Chapter 27
VESSA
“Idon’t know what’s going to make him more pissed. You being threatened or missing the look on Paul’s face when you popped off. That was priceless.”
Ruffling my hair, Nell claims the barstool next to mine, the kitchen light fixture beaming on the top of her head like a halo.
“Still no word from the Circle?” she chimes.
I shake my head, chewing my lip as I watch the patrol units through the window. Cora strolls in to scavenge what’s left of the coffee and assorted breakfast pastries. She plops two cherry scones onto her plate and scowls at the coffee machine.
“Oh boy,” Nell mutters. “Cora never eats sugar. Not unless she’s stressed.”
“I can’t help it,” she whines in between bites of sticky dough. “It’s been four days. I have a right to be worried.”
“About Qinnu?” Nell huffs a laugh. “Give me a break. There’s barely any signal up there, remember? If anything, it’s probably because the grunts are slowing them down. They’ll be alright.”
Cora sets down the plate, nodding. Then she regards me for a moment. “I feel dreadful about what Qinnu said the other day. There’s no excuse for making threats like that. When that bonehead gets back, I’ll be having words with him.”
Nell snorts. “They should leave him behind. Seems like a fitting punishment.”
A small grin teases Cora’s lips.
“Sadly, it’s too late for that,” a deep timbre jests.
All three of us turn in sync. Still strapped in heavy gear, Axe walks into the kitchen.
The girls welcome him home and promptly make themselves scarce. I push out of my chair. Judging by how Axe deadpans at me, what’s about to transpire may not be pleasant.
As soon as all goes quiet, he clears his throat. “I needed to see you.”
I study him up close. Light brown stubble thickens along his mouth and jaw. The bandage on his neck is gone, revealing a bullet hole that has nearly smoothed over. Though I’m relieved at the sight, I’m annoyed at the worry it’s caused me.
“Hello, goodbye . . . normal courtesies don’t apply to you brutes, do they? You just barge on in and storm out however you like.”
Axe blinks.
My smile cracks my exasperated front. “It’s good to have you back, Commander.”
He exhales heavily and leans down to hug me. Huh. This isn’t the direction I thought it would go.
“Gods,” he drawls roughly. “You smell . . . different.”
With a cringe, my muscles tense. “In a good way?”
A hand trails down my hip. “You have no idea.”
Right. I slept on his sheets last night, where I woke with a gasp after an alarming dream of the two of us naked and tangled beneath them. His rough hands along my thighs, my breasts . . . it felt real enough that the room was sweltering as a silver beam of moonlight penetrated the darkness.
Traitor, I hissed at the orb.
A low simmer flickers deep within my core. “I thought about you while you were gone.”
Axe cups my cheeks, letting his thumb smudge my lips, testing their softness. “Did you, now?”
Would he flip, knowing that I sought pleasure in his bed? That my cries of his name echoed in the dark? Would that be enough to shield me from the consequences of concealing the truth from him?
My mouth goes dry. Not a chance. “I thought—I know there’s a decent chance you might send me away, after learning who I really am. Or better yet, kill me.”
Wistful eyes search mine desperately.
As his mouth parts, a sudden knock on the door breaks us apart. “Sorry to interrupt . . . whatever this is,” Nell says, struggling to hold a straight face. “Your sister is on the phone. You know how demanding she is when she wants updates.”
The Alpha runs a hand through his mane. “About the mission?”
“She may be a Silverback now, but she still has access to our local paper. Tukkon Motors made the front page on Sunday.”
“Of course it did,” Axe groans.
Axe’s business occupies him entirely for the rest of the day, crammed with back-to-back calls with Demi. Unfortunately, there’s still no word from Dr. Caulder, the lycan who took samples of my blood—a growing concern that irritates Maurleen immensely.
Late into the evening, Axe holds a dinner at Lupine Manor to brief the pack officials on the fallout of their mission at the Ugruk Circle.
In turn, Nell informs the group of Alpha Paul’s stunt.
I listen as they recount the events, wondering at what point someone is going to state the obvious: the Skornokovys’ task force must be compromised.
My attention rekindles when Jabir asks if Axe will be joining his sister for their annual birthday hunt the day after tomorrow. Scratching his neck, he declines. Exhaustion paints his features, bearing down on his sluggish posture.
