90
Mornon
My hand snapped closed, catching the spike just inches from my chest. I clenched it so angrily that my blood smeared its sharp, uneven surface, dripping onto the snow and the fragments of the small altar I had fallen on. Very slowly, I shifted my gaze to the tip of the stalactite.
She had aimed at my heart. My mate had aimed at my fucking heart.
She had aimed to kill me.
In disbelief, I turned my attention to Nauriel. She was so still that she appeared frozen, with a shocked expression that made her eyes look as if they had bulged out of their sockets.
We stared at each other, not even a whisper of wind to break the utter silence between us, those damned white flakes crossing the clouds formed by our breaths.
The snow . . . It wasn’t my doing. And, inexplicably, I couldn’t control it. It had started falling the moment I reappeared in the city, so dense and abundant that it had covered everything instantly, mirroring the inner armor I’d had to wear to do what was necessary.
To pursue my dream without any mercy.
To resist the strong urge to go back to my elf.
She, who had just tried to kill me.
The anger that invaded me was so scorching that the glass spike melted between my fingers, and the fiery veins running down my face burned so fiercely that, for a moment, even the tips of the front strands of my hair caught fire.
“ You . . .” I growled as I rose to my feet.
In a flash, I stood before her and seized her by the throat with my bloodied hand. Nauriel tried to stab—or cut—my arm using her power, but my darkness engulfed me, shielding me. She desperately fought to break through my barrier, making frantic noises, calling me by the name I hated on her lips.
However, she was only like a tiny ant compared to me.
She tried to pierce me with her sword, but my shadows wrapped around her wrist so tightly that she gnashed her teeth with a grunt, fighting with all her might not to let go of the hilt.
I lifted her off the ground, my mouth close to hers, my gaze digging into her. “Do you truly believe you’re on my level just because you have some magic now?” I hissed.
I threw her against the side of the threshold to my right like she was a rag doll, and the bricks shattered into countless shrapnel. In an instant, I was in the dining room with Nauriel, who had already risen to face me, a vermilion rivulet running from her hairline down to her temple.
I attacked her relentlessly, fueled by a fury I had never experienced before, not even during my fight with Calien.
Nauriel tried everything to handle me, getting up every time I knocked her down, spitting blood as I hurled her against the partitions of the various rooms of the house, which collapsed from the force of the impact.
It was of no use for her to use the powers granted to her because she was too inexperienced.
And the magic I mastered was unmatched.
Unbeatable.
Even the elf understood it at one point, since I noticed she started to try to find a way out of the house while defending herself.
I didn’t let her escape, of course, and pressed her until she was forced to retreat upstairs.
I let her run down the dark corridor without chasing her, watching her through our mental connection as she passed by the nursery’s curtain and walked through the main bedroom’s ripped one.
A grin spread across my face as she let out a horrified noise at the sight of the massacre that had taken place on the double bed.
I gave her just a fraction of a second to admire the open, nibbled flesh of the couple, still clutching their children’s little hands, and their children’s bones standing out against the dirty sheets, to fully inhale the wonderful smell of the tide of blood that had poured all around the bed.
Then I vanished and reappeared right in front of her.
Having foreseen it thanks to her damned granny’s skill, Nauriel swung a blow to cut my neck, but I tilted my head back at the last moment, just enough to prevent the blade from slicing my skin.
Or so I thought.
Because the next moment, I felt a slight tingling and the sensation of something liquid running down the hollow between my collarbones.
This time, the elf did not stare at me in shock but with sorrow mixed with solemn determination.
A primordial rage overtook me, and my invisible force slammed Nauriel against the wall with such violence that it cracked, and the plaster crumbled.
“You truly believe you can kill me,” I snarled.
With a fierce cry, she swung her hand upward, and I disappeared before the row of glass stalagmites rising from the floor impaled me.
Free from my power, Nauriel landed on her feet and blocked the strike I made after reappearing behind her.
However, she wasn’t fast enough to avoid the back fist I delivered to her next.
“ I am your mate!” I shouted so fiercely that the entire structure trembled. I pounded Nauriel with such hard blows to stop her from counterattacking, pushing her toward the glass doors ripped from their hinges. “How dare you even think you can do that! That you can live without me!”
Our blades clashed with a screech that echoed deep inside me, fueling my fury ever more.
Keeping my sword pressed against Nauriel’s, I forced her to retreat past the glass doors and pinned her against the balcony’s balustrade overlooking the large square.
She quickly summoned glass to coat her left hand’s palm and fingers, then moved it toward her blade’s tip to exert more energy to push me away.
But it was completely useless.
My physical strength was unmatched, even for an elf.
And Nauriel knew it well. I could see it in her eyes when she realized my broadsword was inexorably closing in on her throat.
“Look at me,” I ordered, in a firm tone.
The tone she couldn’t disobey.
Nauriel was so stupid that she tried anyway, shutting her eyes briefly before regaining her resolve and resuming to push my weapon back with renewed strength.
So, I pressed her even harder against the railing, trying to ignore the groan that escaped her and her thigh rubbing against my cock and mine against her pussy.
“ Look at me,” I ground out.
“ You look at me,” she replied, pinning me with a stare that unsettled me.
A stare that reached the soul I didn’t think I had.
And I was the one who obeyed her, damn it.
I looked at her like perhaps I had never done before, without hiding any sneaky intent or scheme.
And I saw myself smiling at her sincerely on that damned beach, teasing her like a silly little boy, talking with her around the bonfire, watching her sleep peacefully under the stars, foolishly proposing that we stay on that island.
I saw myself reflected in her eyes.
And gradually, I felt the fire in the veins across my face and in my irises fading away.
Nauriel slowly withdrew her hand from her blade, prompting me to realize I had stopped exerting pressure. Then she let the glass disappear from her fingers before stroking my cheek with a gentleness that devastated me.
“It’s not too late,” she whispered in a broken voice, steeped in anger and utter despair at the same time. “It will never be too late.”
A disgusting warmth radiated from my heart, and I felt the elf’s love seep into every cell of my body with its hideous light.
My breathing grew rapid as I clenched my jaw until I heard the alarming creak of my molars, fighting the overwhelming urge to lower my broadsword and fully surrender to my mate.
To kneel at her feet.
No, no, no!
The evil I embodied rose with a sound so shrill and deafening that it nearly blew my brain out. Its fangs pierced every vein, every nerve, every muscle, reminding me of what I was made of: darkness and hatred and violence and death.
Reminding me of my purpose. My destiny.
My body stiffened. My breathing barely became perceptible. My soul fell back into the oblivion it had always been banished to.
“Are you sure?” I asked Nauriel with a devious look.
The next moment, I swiftly drew the dagger from the sheath on her side with my free hand and drove it into her belly.