Chapter 50
Laurie
My heart was breaking. It was a statement which, in any other context, would be a sappy, overdramatic thing to say, but this time it was true.
I could feel it. Shards splintering in my chest, slicing me up from the inside.
My heart was breaking, and it was all my fault for leaving it so vulnerable in the first place.
Come home.
The words pulsed behind my eyes like a curse, and the urgency grew with every violent thud of my fracturing heart.
The organization that had taken so much from me was still here—and fully capable of taking more.
They had threatened to carve up the only good thing I’d managed to find in my two short years of freedom.
River.
She was kissing me. Kissing me like she knew what was coming. Like she knew I was going to leave. I kissed her back with equal force, equal pained desperation, equal desire to explore every inch of her before my forty-eight hours were up.
I had time. Not a lot, but enough. Enough for one last, perfect night wrapped in her arms, memorizing the sound of her heartbeat and the way the firelight painted gold in her eyes. I fought in vain to hold back tears that suddenly pricked at my own.
River wiped them away, littering my damp cheeks with kisses, sliding her fingers through my hair with a reverence I did not deserve.
Even now, she held me like I was fragile, like I wasn’t the one about to shatter her heart.
That wouldn’t do. I could not accept the delicate care with which she handled me.
I wanted more, I wanted all of her. I wanted to give her all of me—while I still had the chance. I wanted her fingers digging in my chest so she could hold my heart in her hands and know that I loved her. Even if I couldn’t say it. Even if I couldn’t admit it to myself.
When her mouth brushed soft and sensual across my cheek, I gripped her face between my hands and pulled her into another forceful kiss.
I wanted rough, grasping affection; I wanted our bodies melding into one.
I wanted to commit every inch of her to memory, render her in perfect clarity in my mind.
It would be a memory I clung to forever, no matter what was in store for me.
I dug my nails into her shoulders, back arching beneath her while my tongue devoured her mouth.
River coiled a hand in my hair and the other snaked down to my hips, gripping tight—possessive—swallowing my quiet, pleading moans.
When she finally pulled away I came up gasping, clinging to her like the lifeline that she was.
Clinging to the knowledge that no matter what happened, she was mine.
Ignoring the pain of knowing that soon, I’d have to let her go.
Her hands slid under my shirt and I lifted my arms. I let her cast aside the layers of fabric between us until there was nothing but hot, searing skin.
River stripped above me and cast her own clothes aside, mouth returning to mine with fierce urgency, like she wasn’t content to waste a single moment.
The fire crackled and popped in the grate, throwing flickering sparks across the stone floor, and we seamed together, pale bodies lit up in the orange glow. I curled my arms around her—groaned at the sensation of our chests pressed close, heartbeats aligning to the same rhythmic pulse.
When River’s hand dipped down between us, blunt nails dragging lines of fire down my stomach, she found me wet and wanting, pulsing with desire.
When her fingers curled at my entrance, pressing into me while her thumb flicked lightly over my clit, that desire doubled.
Tripled. Set us both alight. I moaned into her shoulder and my hips picked up a frantic rhythm, bucking against her hand when she tried to take things slow.
I didn’t want slow—I wanted blinding, blissful euphoria.
That’s exactly what she gave me. She bit down on my bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, while her fingers worked me to a screeching release. I tasted iron on my tongue and I wanted her teeth on me again. I wanted her to leave her mark. I wanted something to remember her by.
Evidence that she’d been real, that she’d been mine.
I reached out to grip the nape of her neck and guided her mouth to my throat. I tilted my head to get the point across, pleading with my eyes, with every breathy exhale.
River hesitated, pulling back slightly despite my hand on her neck coaxing her closer. “Laurie, are you sure—”
“I want this,” I interrupted her, and my voice came guttural and hoarse, threaded through with a debilitating need. “I want you—all of you. Please, River.”
She hesitated, fangs flickering behind parted lips. “If you feel faint—”
“I’ll say so.” I offered a small, brave smile that did nothing to mask the urgency in my tone.
