Chapter 7 Carla
CARLA
His lips are on mine before I can take another breath.
Desperate. Hungry. Amari lifts me off my feet, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he holds me against him.
One arm bands around my back, crushing me to his chest. The other hand tangles in my hair, angling my head so he can deepen the kiss.
But something’s different. The way he’s holding me. Too tight. Like I might dissolve into smoke if he loosens his grip even a fraction. His hands tremble against my skin, and Amari never trembles.
He breaks the kiss only to trail his lips along my jaw, down my neck, finding the claim mark and pressing his mouth there. A shudder runs through his entire body. Not desire. Something deeper. More raw.
“You’re here.” The words come out broken. “You’re really here.”
My chest tightens. I’ve never heard his voice sound like that. Shattered.
“I’m here.” My hands move to cup his face, forcing him to look at me. His eyes are wet, the gold swimming with unshed tears. “Amari, what—”
He captures my mouth again, and this kiss is different. Slower. Deeper. Like he’s memorizing every curve of my lips, every sweep of my tongue. His thumb strokes my cheek, gentle despite the desperate way he’s holding me.
I can feel everything through the bond. The way his heart races, pounding against my chest. The relief flooding through him so intense it’s almost painful. But underneath it all, there’s something else. Something that tastes like grief.
What happened while I was gone?
His hands roam my back, my sides, like he’s checking to make sure I’m whole and unharmed. Every touch is reverent. Worshipful. Terrified.
I press my hands to his chest, gently pushing. He resists at first, his arms tightening around me, but then he loosens his grip. Sets me down carefully, like I might disappear if he’s not gentle enough.
His hands immediately reach for me again, as if he can’t stand not touching me. They settle on my waist, fingers pressing into my hips.
“What’s going on?”
There’s a wildness in his eyes I’ve never seen before. Like he’s been pushed to the edge of something and is barely holding on.
Before I can answer, his whole body goes rigid. His head snaps toward the hallway, eyes narrowing to slits.
“Not to break up this cute little moment, but we’ve got bigger issues here.”
“Aya’s voice snaps out. “My nephew, granddaughter, and the children of Wintermoon are in danger.”
His gaze swings to Aya’s ghostly figure, then back to me. The look in his eyes makes my stomach drop. Betrayal. Confusion. Fear.
“Please don’t tell me you’re working with this monster of a witch.”
The word “monster” comes out like a curse. His hands drop from my waist. Cold rushes in where his warmth was.
I watch him turn to Tofi. Our daughter sends images flooding into the space between us. Me in limbo with Aya. Me defending Solomon.
“What the hell is going on?” Amari’s voice climbs. His hands curl into fists at his sides. “Someone from limbo is after Solomon?”
“Oh, it’s much bigger than that. Much bigger.” Aya says.
I step toward him, reaching out. My fingers brush his arm. “Please don’t antagonize my man.”
Aya laughs, sharp and cutting. “If it isn’t slut Amari trying to lecture me. The sheer number of women I’ve known you to run through. The world knows you’re a walking male tramp.”
Amari’s hands ball into fists, his fangs extending with an audible snick. Every muscle in his body coils.
“Amari...”
But he’s already moving. Vampire speed carries him across the room in a blur, fist drawn back. The rage rolling off him through the bond is suffocating. He swings with enough force to take someone’s head clean off.
His fist passes right through Aya’s ghostly form. He stumbles forward with the momentum, catching himself before he crashes into the wall.
A roar of frustration tears from his throat. Primal. Broken.
Aya throws her head back, laughing like this is the most entertaining thing she’s seen in decades.
“Tofi baby.” Amari’s voice drops to something dangerous. Something that makes the hair on my arms stand up. “I need you to do a favor for Daddy. Kill her.”
Tofi doesn’t move.
The silence that follows is deafening. I watch emotions flicker across Amari’s face. Shock. Then confusion. Then something that looks like hurt as he stares at our daughter.
