Chapter 32
TWO MONTHS LATER
ELLIOT
“Fuck, you’re pretty like this.”
One of Secora’s legs is over my shoulder and the other is bent at my side.
She wasn’t sure about the position, but she looks anything but uncertain now.
Her eyes keep fluttering shut, and her mouth is tilted in a blissful, lazy smile.
Every time I thrust into her, she moans and digs her fingers harder against my shoulders.
She’s close to drawing blood, and I fuck her harder, hoping she will.
When she rocks her hips to meet mine, I almost lose the last of my self-control. It’s steadily disappeared since we woke up twenty minutes ago and her soft lips tickled my collarbone. I had grand plans to fuck her until her clan meeting, but now I’m clenching to keep from exploding inside her.
“One more, honey,” I say. “Give me one more.”
She lets out an incoherent string of curse words, her eyes closed and that smile still in place. She looks like an angel. A beautiful, deadly angel, so pure she’s painful to look at. And yet, I’m desperate for those dark eyes to be on mine.
“Look at me, Secora,” I say. My words are punctuated by the sharp slap of my hips against her thighs. When Secora does as I’ve asked, when those pretty eyes meet mine, I brush my thumb against her clit, rubbing in tight circles. “Come for me.”
“I can’t,” she whines, but she can. She’s close.
We’ve only been having sex for a couple months, but I already know her tells as well as my own.
The way her hips lose rhythm the closer she gets.
The way her breaths turn into louder and louder moans.
The way her cunt tightens over my cock, taking me deeper with each stroke.
“One more,” I say, and it sounds exactly as desperate as I feel. “You can do one more, can’t you?”
When her eyes start to roll back, I capture her mouth with mine, kissing her until she’s moaning too hard to kiss me back. Her entire body arches as she comes around my cock.
She hasn’t finished coming down when my orgasm rips through me. I grunt against her neck, fucking her harder and harder, until I’m collapsed against her, my cum dripping down the inside of her thigh.
Once we’re cleaned up and back in her bed, naked and sated, she sighs. “It’s almost time.”
I trail my palm over her curves, cupping between her legs. We cleaned up, and yet, she’s already ready for me. Soft and wet and warm, beaconing me to thrust inside her and never leave.
“For me to fuck you again?” I ask, teasing.
“We can tell them whatever you want,” she says, ignoring me. “And we don’t have to promise any sort of timeline.”
“I’m ready,” I tell her. “We’ll tell them today.”
She kisses my bare shoulder, and I tug her closer. It really is almost time to go, but I allow myself another minute of bliss, pretending she and I are the only people who exist.
Sebastian Vulce still does not like me. If killing his greatest enemy—my own mama—doesn’t win his favor, I imagine nothing will.
Even with Grace at his side, he sits rigid at the stone table, openly glaring at me.
The others at the table no longer seem bothered.
Amelia and Grace both greet me, and Beatrice pretends I don’t exist, which seems to be the greatest compliment she can offer.
“Sorry, the trolley was late,” Milas announces as he strides into the courtyard. There’s a severed ear in his shirt pocket, and I can only hope it’s the same one I’ve seen previously. For all I know, he gets a freshly severed body part every morning as part of some macabre routine.
My heart picks up as Milas takes his seat at the stone table. They’re all here now. Beatrice sits opposite Grace and Sebastian, tapping her sharp nails against the table. She, more than any of the others, looks ravenous. Not for Milas’s news, like I am. Like Secora is, and Sebastian too.
She’s desperate for the update Secora and I will give. The one we’ve kept putting off due to failed experiments. Today, finally, will be different.
Across from Milas, Amelia slouches against the ivy-covered stone wall. She uses a knife to clean underneath her nails. She looks bored, resigned, as if this meeting were any other.
I stare at Milas as he settles into the spot beside Amelia. My pulse strums faster and faster, until I’m certain it will give out.
“Well?” I demand.
If no one else is going to ask, I will. I have to.
“The Gazette announced her official cause of death. Heart attack,” he says.
He leans forward, propping onto his elbows. He’s looking at me, rather than the others, and it makes my throat tight. I swallow roughly, determined not to cry for Mama. It feels wrong to mourn a death I caused, even if it wasn’t a death I wanted.
With his eyes still on me, Milas continues. “My sources have heard nothing different. No mention of a killer or even a morning visitor. It seems your friend cleaned up well.”
“He’s talented with spells,” I say. I’m not sure why. Perhaps to say something at all, to move this conversation from the topic of my mama and onto anything else.