I ground my hips up against hers, and she groaned.
Her head dipped closer to my neck, lips hovering over my frantic pulse.
A tremor passed through her, and it reverberated through me—an endless feedback loop.
Slowly, she angled her lips over that sensitive strip of skin beneath my ear, breath washing hot down the column of my throat. She paused once more—hesitated—then pressed the faintest kiss to the spot before sinking her fangs in.
I gasped. My hand at her nape clenched tighter.
The momentary sting blossomed into a spreading warmth, raw and intimate.
Visceral in its intensity. River’s fingers tightened on my waist, holding me secure.
Each draw of arterial blood felt careful, reverent, dredging moans from my lips.
The room seemed to tilt, not in dizziness but in focus.
I felt her heartbeat, heard the fire crackle. My entire body was steeped in bliss.
I let my head loll to the side and I let her drink from me, I trusted her to know when to stop. A million emotions roiled in my chest but fear was not one of them. I wasn’t afraid of her. Her claws and her teeth and her glowing ochre eyes were beautiful to me.
River pulled back sooner than I expected, and I gasped again at the sudden extraction of her fangs.
She licked the light trickle of blood from my throat, nuzzling into my neck and sealing the punctures with a flick of her tongue.
A wave of languid heat washed over me. My head felt light and airy, roused by the primal hunger in her gaze.
We didn’t stop there. Stars were bursting bright behind my eyes and River kept going, snaking down to bury her head between my legs and lap at my center like it was ambrosia to her.
I writhed in place, pushing cushions off the couch.
My voice rang around the room while she licked me to overstimulation.
When I looked down, caught her heavy-lidded eyes watching me twitch, the want in her gaze was overwhelming.
I wanted to give as well as I got, so that’s what I did. I chucked all of my shame and hesitation out the window and jerked upright. With a hand on her chest, I rearranged our positions until River was the one flat on her back, head hanging off the armrest while I hovered over her.
Sure, I had no idea what I was doing. But when I littered kisses down her bare stomach, when she parted her legs to welcome me, and her hands reached down to sweep back my hair, it didn’t matter.
When I settled between her thighs and dragged my lips down that cool, soft skin—when I dipped my head lower and tasted her—she was all that mattered to me.
River’s sighs were soft, but they filled my ears, stoked me onward. I flicked my tongue at her clit, dipped it deeper—prying through slick folds, relishing the taste of her—figuring it out as I went, until coaxing moans from her lips became second nature. Until she was all I could taste on my own.
Her voice hitched and her hands in my hair cinched tighter.
Stray strands escaped from her grasp and fell over my eyes.
Through them I watched her eyes fly open.
I tracked the slope of her jaw as it jutted out, her lips parting with a breathy moan.
When she came on my tongue I held her steady, coiling tight arms around her thighs.
She rode the waves of an orgasm with her spine curving off the couch, rolling hips following my mouth.
Eventually, she collapsed, gasping in breath while I rested my head on her stomach. The rhythm of her heartbeat thrummed against my ear, a steady counterpoint to the fire’s soft crackle.
For a fragile stretch of minutes we said nothing—just floated in the hush, limbs loosely tangled.
My throat ached where her teeth had punctured, but it was a pleasant, welcomed pain.
It made me feel vibrantly alive, anchored to the moment and aware of every slight twitch of her body entwined with mine.
River’s fingers combed through my hair in idle strokes that made my eyelids droop. I leaned into the touch and said nothing. If I didn’t speak, if I didn’t shatter this moment with my words, maybe time would stop and I could stay here forever.
Wishful thinking, my brain whispered. I shut my eyes.
Eventually, River’s hand stilled on my head. “Laurie,” she murmured, and I felt her heavy inhale against my cheek, “what are you planning?”
My pulse skipped, but I kept my eyes closed. I forced my mind closed too. “What do you mean?”