“His jaw works, but no sound comes out at first. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and dangerous. “What did you put in my daughter’s head?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. For once, this is something you can’t blame on me.” Aya’s smile is all teeth. “It was Mother Fate. Mother Fate gave them the command not to kill me.”
Amari looks at me, and I see it. The moment something inside him cracks. I nod slowly, confirming what Aya’s saying is true.
“What the fuck?” He runs both hands over his face, fingers digging into his skin. His shoulders sag like someone cut his strings.
“You might want to call in the reinforcements. It’s going to take all of us to finally get rid of Nathaniel.”
“Who’s Nathaniel?”
I drop my gaze to the floor. My hands twist together, fingers knotting until my knuckles ache.
“I don’t know much about him myself.” The words scrape out of my throat like glass. “But what I do know is that he’s after Solomon.”
I force myself to look up, to meet Amari’s eyes. “I saw it. I caught him right when he was siphoning magic from my little cousin in his crib.”
A tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it. Then another. The image of Solomon reaching for that man, so small and helpless, plays behind my eyes.
Amari moves. Not with vampire speed this time, but with purpose. He walks around Aya, glaring at her like he wishes looks could kill the already dead. Then he’s in front of me, cupping my face in his hands.
The gentleness of his touch breaks something in me. His thumbs brush away my tears with a tenderness that makes more fall.
He pulls me into his arms. One hand cradles the back of my head while the other strokes up and down my back in slow, soothing motions.
“Yara and Kofi sent me images of Tabatha fighting him.” My voice muffles against his chest. “But what I don’t understand is why they never told me about him.”
“Because he wasn’t a threat until now.” Aya tells us.
Amari’s arms tighten around me at Aya’s words. I feel his heartbeat against my cheek, faster than normal.
He’s terrified.
“Look, if you just get everyone together, I’ll explain everything.”
“Why should I trust you?” Amari’s voice is low enough that I feel it as much as hear it. His hand on my back presses harder, holding me closer.
“Because I’m all you have right now. Nathaniel just siphoned some of Solomon’s power, which makes him even stronger in limbo. Carla may be the queen of the realm now, but if we don’t do something soon, she’s about to get dethroned.”
I pull back enough to look up at Amari. “I found his room of doorways to the living. One of them took me to Brookstone and Blackburn, and the other was to the dorm hallways of the academy.”
“Fuck...” Aya places her hands on her hips. “He’s using my own playbook. He’s going to use the children to build his own army. Find lost souls stuck in limbo and offer them possession of new bodies. Shifter children. They’re the easiest to possess because of their youth.”
The blood drains from Amari’s face. His jaw clenches so tight I hear his teeth grind. The muscle in his cheek jumps.
“Alright.” He steps back from me, and the loss of his warmth is immediate. “I’ll get in touch with Damon.”
“I’m going to go take a shower.”
He starts to walk away, but I grab his hand. My fingers wrap around his wrist, feeling his pulse hammer beneath my touch.
He stops. Doesn’t turn around at first. Just stands there with his back to me, shoulders rigid. Every line of his body is tense.
“How long have I been gone this time?”
Slowly, he turns. The look on his face guts me. Sadness. Resignation. Exhaustion.
“Another three days.”
Three days. Three whole days.
“No, no, no, no. I missed it. I missed your opening of the technology center for the academy.”
The technology center. The project he’s been working on for months. The pride in his voice every time he talked about it. The way his eyes lit up when he showed me the plans. How he wanted me there beside him.
And I wasn’t there.
Amari shrugs. The casual gesture is worse than if he’d yelled. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“But it is.”
“It really isn’t.” He says it so flatly. So matter-of-fact. Like he’s already accepted this. Accepted being second. Accepted that I’ll always disappear right when he needs me most.
He gently pulls his arm away from me. The loss of contact nearly breaks my heart. His hand slips from mine slowly, deliberately. Like he’s practiced this. Letting go.
“Go take your shower. There’s more important issues now than my silly ideas.”
Silly ideas. He called his passion, his vision, his work—silly ideas.
“Silly ideas—”
But he’s already gone. Vampire speed carries him away before I can finish. Before I can tell him that nothing about him is silly. That I’m so sorry. That I’d give anything to have been there.
