Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
Remain defiant. Even until the end.
CELINE
I sink deep into the squat, making sure my chest stays up and my knees don’t overextend. The tug on my thighs and glutes is familiar and reassuring. Ninety-nine. One hundred.
Twenty burpees come next. As my heart rate picks up, I focus on the cool, smooth texture of the rock floor against my palms.
I’m alive.
I’m making progress.
They’re alive.
They’re . . . Fuck, this is where the whole mental and physical exercise falls apart.
I drop to my belly and rest my cheek on my hands.
I’m not so fussy that I won’t touch the floor to work out, but I’m not about to rub my face on it. Nothing about Riven’s nonexistent cleaning regime leads me to believe that would be a good idea. After a good mopping, maybe.
No, Celine. Find a better coping mechanism.
A strand of hair falls in front of my face, and I sigh.
Attempting this bond with Luca is a no-brainer to me, and his resistance stings.
I can admit that to myself. The way I see it, it’s the same as when Alistair was blood-sick and I stuck my wrist in his mouth.
I didn’t know the full implications then either, but even if I had, it wouldn’t have changed my decision.
I’m a decisive person. I follow my gut, and it rarely steers me wrong. Beyond that, I trust Luca. We love each other—there’s no part of me that doubts that—so why doesn’t he trust himself? Maybe it’s you he doesn’t trust.
I do burpees until my panting drowns out the unwelcome thought.
The binding sounds permanent. Is that why he’s worried? If he’s not sure about being with me forever, I would understand that, but we’re already locked in the blood circle with Alistair. Even if our relationships fell apart, there’s no reality where Luca or I or even Ciprian would let Ali starve.
I’m not scared of forever. Only its opposite.
I don’t want to lose any of them. Being forced to grieve again—that’s my real fear.
If I could enter into a magical agreement with all four of them, I would do it. My blood? Take it. Pain? I’m ready. Rejection, though? I didn’t expect that. Not from Luca.
Is this how Malach felt after I left? Like fighting my father’s rule was too daunting for me, and he wasn’t enough to make it worth it? Fuck. That wasn’t my intention. I knew I wasn’t strong enough to fight S’lach and win. But I made Malach lose me so I wouldn’t lose him in a worse way.
And now he’s slipping away all over again.
His quiet isn’t watchful anymore; it’s absent. And the headache excuse? I mean, I believe he had one. Any idiot could see he was in real pain, but angels don’t collapse after a day or two without water. Something else is going on. Something he doesn’t want to tell me.
And I can’t even get mad about it, because I left him. Snap out of it. This isn’t helpful.
Groaning, I spread my fingers wide and do a push-up. One. Two. Six. Twelve. I do push-ups until my biceps beg me to stop. Then I do more, pushing myself off the floor until my trembling muscles rebel.
They collapse. I brace for my chest to hit the dirty floor, but it never does.
Strong hands grip my hips and tug me upright. Long, lean fingers slide under my shirt, and I wince. It’s plastered to my sweaty skin.
“What’s next?” Alistair asks. “Jumping jacks? Walking lunges? I’m ready, angel.”
I force a laugh and shake my arms out. “I think I’m done.”
He looks me over carefully. “Only if you’re sure.”
“Uh huh.” My eyes roll. “As if that wasn’t your plan all along.”
“Me?” He presses his hand to his heart. “I never plan. I go with the flow.”
I blink at him. “Are you drunk?”
“I wish.” Alistair tugs me down on the couch. I’m so sweaty, my arms and legs stick to it, making me wince.
“Do you think this couch is made from dead monster skin?” I rub my hand over the leather cushion, feeling for gods know what. Spikes, maybe? Or a sightless eye socket.
Alistair sniffs the leather and gasps.
I yank my hand back. His sense of smell is much stronger than mine. If he got a whiff of dead monster, I’m going to lose it. “What? Do you smell something?”
Grinning, he tugs me into his lap. “It smells like a couch to me.”
“Ali, I’m all sweaty,” I complain as he buries his face in my neck.
“I know. You smell delicious.”
I don’t believe him, but if he wants to snuggle while I’m sweaty, that’s his choice. I relax into his chest and try to drown out my lingering negative thoughts. “I’m not sure I want to talk about it,” I say. “But thank you for being here.”