“Laurie.” River threaded a lock of hair behind my ear, stroked her fingers over the puncture wounds on my throat. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing.” It was hard to lie to her, but I forced the words out all the same. “Nothing… yet.”
River sighed and I heard the skepticism in it, the quiet ache. Her fingers resumed their gentle petting, carding through my hair. “I want to believe you.”
I finally forced myself to look up, meeting her wide-eyed, searching gaze. I summoned every ounce of sincerity I could manage, even though it twisted like a knife in my chest.
“Really,” I said, praying my voice didn’t crack. It came out rasping and strained. “I’m not going to do anything stupid. I won’t vanish into the night.” The lie tasted like ash on my tongue. “I promise.”
River studied me for another long moment—vampire senses probably detecting every erratic beat of my heart. But she only nodded, tugging me higher to bury her head in my neck, lips pressing gently to the mark she’d left on me. The scar I would cherish forever.
“Okay.”
Later, while River drowsed heavily against my shoulder, I stared at the ceiling and contemplated my next—possibly final—move. The fire had dimmed in the grate, slowing from a crackling roar to a few simmering embers. The room grew cold, frosty, pushing up goosebumps on my cooling skin.
River had kept her eyes open for as long as she possibly could.
I knew she’d been hoping I’d pass out before her.
I knew she wouldn’t let herself rest until she knew that I was too.
But she was exhausted, I had seen it. The fatigue was obvious in every slight droop of her eyelids.
Eventually, uneasy and against her own will, she’d drifted off.
I remained wide awake, staring down the forked highway laid out in front of me. I had a lot to think about. I had a choice to make.
The letter from the organization had revealed a lot, probably more than they had intended.
The note was polite, matter-of-fact. They’d used my name, not my facility code.
It told me that they wanted to make a good impression, they wanted to prove that I’d be treated better, treated like a person—if I went back to them of my own free will.
It also told me I was important to them.
Important enough to play this shady game of cat and mouse.
They knew if they took me back by force I’d fight them for the rest of my life.
But if they laid out the perfect bait, offered me a deal I couldn’t refuse, I’d come willingly.
They were banking on that. Banking on my love for the woman beside me.
So I contemplated my options.
The first one: to stay, and fight. To try to live like River so desperately wanted me to.
To try to picture the future I wasn’t sure even she could see.
But doing that would mean letting the organization target her coven—target her.
I couldn’t allow that. The second option stared me dead in the face.
The original plan. Meeting my end at the barrel of a gun.
Both options would leave River wounded.
So I chose the impossible third: protect her, no matter the cost. The letter said come willingly and the coven stays unharmed.
If that was a lie, at least I’d be on the inside—I could give the coven the upper hand they needed.
And if the letter was sincere, and the organization wanted me, and only me—If they truly intended to leave River alone…
well, one last reckless action was worth saving her life.
River murmured in her sleep, arm tightening around me like she could sense my resolve. My throat closed, my heart cracked. I was terrified, but my mind was made up. I turned, slowly—careful not to wake her—and brushed a kiss to her forehead. I whispered a promise she would never hear.
“I won’t let them touch you.”
River answered with a sigh, fast asleep and unaware of the small, comfortable life we’d built crashing down around us.
My eyes darted to the window, to the milky blue sky bleeding gold as dawn approached on the horizon.
I could spare a few more minutes. I could lie here with her, hold and be held, and pretend for a little while longer that this could last forever.
I could kiss her eyelids and stroke her hair, run my palm down her spine and carve that curve into my memories.
I could take my time padding through the quiet house I’d come to call home.
I could inspect every odd trinket and ornament, dip my fingers in the koi pond, and listen to the water trickling down the stream.
I could follow that stream to the guest room.
I could slip inside and fetch my gun from the top shelf of the wardrobe where River had left it.
And then I would go—alone—to end this, so that she could live to see the future she so desperately tried to show me. It was the only path forward, the only possible option.
A final, resigned, act of love.