, schooling the shivers that started rippling under my skin.
My body was off, still humming thanks to those pulsing, golden threads that had rooted themselves in me earlier.
I wasn't about to start explaining that to anyone.
Not yet. Not until I understood what the hell it was.
So, I shrugged, letting the mask fall over my face. “I’m fine.”
Van’s all-knowing eyes looked over me, and before he could call me on it, something shifted when I really looked at him. Van. Earth mage. Bomb on floor. Club.
Oh, fuck, what happened to my club?!
A jolt of panic surged through me. My fingers shot out, grabbing his hand and gripping it hard, just to make sure he was solid, here, breathing.
“What about the club?” I asked urgently. “Did your magic hold up?”
His blazing green eyes met mine with calm, grounding warmth. The soft curve of his lips, half-smile, half-reassurance, nearly yanked the breath from my lungs.
“The club’s fine,” he said gently. “As soon as the blast hit, the magic I embedded into the walls wrapped around the shockwave. It couldn't spread. Whoever did this didn’t know the structure—walls, studs, foundation—is laced with reinforced earth magic. Walls, studs, foundation. We’re good.”
I swayed a little where I stood, as if some invisible cord had been cut. “Fuck. Thank god.”
All the tension that had my body in a vise grip finally released. My club, the empire I had built with my blood, sweat, and ruthlessness, was intact.
It wasn’t just a building. It was my sanctuary. My brand. My power. If that place had crumbled… I might have, too.
Just as relief washed over me, a colder sensation took its place, something sharp and simmering.
Rage.
Someone tried to destroy the one place I called mine. Tried to collapse everything I’d built. I was going to make sure they regretted taking a single breath.
My mind kicked into motion, logical thought slicing through the haze as I spoke aloud.
“No one outside of you, me, and my siblings knows about the magical security measures in the building. We went out of our way to keep it classified. Calix even burned the blueprints—physically and digitally. Scrubbed everything. There shouldn’t be a trace. ”
A strange emptiness suddenly bloomed in my stomach like I’d swallowed a void. I rubbed at it absently, unable to shake the feeling of something unraveling.
“What’s wrong?!”
Alic’s booming voice cut through the room as he practically jumped over the couch to get to me, his massive frame tense, raised arms ready to catch me if I so much as blinked wrong.
“Is it your—”
I cut off whatever panic-fueled question he was about to ask with a dry laugh and waved him off.
“I’m just hungry,” I muttered, which was true. Kind of. Hunger was easier to admit than magical body weirdness and psychological whiplash.
I tried to move past him, heading for the fridge, but Lucus stepped in front of me. That vampire moved lightning-fast, pulling out a chair like I needed to be escorted to dinner.
“Sit down, darling. I’ll make you something to eat.”
I narrowed my eyes on him. “Do you even know how to cook?”
Not judging… okay, maybe a little. I didn’t cook. Never needed to. I was a city girl, raised by chaos and convenience. My meals came from five-star kitchens or twenty-four-hour delivery boys. The idea of standing over a stove seemed so… domestic.
Lucus, with his golden, sun-drenched hair falling into his eyes, bowed his head, lips twitching with amusement. “I wouldn’t offer if I couldn’t deliver.”
With a half-hearted shrug, I dropped into the chair. Fine. Let the vampire chef prove himself.
“How’s breakfast sound?”
I tilted my head back, offering him a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Sounds great.”