“No wonder she gave me an earful on the phone,” Nell whispers to me. “Demi hates when people try to take a raincheck on pack traditions. This one time, she broke into the house and dragged Dom out by his—”
Qinnu’s face takes a feverish tint. His nose is still purple, and despite Cora’s best efforts to set it, the bridge remains stubbornly crooked. “I’m sorry, but are we going to just sit here and ignore the fact that we’re about to go to war over a human?”
Suddenly, my face is burning the same color. Under the table, Axe’s hand finds my knee.
“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Tesni growls.
“She’s been lying to us,” Qinnu argues. “For weeks. Weeks, when we could’ve been—"
“Stand down, Lorray.” Lightning pulses in Axe’s eyes as he cuts them off, striking down their escalating tempers. “Now is not the time for airing grievances.”
The rest of the evening is spent in strained small talk or silence.
Axe is the first to leave, stomping away without another word.
One by one, the others excuse themselves until I am left alone with a pit in my stomach, souring with thoughts that perhaps my presence here has already doomed my mate and everyone he has sworn to protect.
Axe
My feet stagger into my shadowy bedroom.
But the bourbon on my breath isn’t to blame.
It’s the smell. This isn’t the first time I’ve detected the trace of my mate in my quarters, but this—this I can almost taste.
Sweat. Jasmine. Pure desire. There, lingering on the duvet, is the smallest drop to prove it.
Kneeling beside the bed, my cock strains so tight I can’t breathe. Closing my eyes, my augment dials in, conjuring the image of her here, angelic beneath the glow of the full moon. Legs spread wide. Lips mouthing my name. Her hands, pretending they are mine. Mine.
Gods be damned.
I was wrong before, about the raspberry taste. And it’s all can think about. The feel of her tongue as it slid against mine and the sickly-sweet nectar of plums invading my senses. Now all I want is to sink my teeth into one, to feel its juices trickle down my chin.
Water pelts my shoulders under the showerhead, but I pay no mind to the scalding stream.
I take myself in my own hand over and over, chasing the thrill of what I’d fucking kill to experience right this second—wringing out every drop of pleasure between her thighs and claiming her neck with my aching teeth. Finally calling her mine.
When I collapse into bed, my arms are numb, my mind completely wiped. And just as I’d hoped, I dream of her.
In a cool chamber of cobblestone, silver chains bind me to a dais. Thunder cracks, lightning briefly illuminating the night sky. The flash startles me, and I flinch in searing pain. My hands and bare feet have been burned raw.
What the—how long have I been here? What is this place?
The smell of her grabs me the instant she steps into the room.
From the shadows, she approaches. A figure of seduction, donning a cloak of raven feathers.
Her hair tumbles unbound, lips stained black beneath a lace veil.
A dagger appears from behind her back, slashing open the ribbon.
The feathered garment puddles to the floor, along with her face covering.
When she raises her lifeless eyes, I thrash against the restraints.
“Come, children,” Vessa coos, bringing the hilt of the dagger to her wrist and slicing deep. She doesn’t flinch, only moving to the other to mirror the wound.
“No!” I cry out.
She stares at me, completely empty. The realization is a sharp knee to the gut. Those eyes . . . they aren’t of this world anymore. They can only belong to the undead. To Somnium.
A vampire scurries out of the dark corner, voraciously licking the red pools that spread along the charcoal stones. Another shoves him out of the way, opening his jaws to collect the stream with its forked tongue.
“Vessa,” I plead. “Stop this.”
She raises the blade to her sternum, burying it there.
Blood gushes in its wake, more creatures flocking towards her in a frenzy.
The vampires cling to her ankles, licking their way towards her life source.
Dragging downward, she reaches inside the cavity, pulling out a fist-shaped muscle of black and purple flesh.
My scream is cut off by an abrupt yank on the silver collar around my neck. The flesh at my throat stings as a fresh burn reopens the skin.
A sickening stench fills the air. Suffering. Decay. Fear.
“Bring it here,” a voice beckons behind me. It has a prickling energy to it, like the kiss of fire.
Her yellow eyes meet his as she ascends the steps, chest gaping hideously.
He steps forward to accept her offering.
His face I do not see, only the flesh he brings to his mouth and firmly bites into.
