Chapter 41
Iwatch helplessly as Sterling shuts the door behind him, moving forward into the room. His eyes dart between me and Aamon, unsure of who to keep in his field of vision.
“Why are you here?” Aamon asks in a smug voice, still rubbing his fingers against the outline of his jaw.
“I, uh . . .” Sterling looks back over his shoulder to find my eyes. “I want . . .”
“I know what you want, Sterling. What I asked is why you're here.” Silence rings through the air. Sterling’s scared, that much I can see. But he’s wound tight with need, and his eyes devour the sight of me like this. I lick my lips, feeling just as desperate for him.
“If you cannot relay your desires better than this, then perhaps you should turn around and leave. This isn’t the space nor the time for uncertainty.” Aamon gestures towards the door, turning his gaze away from Sterling.
The action has me feeling suddenly rather protective of Sterling. I grimace, wanting to chastise Aamon for his tone. Wanting to remind him that while Quinn and Aamon may be comfortable, he's torn, having just walked away from whatever was transpiring between him and Zeke to be here with us.
But before I can act on my impulse, Quinn tugs on the rope once more, tightening his hold on me and forcing my view of the two males to be obstructed by a mess of my hair and the sheets my face is now pressed against.
The sight must be all the push Sterling needs, because he steps between me and Aamon, chest puffed out and shoulders strong.
“I’m here for this. For her. Whatever you’ve started here with Quinn and Evangeline, I want to be a part of it.”
There’s a pause in the air, a moment that feels like an eternity. My breath hitches, my neck strains, and my hands pull hard on my restraints. I want to run to him, want to tell him how badly I want that too, but all I can do is kneel and wait.
“Do you understand what you're asking for, Sterling?” Aamon finally responds, tone turning deathly serious.
I hear Sterling swallow before answering.
“Yes.”
Just one word, but my eyes prick with tears at the sound of it.
I hear the creak of the throne as Aamon shifts forward. “You’re not just asking her to be bound to you,” he explains. “I won’t have her tied to anyone that is not also tied to me.”
“I understand.” Sterling responds almost immediately. My eyes go wide, a mixture of hope and nerves squeezing my heart so hard I fear it will pop.
“A bloodbond is no light matter.” Aamon is on his feet now.
I can hear the slow, steady tap of his boots as he moves forward and begins circling Sterling.
I shake my head, trying to brush my hair from my eyes and crane my neck ever further than I already have to watch them, but I’m only able to manage a distorted view of their lower halves as they dance around each other.
“I’m well aware,” Sterling replies, a bit more bite in his voice. I know how seriously Aamon takes these decisions. He doesn’t make light of something like this, and what Sterling is asking—even I know it’s a lot.
“And yet, you still request this of me?” Aamon stops just behind Sterling, both males facing forward.
“Please.” I barely hear the whispered exchange. Every muscle in my body goes tense as I await Aamon’s reply.
He inhales deeply, letting a moment pass as he taps his foot against the concrete floor.
I fear I’m going to crack, words crawling up my throat and threatening to break past my lips—a whole speech prepared to explain to Aamon why we need this, why we need him.
But he finally moves, leaning in slightly and resting a hand upon Sterling’s shoulder.
“Then get on your knees and beg for my blood.”
My jaw falls slack and I whip my head up in one swift motion. To my surprise, I find slack in the rope and I cut my gaze over to Quinn. He nods subtly, silently directing my attention back to Aamon and Sterling.
I watch with bated breath as the hand on Sterling’s shoulder urges him down.
Sterling doesn’t fight it. Not even a little bit.
He sinks to his knees, and I breathe a sigh of relief to see more of him.
The silhouette of his face is tight, his shoulders rigid as he follows Aamon’s orders and bows before him.
Aamon huffs out a breath of air, something akin to a laugh, as he makes his way back to his dais. It falls silent in the red room once more as Aamon situates himself upon the throne. He leans forward, elbows on his knees as he watches Sterling carefully. “Proceed,” he orders at last.
“Please, Aamon. You don’t understand how badly I need this.”
“On the contrary, I am well aware of the aura Evangeline possesses. The way she makes you feel like you’ll die if you don’t get a touch.” His masked face jerks up to meet mine, and despite not being able to see his eyes, I know they're searing into me. “A taste.”
