Chapter 43
My eyes flutter open and I’m surprised to find I’m back in my bedroom at the clubhouse.
Last I remember, I was in a lust-filled daze, falling asleep amidst my boys in the silken sheets of the red rooms. Memories of last night’s activities flood my brain as color stains my cheeks.
I bite down on my lip as I pull the sheet up to clutch against my bare chest. I lost count of how many times I came, but the way Aamon, Sterling, and Quinn tended to me .
. . that would be seared in my memory forever.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Sterling hums as he drapes an arm around my middle and pulls me against him. I hum, cherishing the sweetness of this moment. I nestle back, grinning at his solid form behind me as he buries his face in my hair and inhales deeply.
“How did we get back here?” I ask, giggling when he starts kissing my neck.
“Aamon called for a car. Carried you out of Bloodlust sound asleep and rode with you back here.” His palm flattens against my stomach and works its way up my middle till he’s at my breast. My head lolls back against him and I fail to stifle a moan as he starts playing with my nipple.
“Wait.” I slap his hand away, turning on my back so I can see him. “I’m naked,” I state plainly.
Sterling picks up the sheet, looking down at the curves and swells of my body. “Well, sure enough, Angel, you are!” He feigns surprise, a smirk slowly curving against his lips.
I roll my eyes, pushing playfully at him as I lean back against the headboard. “I mean, where are my clothes? I lost them last night . . .” I shriek as the realization hits me. “Did Aamon carry me out of Bloodlust naked?”
Sterling’s smirk turns into a full-blown smile as he pops up on his elbow and watches me melt in mortification. “Come on now, Evangeline. We aren’t monsters. He wrapped a blanket around you.”
I peek out from my hands that are now covering my face. “Yes, because that makes it better.”
Sterling walks his fingers up my middle, through the valley of my breasts, until his hand is at my chin, guiding my wrists down and away from my face.
“Next time, I’ll be sure to tell Aamon to skip the extra step then.
” He smiles up at me and the silver in his eyes gleams. No matter how embarrassed I feel at the moment, I cannot look away from him.
From the way he’s looking at me. As if I am his entire world.
He leans in, pushing himself up as he tucks my hair behind my ear.
He runs his thumb down the shell of my lobe before wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and pulling me to his lips.
The kiss is slow at first, delicate and intimate in a way I rarely have gotten to experience with any of them.
I drink it in like a fine wine, like the richest blood, savoring every last drop.
Then I feel him smile against my lips and it’s the only warning I get before he pulls me down and shifts his weight on top of me. I squeal, the sound turning into laughter as his lips tickle my skin. His joy is infectious and I can’t contain myself, joining him in this bubble of absolute bliss.
The door bursts open, throwing us both out of the moment we were making for ourselves.
My head whips to the door as Aamon stalks in.
I smile when I see him, but it’s short-lived as I notice the look in his eyes.
Something’s wrong. His face is hardened, his eyes dark.
Gone is any hint of the male who took care of me last night.
“Aamon,” I breathe out, brows furrowed as I try to understand what could have possibly made him so angry.
“Up,” he orders, stomping through the room. “Now.” He grabs me by the arm, ripping back the sheets and exposing my body to the chilled air.
“Aamon, what is this?” Sterling asks, hackles raised. He jumps out of the bed, slipping on his jeans that must have been discarded on the floor.
Aamon doesn’t answer, just pulls me till I’m on my feet, then drags me over to the dresser. He starts digging through drawers, throwing clothes at me. “Get dressed.” Then he turns to the closet on the other side of the bedroom, reaching up into the top shelf and pulling out a duffel bag.
“Are we going somewhere?” I ask, pulling the tank top he gave me over my head. He seems rushed, frazzled. And his entire demeanor has set my teeth on edge.
“Not we.” He drops the duffel bag on the bed before finally making eye contact with me. “You.”
My heart bottoms out, my skin going ice cold. “What?”
“Your time with the Blood Order has come to an end. Pack your things and get out.” His tone is as even as glass. There’s no emotion in his words. No hint of sarcasm or regret. Nothing but hollow, empty orders.
“You can’t be serious.” Sterling laughs, a halfhearted sound because he and I both know by the way Aamon is standing there, waiting for me to obey, that he definitely is.
“Aamon, she just got here. What happened to everything you said last night? To this!” Sterling gestures between us.
He can say whatever he wants, fight as hard as he wants.
But I can see in Aamon’s eyes that his words are true.
Because it’s the same look my father had in his eyes when he drove me out of the city and dumped me for the ghouls to consume.
Aamon steps forward, pushing past me to the dresser, and starts throwing my things in the duffel on the bed, not even waiting for me to obey.
“Why?” I whisper, tears pricking the back of my eyes.
Aamon finishes ransacking my drawers and turns to the bed, shoving everything hastily inside the bag. The sudden sound of the zipper grates my ears, making me flinch. He stoops to the floor beside the bed, snagging the pair of boots he gave me and holding them out for me to take.
“Because I’ve seen and tasted my fill. I don’t need anything more from you.”
His words break me, shatter me into a million pieces. I want to scream, to yell at him that I know he’s lying—that what we have together can’t be fake. That I feel the call of his blood in my bones. But before I can form words, he’s grabbing hold of my arm again and dragging me out the door.
“Aamon!” Sterling shouts, coming after us.
But Aamon doesn’t stop, not till we're in the common area and he’s shoving me towards the door.