The space where he stood feels empty. Cold.
“Trouble in paradise?”
“Oh, shut up.” The words come out choked.
I push past Aya, heading for the stairs. My feet pound against each step, carrying me up to my floor. Magic spills from my fingers before I consciously call it, opening the doors to my room with more force than necessary. They slam against the walls.
The bathroom. I need the bathroom.
Movement in my peripheral vision stops me. Moria and Kemnebi emerging from the vents, their legs moving in that careful way that means something’s wrong.
“Where have you been?”
Images flood my mind. The void of limbo. But not the parts I know. Somewhere deeper, darker. Lost souls. Hundreds of them. Thousands. A seething mass of rage and hunger, all moving in one direction.
Toward me.
Moria and Kemnebi tearing through them. Vertro at the door, his massive body blocking it, pounding against wood and magic to reach me. To protect me from an army I didn’t even know existed.
“See, I told you I was right about the army.”
I gasp and start pacing. My hands shake as I run them through my hair. Back and forth across the room. The walls feel like they’re closing in.
Why didn’t Tabatha say anything? Why didn’t she warn me?
“Oh, Tabatha warned you. I was watching when she did.”
I spin to glare at Aya, but she just stands there. Unbothered. Amused, even.
Her ghostly form flickers, growing faint. “Being the queen of limbo is a thankless job, which is why Tabatha was so happy to be relieved from it. And one day, you will be too.”
I slam the bathroom door with my magic. My hands shake as they grip the sink. The woman staring back at me in the mirror looks haunted.
Three days. Three days I was gone while Amari stood alone in his technology center. Smiling for children. Answering questions. Pretending everything was fine while his mate was missing and he couldn’t even feel me through the bond.
I grab my toothbrush with shaking hands. The mint taste burns my tongue as I scrub roughly, trying to wash away the taste of failure. Of letting down the one person who’s never let me down.
Towels. Washcloths. The shower. I move through the motions mechanically, my body on autopilot while my mind spirals.
The water hits my skin too hot. I don’t adjust it. Let it burn. Maybe if the water’s hot enough, if I scrub hard enough, I can wash away the guilt clinging to me.
Shampoo. My fingers work through my curls roughly, nails scraping against my scalp. Who the hell is Nathaniel? How does he have Blackwood magic? Why was Tabatha fighting him in limbo? Why is he after Solomon?
The questions won’t stop. But they all pale compared to the one question that matters most.
How do I keep Amari?
I saw it in his eyes. That flicker of resignation. Like he’s already accepting that I’ll always choose limbo over him. That his dreams, his passions, his achievements will always come second to my responsibilities as the Queen of limbo.
But he’s wrong. He’s so fucking wrong.
Conditioner. My hands work it through my hair, gentler this time. Rinse. Body wash. The routine movements give my hands something to do.
“I have to do something about this.”
But how? How do I fight an enemy I don’t understand while also being the mate Amari deserves? The partner who shows up, who’s present, who doesn’t miss the moments that matter?
I look down at my hands through the spray of water. Pink magic flickers around my fingers. The same magic that yanked me away from Amari without warning. Without mercy. Without asking if I wanted to go.
Mother Fate. Aya said Mother Fate commanded the children not to kill her.
Is Mother Fate messing with my magic too? Is this all part of some greater plan I can’t see?
Maybe I need Fate to survive this. To keep Amari.
I snap back to myself and shut off the water. Step out, wrapping myself in a towel. Another towel for my hair, twisted and secured on top of my head.
I need to talk to Angie. If anyone can help me understand Nathaniel and why he has Blackwood magic, it’s her. She has the books, the knowledge, the connection to our bloodline that I don’t have.
I put on a simple purple dress and leave my hair wrapped up. I’ll deal with it later. Right now, I need answers.
And I need to fix things with Amari before this distance between us becomes a chasm too wide to cross.
One struggle at a time. But I can’t let fixing limbo cost me Amari.
I won’t.