He lingers on me for a moment, before turning his attention back to Sterling on the floor.
“But that’s not what I asked of you, Sterling.
I told you to beg for me, for my blood.” Aamon grits his teeth as he speaks, his rough, threatening tone slipping through the air.
“And once you’ve convinced me you are worthy enough to be bound to me, you can take your chances with Evangeline.
It’s her decision to be bloodbound to you, not mine.
And before I will even deign to let you ask such a question, I will make you surrender yourself to me. ”
Sterling swallows, frozen in Aamon’s power.
“Because she is mine. And anyone who touches her will be mine as well.”
Tension fills the air as the two males lock onto each other, challenging one another in a silent battle of wills.
But Sterling fights for only a few moments before lowering his chest towards the floor.
“I need you, Aamon. There is nothing I want more than to be bound to you. To truly be a part of your fold.”
Aamon leans back on his throne, sighing. I can't take my eyes off the pair, but I’m subtly aware of the way Quinn's moving closer to me, resting a hand on the swell of my hip to stroke soothing circles against my skin.
“That’s a good start,” Aamon voices at last. “But you’ve been defiant from the day you and Ezekiel joined the Blood Order.” There’s a flash of his fangs under the cover of his mask. “What makes you think you deserve a place at my side?”
“I don’t, Aamon. It would only be your mercy guiding me.
” Sterling doesn’t rise from where he’s laid out at Aamon’s feet, but I notice the way his fists clench against the concrete floor.
The slight tremble in his shoulders as he tries to contain the emotions warring within him.
“Because you’ve broken me, Aamon. Because I cannot imagine a path forward besides this one.
Because—” Sterling’s voice cracks, betraying him.
I flinch at the sound, hating the way Aamon is treating him. But before I can speak out, Quinn’s hand travels from my hip to my jaw in one swift motion, wrapping around my mouth.
“Shh.” He leans in, lips warm against the shell of my ear. “Let them have this moment, Angel. I promise it’s necessary.”
Tears sting my eyes, falling quickly past my lashes and splashing against Quinn’s hand. But I nod, despite how much I yearn to fix this for Sterling. Quinn’s thumb darts up, swiping away the moisture on my cheek as he leans in and kisses my temple. “That’s my girl.”
“Because I want what you and Quinn have,” Sterling finishes. Quinn freezes beside me. Judging by the way Aamon’s face shifts to the space to my right, I know they're exchanging something right now.
“And what of Ezekiel?” Aamon asks, attention stuck on Quinn.
Sterling doesn’t answer, just tenses even more on the ground at Aamon’s feet.
Aamon sighs, kicking out a foot and nudging Sterling’s arm with the side of his boot.
“Up,” he orders. I suck in a breath as Sterling obeys, rising first to his knees and then to his feet.
Aamon pushes off the throne, stepping up to him.
Sterling has never been the biggest of these males, but he suddenly looks so small under Aamon’s shadow. Aamon lifts his fingers to Sterling’s cheek, wiping the tears away.
“Open that disrespectful mouth of yours, Sterling.” Aamon’s words are a whisper. Meant only for Sterling, though even I can hear them clearly now, thanks to the Arcane magic running freely through me.
Sterling obeys again, and I hold my breath as Aamon lifts his palm to his mouth and tears open the flesh there.
He raises his fist in the air, using his other hand to tip Sterling’s chin back.
“Make no mistake. You do not deserve this. But this is what Evangeline wants. So you will receive it, nonetheless.”
Sterling nods, a fresh glint of a tear running down the side of his face.
A whimper slips past my lips, a sound I can’t contain as my heart breaks for hims. But Sterling has made his decision.
He’s doing this. For me, for him. For all of us?
I’m not sure of his motivation, but a steady breath through my nostrils reminds me that he walked in here of his own free will, got on his knees and begged Aamon of his own volition.
And there’s a history here I’ve only scratched the surface of.
It’s not my place to presume or insert myself.
I can only trust that Sterling knows what he’s doing. And so does Aamon.
“Don’t forget what I’ve done for you,” Aamon purrs, hand poised just above Sterling’s open mouth. “You belong to me now, Sterling. Your loyalty, your obedience? It’s mine. So take this offering and then give me an exhibition fit for a god. To show just how thankful you are.”