I stumble forward, falling gracelessly onto the old weathered floor.
I’m crying now, fat angry tears running down my cheeks.
And when I lift my head, I find Zeke standing before me, arms crossed over his chest.
Sterling stops to help me up, but is spinning on Zeke fast, throwing accusations his way.
“What did you do?” Sterling calls out, charging towards him.
But I’m not naive. Aamon is the leader here.
There’s nothing Zeke could say or do to persuade Aamon to get rid of me. Not unless he already wanted to.
Sterling turns on Aamon when Zeke refuses to answer him. I tense, worried that Aamon may fight back, may not let Sterling push him. “You can't do this. She's one of us!”
“You will not tell me what I am allowed to do, Sterling. You forget your place, the debt you owe me.” The corner of his lips tip up, revealing his fangs. “If I want her gone, then she’s gone.”
Sterling’s tawny skin turns red as he faces off with Aamon, anger practically seeping from his pores. “If she goes, then I go,” he says at last, the words roiling with a quiet fury.
Aamon steps up, dropping the duffel bag on the floor, pulling my attention down. More bags are already beside Zeke. He’d known this. Planned it, even.
“So be it.” Aamon's gaze cuts over to Zeke, still standing by the door. “And you?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
“Where Sterling goes, I go,” Zeke replies. They nod at each other and I’m briefly hit with the overwhelming feeling that there’s more in that gesture than I could possibly understand.
“I won’t leave.” I shake my head, my voice weak. “I belong here, Aamon. You know it. I don’t know what’s going on, but this can’t be what you really want—”
“Enough.” And it’s not just a word but a command. My blood bends to his will.
My anger turns rabid as I try to fight the magic forcing me to obey him.
He takes his time moving past Sterling, stepping up to me.
“You will go with Sterling. You will leave the ungoverned district. Leave Requiesse. And you will not return unless I myself bring you back.” I whimper at his words, trying my hardest to stand tall before him, when all I want to do is fall apart.
He leans in, his breath teasing the side of my face as he adds, “And I can promise you, Angel, I won’t.
Forget me, forget this place. And get out. ”
He pulls back, arms folded over his chest as he waits for the bloodbond to force me into obedience. My arms and legs shake as I resist the magic, his blood in my own fighting to subdue my will. “I can’t forget you Aamon.” I shake my head, fresh tears spilling past my lashes. “We’re bloodbound.”
Something flashes in his dark, lifeless eyes. It’s only a moment but it’s there. And I cling to it for all it’s worth. He refuses to respond, refuses to fight for me. “Ezekiel,” he says instead. And then Zeke’s firm arm is wrapping around my middle and hauling me into the air.
“No!” I scream, banging my fists against his muscles. It does little to deter him as he drags me through the door without a second thought. My eyes search frantically for something, anything, to break his hold on me. But it's no use. Aamon’s blood is still battling inside me, forcing me to obey.
I catch movement behind Aamon and my eyes go wide as Quinn steps forward. “Quinn,” I plead. “Stop this. Do something!”
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t even try to help. Just looks away, eyes heavy with grief. “I’m so sorry, Angel.”
“Please,” I beg. I don’t care how much of a scene I’m making. “I don’t have anywhere else to go. Please, Aamon. Don’t do this!”
Zeke passes through the entrance to the clubhouse and into the sunlight. I shriek at the feel of it on my skin, the air knocked from my lungs as I try and swallow the pain.
“Aamon, at least let us wait till tonight to leave,” Sterling presses, still fighting to change his mind. “The sun is up. She’s too fresh to be out like this.”
“Then you better drive fast,” Aamon warns. And the vicious look of his near black eyes is the last thing I see before Zeke swings me around and lands me hard atop his bike.
“Sterling, let's go!” Zeke calls out, sliding into his place in front of me on the bike. He has my duffel slung over his shoulder, ready to rev. I turn desperately to lay my eyes on Sterling, to make sure he’s here with me.
I breathe a sigh of relief as I see him stumble up to his own bike, strapping down the other bag on the back. He’s frazzled, wide-eyed and flushed as he fumbles with the clasp. He gets the bag secured and looks up, finding my eyes.
“Sterling, what is happening?” I whisper. My voice is uneven, shaky. My whole world has been turned upside down. Again. And I don’t know how I can survive it another time.
“I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “But I promise I will stay with you. Okay? We'll figure this out together.”
I nod, trying to wipe away the tears from my eyes.
“Keep up,” Zeke orders. It's the only warning I get before Zeke is peeling out of the parking lot. I whip my head around, anger and grief raging inside me. I need to see him, need to see them. One last time.
My eyes search frantically, and for a moment I fear it’s too late.
That they’ve gone back inside and left me for good.
But just as I’m about to give up hope, as Zeke turns the corner onto the main road, I find Aamon’s dark hair and eyes beside Quinn’s bright, blue ones.
They are two sides of the same coin, light and dark beside one another.
One hardened and emotionless as he watches me go, the other tearstained and regretful as he follows the orders of his leader.
And just like that, they disappear. Replaced by the rush of deserted streets and concrete buildings.
I bury myself against Zeke, not caring that he hates me.
Not caring what cruel things he may say to me at this show of vulnerability.
Because all I can see is them, standing on that porch and ordering me away.
And despite how many good memories we had, how many wonderful moments we shared, I know that image is what will be burned into my mind. Forever.