Chapter 27
Otherworldly Shadows
ANNA
Cold sheets touched my skin. I sat up, my hand touching my wrist where the cut had been made. There was nothing—no blood, wound, or scar.
“You healed quickly,” Blake said.
I saw him at the end of the bed and realized I was in bed.
“Where am I? Whose bed is this?” I asked.
Dark wood furniture with an ornate finish and black curtains was set against a deep red carpet. He stood at the end of the four-poster, his expression stoic.
“Mine,” he said, watching me carefully.
I stopped breathing and abruptly looked away.
“How?” I asked, touching my wrist where the cut was. “How has the wound healed already?”
He didn’t answer me.
“Where is he—Malakai?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking.
“Gone. I have taken care of it. He will not be back,” Blake said. “I am sorry that I did not get there sooner. I am arranging for Melanie to be escorted home too.”
“Melanie?” I asked, recalling my encounter with her. “Don’t.”
Blake was incredulous.
“I don’t want you to send her away.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “It’s something she said that I don’t quite understand. I’m not scared of her.”
He watched me curiously. “Fine.”
I got out of his bed, my hands shaking with frustration. "What were they doing? Everyone seems to know what’s happening here but me. Are they in some kind of cult? And do you have anything to do with it? Are they drinking blood? Is that what happened to Saryna and Isabella?"
Irritation laced his words. "You are upset."
I glared at him in dismay. "What do I have to do to get answers? Even my friends dodge truths around me now. But you—you're different. You don't seem to care if my mind wanders. You encourage it. Why is that? Why don’t you suppress my curiosity with some valid explanation like the others?”
His eyes were clouded, as if all the answers I sought were buried there. I felt odd, as if I had to go inside him to dig out a piece of myself.
“What am I doing here?” I whispered.
“You are finally asking the right question,” he said.
His presence overcame me. The gentle waves that I had come to identify as him touched my skin like an ocean breeze on a cool night.
There was something else as well—something I couldn’t identify.
“You know, don’t you?” he asked.
I tried to keep myself from trembling as his hand touched mine.
“You know what courses through your veins,” he said, tracing his fingers up my wrist, highlighting the blue line running up my forearm.
“I want you to understand, but you must unlock it yourself.
There is a way to try to force the lock.
I will not tell you what to do, but there is a barrier holding you back.
A barrier that is keeping you from what you desire.
Sometimes the best way in is to force your way to your deepest emotions," he said, letting his hand fall away.
A shiver of fear crystallized down my spine at how he seemed to read my thoughts.
"And what does that mean?"
“You need to delve deep into your most traumatic memories, to feel them, to live them once again,” he said.
I was shaking my head. “No. I won’t.”
“Anna, going there is necessary if you want to—”
“No,” I whispered, tightly shutting my eyes.
A silence spread between us as I tried to think of anything besides that night. I was too close to it now. If it drew me in deeper, I would fall into the darkness I’d let in and if I did, I might never find my way out.
A cool touch made my eyes snap open.
It was Blake, his hand on my cheek.
“Okay,” he said gently.
The anxiety was receding and the ground was stable again. I was here, in his room, with him. Not anywhere near that darkness. He didn’t move his hand away. Looking into Blake’s eyes was like looking into a steel blade.
“There are other ways to trigger extreme emotional responses,” he said, his cadence smooth and careful.
I raised my eyebrows, and his hand trailed away from my cheek. My nerves were working against me, and I had never been so aware of Blake’s presence. It was all-consuming and radiating through me. He was watchful, drinking in every detail, rendering me motionless.
“What are you trying to draw out of me?” I whispered.
He gently grasped my forearm and tugged, and I was forced to step toward him. “Why is it hard for you to accept that it is not something I can explain?”
This energy pulsing between us was growing, but that wasn’t all it was.
Everything was drawing me to him. The touch of his skin on mine, the way he parted his lips to breathe.
He was breathing more heavily than usual.
I pulled myself from his grasp, ready to leave, but it was as if my body were pulling me to him.
I didn’t want to go. Every part of me wanted to close the space between us.
It was a terrifying feeling and not rational at all, and it was beginning to take over my mind.
My one moment of hesitation was all it took.