Alistair hums and tightens his grip on me, like he thinks someone might try to snatch me away at any moment. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
“Is Luca okay?” I ask quietly.
“He’s been in the shower for an hour.”
“The hot water doesn’t last that long.”
Ali sighs. “Exactly.”
“Ciprian?”
“Sitting on the bathroom floor, telling him stories. Each one more outlandish than the last.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You two divided and conquered. How did you decide? Rock, paper, scissors?”
“Casanell didn’t want to exercise.”
That makes me laugh—a real, deep belly laugh that hurts my abs. Some of the stress leaves my body, like air escaping from an overfull balloon.
“He confronted Luca, you know,” Ali says.
I lift my head to look into his eyes. “When?”
“After you left, before Malach fell. Luca was panicking, fixating on all the ways he could hurt, maim, or kill you. Ciprian got fed up, so he tackled him, kissed him while he was fighting the basilisk, and swallowed a mouthful of venom to prove his point.”
My jaw drops. “And it was fine?”
Alistair nods. “He was testing a hypothesis: Luca’s basilisk won’t hurt those it considers his.”
“Thank the gods he was right,” I mutter. “I’ve always thought that, but Luca is stubborn.”
“You should have seen Luca’s face.” Ali smirks until the tips of his fangs peek out. “I thought his head might explode.”
“I’m sure Ciprian loved that.”
“He was pleased.” Lips curled, Alistair’s blue eyes soften. His feelings are written all over his face, and I press a kiss to his lips.
“He’ll forgive you,” I whisper. “He’s stubborn too, but he’ll come around.”
“We’ll see.” Ali drags his lips over my neck. “Celine, you know that Luca’s disconnect from his monster is the problem, right? It has nothing to do with you.”
“I get it up here.” I tap my head, then shrug. “But my heart doesn’t understand the difference.”
Alistair bends his head to kiss my chest, nuzzling the fabric over my heart like he can make it all better with his touch alone. And for now, he does.
He’s warm and solid beneath me, and I can’t get enough. The feel of him, the intense way he watches me—my heart skips a beat.
I grab his blue-black hair, pull his head up, and kiss him for real. Slow, drugging drags of my lips against his. A hint of tongue. His hands curl possessively around my waist as we make out.
Our chemistry is always strong, but this is different.
Connected on a primal level, my body moves with his as if we’ve done this a million times over a hundred different lifetimes.
But it’s more than chemistry. Ali doesn’t fit with me like a puzzle piece or a well-organized drawer, he’s top-shelf tequila or bass bumping against my skin while I dance.
All gas, no brakes—and I fucking love it. I want him. Gods, I think I’ll always want him.
“I could kiss you forever, angel.”
I drop my lips to his neck. “Then do it.”
He stiffens against me, and I grin. I love testing his control. Right now, it’s all he can do not to throw me face down on the couch and fuck me into the cushions. Since that wasn’t his original plan, he’ll fight himself, and I’ll get to enjoy his struggle.
His fingers spasm against my hips. Little grunts escape his mouth, and I hide my smirk. Alistair Ashbourne may want to make out on the couch with his girlfriend, but his vampire wants to make me scream. I love it.
My fingers sink into his hair. It’s getting long, and it feels like pure silk. I grip it tightly and use my hold to move his head where I want it.
“I love it when you’re rough with me,” he groans.
I roll my hips over his growing erection. “I love seeing how far I can push you,” I admit.
“Anywhere you want,” he says. “I’ll give you anything you want.”
“You,” I breathe, nipping his bottom lip. “I want you, Ali.”
“I’m already yours.”
Our mouths collide again—lips roaming, hands exploring, until the couch dips to our right. “Don’t stop on my account,” Ciprian grumbles. “I took a bad fucking deal. Alistair got to dry hump on the couch. You know what I got? A bar of soap thrown at my head.”
I giggle. “Did it hit you?”
“Of course not.” Ciprian sprawls next to us, propping his hands behind his head. His blond hair is damp from the steam of the shower. “I know how to duck.”
I open my mouth to tease him more, but Alistair isn’t having it. He growls and pulls my head down, kissing me greedily until I’m boneless in his lap and my lips are puffy and tender.
I forgot about his jealous streak. So hot.