“Yes, well, he’s prevented a war,” Milas says. He thumbs the ear in his pocket. “There are whispers of a new council leader, but nothing official. I imagine it will be another month before we hear.”
“And Elliot?” Secora asks. Her voice is raspy, strained.
When I look at her, she’s absently touching the scar on her forehead, right above her left eyebrow.
Mama had done far more than throw her that day in her office.
She’d shattered her skull, and even with vampire blood and every healing spell I knew, I wasn’t sure she’d wake up.
I never would have forgiven myself.
As if she can sense my wandering mind, Secora lowers her hand, placing it on my knee. She squeezes gently, offering me a timid smile.
“My sources all assume you’re in mourning, but we’ll need to be careful going forward,” Milas says. “Once you’re ready to return to the Day Realm, you’ll need to be strategic. We don’t want the council asking questions.”
I don’t look at Secora, but I feel her stiffen. It’s been two months since Mama died, and still, we haven’t discussed the logistics of our future. Her life is here. Mine was in the Day Realm. I lower my hand to my knee, until my fingers cover hers. She relaxes, but just barely.
“And what of the sunwalker spell?” Beatrice asks. Demands. Of all the vampires at this table, she unnerves me the most. Milas and Amelia are simple. They do their work and only speak when they have something to contribute.
Sebastian is as volatile as Beatrice, but at least I see where his heart lies. He wants to protect his people, and because Secora is in that group, I can’t help but admire him for it.
Beatrice, on the other hand, is nothing but chaos. Greedy, power-hungry chaos.
She doesn’t care that I killed my mother. Or that the witches are without leadership. Or that Secora nearly died.
She only cares about the sunwalker spells.
I glance at Secora to find her already staring at me. She doesn’t say a word, but she doesn’t have to. The encouraging look in her eyes is all I need. She could answer Beatrice as well as I can, but she wants me to contribute. To be part of her side of the world.
“We’re ready to test,” I say. I’m surprised how steady I sound, how effortless the words are. “Secora and I made a list of ingredients for Milas to collect. We’ll bring Henry in to perform the ritual. If all goes to plan—which I think it will—the vampires will be free in a matter of weeks.
Beatrice doesn’t reply, but her lips curl into a satisfied smile.
Later that night, I lay in Secora’s bed with her head on my chest. We spent hours after the clan meeting, watching the last of my and Secora’s memories.
We’ve been working through them for the past two months, and now that we’re finally done, I feel an unexpected pang of sadness.
There’s nothing more to remember. My only comfort is knowing that now we’ll be able to make endless new memories.
“Have you considered joining the council?” Secora asks.
My hand freezes halfway down her hair. She almost always wears it up during the day, but it’s my favorite like this. Loose around her shoulders, tickling against my bare chest. After a long pause, I start playing with her hair again, letting the soft strands filter between my fingers.
“Not really.”
“You’d be a great leader,” she says. I turn toward her, grateful that we haven’t turned out the lights.
I can see every detail of her face, from the soft wrinkle between her brows to the light blush trailing her cheeks.
She clears her throat, tipping her chin proudly.
“The Day Realm would be honored to have you. You plan to return home anyway, don’t you? ”
I trace the soft curve of her lower lip, smiling when her cheeks darken in response. She’s trying hard to hide her insecurity, and the fact she’s uncertain at all is endearing.
“This is my home,” I say, kissing her temple. “Right here. With you.”
“I know, but…” she trails off, then continues in a torrent of words. “I don’t want you to feel trapped here. I know you don’t like the Night Realm. Even if you want to go, we could make it work. Don’t feel like you have to—”
I flip us around, so that I’m floating above her. Her dark eyebrows rise in shock, that pretty blush still in place.
“You are my home, Secora,” I say. “If you go, I’ll go.
If you stay, I’ll stay. If you want to live in this wretched manor, then I’ll live in this wretched manor too.
I’ll play nice with the bloodsuckers. Start a healing center in the Night Realm.
Fuck you every night and every morning. And I will be the happiest man in the Echo. ”
Secora wraps her arms around my neck and closes her eyes.
I can tell the moment she starts to cry, long before the tears actually fall down her face.
I remain propped above her, letting her cry.
I kiss each of the tears before they reach her chin, nuzzling into her neck once she’s finally fallen quiet again.
“It sounds lovely,” she says. “And I don’t use that word lightly.”
“No, I don’t suppose you would,” I say, chuckling against her collarbone.
“You’re going to stay?” she whispers.
“Yeah,” I say. I kiss the hollow of her throat, then kiss the softest part of shoulder. “I’m going to stay.”
THE END.