He let go of me, and I instantly felt the loss of warmth.
“What do you suggest I do?” I whispered.
He moved behind me, his lips brushing the side of my head and the hardness of his chest grazing my back.
I trembled at how close he was. Frustrated, I turned to face him.
His eyes were flecked with a silver I’d never noticed before.
There was no mistaking what it meant. It was getting harder to breathe.
I wanted to know—not just what was going on, not just about who I was and why my life was what it was—but about him.
I wanted to know what he tasted like. Why I couldn’t breathe when he looked at me. What it felt like when he touched me.
“Come to me,” he whispered, his lips a hair’s breadth from my ear, “and I will do the rest.”
I quivered beneath his lips. His request was unexpected and as refreshing as it was enticing. He was giving me the power—the power to say no.
But that was the last thing I wanted.
I turned my head, letting my cheek trail across his lips until mine grazed his.
Feeling him so close drew his energy toward me in waves as it flooded my veins, coursing through me.
It was like a drug. Whatever he was, it couldn’t be human—no person felt like this.
I drew his bottom lip to mine, gently kissing him, desperate to have more but unsure what to do next.
I leaned closer, and a deep murmur escaped his lips. Nervous, I pulled back. When I looked up at him, his eyes were dark. I could’ve peered into them for eternity.
They slid closed and his lips pulled mine into a kiss that made my knees grow weak.
He took hold of me, pulling me against him, his arms claiming me as I allowed him full access to my mouth.
His hand controlled the arch of my back, the other behind my neck, deepening the kiss.
The back of my legs hit the bed and his hand lowered me against the surface, all while his mouth devoured mine.
With nowhere for my body to go, he pressed against me.
I held onto him, slipping my legs around his waist, taking in every sensation he was offering me.
It was overwhelming. I felt nothing but him, surrounding me, claiming me with every nip at my lip.
His labored breaths made my skin tingle, and I yearned for more.
The sensation spread throughout my entire body.
When his lips slowed, he held his forehead against mine, his lids heavy, his breathing uneven.
I was still gripping his shirt with white knuckles when he lifted his forehead from mine, the muscles in his arms taut as he pushed away from me. There was a moment when our eyes met—still lost in the induced state of our kiss—in which I’d forgotten what started all of this.
“Blake?”
I could feel it—a new and visceral sensation that took control of me. All around us, dozens of candles burst into flame. The shadows danced around us but the light was dazzling and beautiful. I was connected to them.
“Why?” I asked. “What is this?”
Blake looked down at me with a smirk. “You have found a way to it.”
His warmth, his pleasure, and his desire were nourishing something within me.
It was because of him.
His lips touched mine, teasing me with his mouth and my lips parted, wanting him to taste me.
The feelings were raw and visceral. He’d brought whatever this energy was inside of me to life, and now it was responding to him in a way I couldn’t control.
I kissed him, drawing him nearer. I was lost in him, unable to get enough, his mouth and body pressed against mine in pure ecstasy.
When he pulled his lips away, the withdrawal was nearly painful.
“Blake, please,” I said.
“Shh,” he said, resting his head beside mine, taking each of my hands and holding me beneath him. “I think we should stop.”
I took a deep breath, trying to hear reason, but it was difficult. My body was coursing with desire and my heart was pounding. This new energy thrumming within me was impossible to quell.
“I don’t want to,” I said.
He growled softly. “You certainly do not make it easy.”
I stilled, relieved that he wasn’t moving away yet, and searched for relief in my body that was feeling increasingly out of my control. This energy and my raging desire were amplifying each other and I could hardly think straight.
“Is this always like this for you? When you’re with someone?” I breathed.
Blake was silent for a moment before he answered me. “No.”
His answer both pleased and scared me. After several more moments, my body calmed to a manageable level. He stayed with me, waiting until I was ready before pulling away. Slowly, I sat up and moved beside him, but sure to keep some space.
“What is this?” I asked. “I feel heavy. Like there’s something within me that wasn’t there before.”
“It was always there,” he said. “Locked away, waiting for you to release it.”
I took a shaky breath. “It was you, though. You released it.”
He said nothing, standing up and putting more distance between us.