When he scrapes his fangs against the side of my neck, my breath catches. “Are you thirsty?” I ask. “Because I’m happy to be your snack.”
He freezes with his lips against my pulse, then swallows roughly. “Just a bit. Grind on me, angel.”
I rock my hips, choking on a moan as his fangs pierce my neck. Desire floods my body, taking my arousal from a simmer to a boil in seconds. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the blinding pleasure that comes from Alistair’s bite, but I hope I don’t.
It’s like the first time every time.
Frantic, I rub my pussy on his cock, almost relieved by the layers of clothing between us. They’re keeping me from coming too fast. Barely. If he doesn’t stop soon, I’m going to explode right here in Riven’s living room, where he could walk in and catch us at any time.
His face appears in my mind. Blank with shock. Would it glitch like it does when he’s overwhelmed?
My orgasm crashes over me. Pleasure batters every nerve ending, and I cling to Alistair, one hand tugging his hair while the other squeezes his shoulder.
He growls into my neck, bucking against me wildly as he comes.
“It’s the small decisions that haunt me the most,” Ciprian mutters. “Skip sit-ups one time and end up with stage-five blue balls. Etch this on my tombstone: here lies Ciprian Casanell, dead from an erection lasting longer than four hours.”
Alistair pulls his fangs out of my neck and licks the wound closed. “I let you pick first,” he says. “It’s not my fault you picked wrong.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Ciprian yawns. “Just so you know, Riven walked by.”
A wave of something rolls over me. It’s not shame exactly, but it is agitating.
“When?” I demand, holding myself still and resisting the urge to squirm in Ali’s lap.
“Umm, I didn’t check my watch, hot wings. I think it was around the time you were rocking back and forth on Alistair’s dick while making those tasty little mewling noises.”
“Take that back,” I gasp. “I do not mewl.”
Ali’s lips twitch. “I’m going to change pants.”
He tries to stand, but I shove him flat on the couch instead. “Not until you tell Ciprian I don’t make that sound.”
“Your sounds are perfect, angel, almost as lovely as you are.” He kisses my fingers one at a time, and I yank them away.
“I touched the floor while I worked out.”
“I don’t care,” he growls.
“You should,” I insist.
Ciprian nods. “She’s right, you know. Floor fingers aren’t a good snack. Dripping pussy is better.” He grins at me and raises his eyebrows. “Did the bloodsucker tell you how brave I was earlier?”
I pin Ali in place by straddling his chest and grab Ciprian’s face with both hands. “That was risky,” I tell him. “And very hot. You should have thought it through, but I’m glad you didn’t.”
“He’s scared, Celine.” Ciprian’s brow pinches. “You’ll have to be gentle with him.”
“He can speak for himself,” Luca says.
All three of us turn to stare.
Hair wet from the shower, Luca’s whiskey-soaked hazel eyes are haunted.
I could sulk about his reaction and make it about me, but when I ran away after Luca told me he loved me, he didn’t push. He was upset, and he still met me where I was. That’s the kind of partner I want to be for him too.
“I’m going to do some scouting,” Riven says, appearing at the edge of the room like a ghost. “They’re searching the forest. I need to get a better look to determine their progress and how they’re patrolling the portal.”
“I’ll go with you.” Ciprian kisses me, then stands. “I’m climbing the walls, and I can keep us hidden.”
Alistair stiffens beneath me, his fingers flexing around my hips. “I’ll come too.”
I climb off him so he can get up. “Make sure you’re back before the eclipse,” I tell Riven. “Neither of them can handle the cold.”
He nods, and Ciprian groans. “That makes me feel like a total loser. Careful with the pussy ass demon, he might get a runny nose.”
“I’m not worried about your nose,” I say drily, letting my eyes trail down his torso to land on his crotch. “There are parts of you I’m far more attached to.”
“Babe,” he sighs. “You’re such a tease. Now I have to hike through the woods with Ghostface and an erection.”
My lips twitch. “Ali will be there to make it better.”
“Super,” Ciprian mutters.
Luca says nothing.
Within five minutes, they’re bundled up and gone.
My stomach flips. Luca won’t meet my eyes. We can figure this out; I know we can. I only hope he’s on the same page, because if I’ve learned anything since admitting that I love him, it’s that everything goes better when we work together.