A sinister smile blooms across her face as she kneels, watching him devour her heart.
It’s so revolting I almost miss the dagger in her hand, twitching, taking the shape of a horned centipede.
It skitters up her pale arm, hissing as it winds itself around her neck.
The scene dissipates at the sensation of cool fingers pressed to my cheek.
What stuns me first is the tightness in my esophagus. My lungs. If I don’t wake up, they’re going to collapse. Tingling heat singes along my limbs. My arms and legs won’t budge. I wiggle my jaw—nothing. It’s as if my entire body has been cast in a concrete mold.
Nostrils flare rapidly, but all I can manage is short inhalations. Smoke. I smell smoke. Fire.
Panic threatens to implode as my eyes adjust to the dim lights.
Candles flicker on gold sconces. Massive timber beams line the ceiling.
Am I in the hallway? I retreat into my fleeting consciousness for a moment, calling on my wolf.
But I should know better than to try and reach him in this state. I’ve been cut off.
Dark locks tickle my collarbone. Is that . . . ? Fuck. She can’t see me like this. Gods, not like this.
Vessa’s features come into focus as her fingers brush away the hair sticking to my forehead.
I study the details of her face, no doubt sculpted by the goddesses of Sempiternus.
Someone intended for the ruler of the Underworld would have to be this beautiful.
As tempting as the first time he snatched a mortal from our realm.
Over her shoulder, a shadow moves. A pale hand extends, black fingertips stroking the back of her head. I glance up to see yellow eyes glowing beneath the Blood Master’s dreaded helmet. He’s here.
Though it’s futile, I flail desperately against the confines of my inoperable body. I have to stop him. My eyes dart back and forth, urging her to turn around. Turn the fuck around, Vessa!
Her brows knit. Her soft caress travels downward, gripping my shoulder. Damn it, I can’t hear what she’s saying. Whatever it is, she’s not getting through to me. And if I can’t get through to her, we’re both going to die.
She takes my hand, flattening the palm against her chest. Breathe, I think she’s mouthing.
Focus on my voice. But I can’t. The only thing that’s remotely within my grasp is her scent.
So, I pull as much of it into my lungs as I can manage.
When I release through my nose, I feel it.
The relaxed thump of her pulse. The calmness she is channeling to me.
Blinking, I scan the space behind her. The door to the Luna’s quarters has been propped open.
No one else is there. Only her. She’s safe.
Humming along my skin, I recognize her heartline and grasp it like a raft.
It allows my jaw to creak open and draw in a small puff of air.
Then another, finding a slow controlled release, eyes never leaving hers.
On the third exhale, her voice finally breaks through. “Nothing’s going to hurt you.”
My mouth parts, lungs expanding to their full capacity. I gape at her like a man who’s been miraculously reformed.
“Fire?” I croak. Silverfire, my voice is pathetic.
“No. No fire,” she assures, threading her fingers through my hair.
The next gulp of air is too much. My throat is torrid and parched. It expels as a strangled cough.
“Small breaths,” she whispers. Her gaze flicks to my feet. To my exposed thighs. For fuck’s sake, if I was going to sleepwalk, would it have killed me to at least put something on over my boxers?
Yes, my wolf answers.
Nice of you to finally join us, I grumble back at him. At least now I can wiggle my toes. Move my head side to side.
Vessa leans over me and cups the back of my head, as if to tilt me.
Though she’s in a thick sweater, the contact of her breasts stokes a feverish ache in my muscles.
The sultry smell of her hits me full force, along with the rest of my senses.
Half delirious, my inner beast propels me straight into a seated position, gripping her narrow hips and leaving our mouths an inch apart.
Her hands come to my shoulders, her shallow exhale cool against my chin. “Would you like to stay with me the rest of the night?”
The resounding rumble in my chest is enough to convince me that it’s a terrible idea. Obsession has infected my wolf like a greedy parasite, feeding off my weakening restraint.
Vessa shudders. “Axe?”
Claws rake beneath my sternum. My eyes—they must’ve changed. I didn’t realize the beast had gained so much ground. I glance down at her waist. My claws have sprouted. Damn it.
Frantically, I roll out from underneath her. “I can’t.” I bolt back into my bedroom, snatching the bottle of whiskey on my desk with a swear. I down the rest of it before it’s too late to reverse the transformation.