Chapter 21
Chapter
Twenty-One
ELIZA
His fingers go to the buttons of his shirt. Then, he shrugs out of it, filling the cave with a startling blue luminescence.
I stare, awestruck, falling in love with his unearthly form all over again.
He arches an eyebrow. “No gasps? No fear?”
“I’ve seen these before,” I confess. “The night of the bite. My fingers danced in the spaces between them, though I know that sounds crazy.”
His voice drops. “The meaning is in the spaces. Just like the hum between us.”
“In every cell of my body.”
He looks down, fingertips chasing the pulses and lines. I lean forward, drawn to him, no longer able to stay away. My hand comes up, replacing his.
He lets out a soft moan. The pulse passes between us, ripening my body. Tightening the spot between my legs until I feel like I’ll explode. My mind wanders back to the ride. To his fingers sliding over my mound, giving me what I longed for, for one hair’s breadth.
I need to feel him there again. “Kael, please.”
That’s when I see it. My bracelet glows now, too, little tendrils of light shooting from it, mixing with the light of his marks.
“Never seen nothing like it,” he says, eyes focused on the same spot. “What should suppress reinforces, binds. Like an exclamation point to fate.”
“But how?” I whisper.
“The metal is an alien alloy. Stolen Sentinel tech—taken by Wildblood hunters.”
“You mean the aliens on the mountain?”
“Sometimes. But humans, too. Like Alistair Wakefield.”
I gasp, covering my mouth.
“Sorry,” he whispers. “But there’s no nice way to say it. That’s my father’s tech, stolen by your ancestor.”
“What did Alistair do?”
He shakes his head, face tense. “Punished sin. Made my brothers and me orphans.”
“Wakefield,” I say bitterly, things finally sliding into place. “You must hate me.”
“Hate the name,” he growls. “But not you. Not possible.”
“But every time you’ve seen me wearing it, you had to think about the past, about what he did.”
“They did. It was all of Raven’s Ridge. Why I avoid that place… people in general.” He scrubs his eyes with his palms. “But your bracelet also reminds me of my father. Somehow strangely fitting.”
“And the tattoos? They’re from him, too?”
“Not real tattoos. Marks buried in code and flesh. Like a language of sorts. Don’t know the individual words,” he confesses.
“But it’s a plea from my father back to his people.
The Ancients. The Sentinels. Telling the story of his transgression.
Making the case for his descendants. A love letter and a defense buried in flesh. His light mixed with humanity.”
My eyes flick around the cave now, seeing glimmers and radiance among the mineral veins. “They’re moving and swirling like your glyphs.”
He nods. “Everything that’s alive vibrates. But two things that hum on the same plane at the same frequency are resonance.”
My fingers dip into the light, heat building at the base of my spine.
“You are my resonance,” he rasps. Like the words take something from him.
“What does that mean?” I ask, nose scrunching.
“That you’re all I’ll ever need.”
I freeze, the words sinking in. “Shortened lifespan. All you’ll ever need? Sounds kind of codependent.”
“Co what?” he scowls.
“Never mind,” I answer, hypnotized by the chaos of light swirling across his skin.
He motions toward the marks, saying, “My grandmother said my father was all this. Bioluminescent. He had to work to contain it beneath skin that looked human. For his children, the energy dampened and focused, leaving only fracture lines between flesh where the otherworldly parts of us reside, release… hopefully stabilize.”
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper, cave bathed in blue light.
“No, you are,” he whispers, voice catching. “I want you, Eliza. Bad enough I feel it in my bones. In my blood. Don’t know how to fight it anymore. But if I take you… if I make you mine, there are consequences.”
“Consequences?”
He frowns. “A binding that can never be undone. That will tie our lives together from this day to our last.”
“So, I’ll live as long as you?”
He chuckles darkly, throat straining. “No, my life will shorten to yours.”
The words fall heavy between us. I can barely fathom it. But my heart already protests their meaning. “You can’t do that. Not for me.”
“I could do no less if you were mine,” he counters, leaning forward to stroke my cheek with his thumb. “Though God knows I’ve fought this with every ounce of my being.”
“Because you don’t want me?”
“Because I don’t want you to bear this sacrifice with me.”
“Why?” I reach up, pressing his big palm to my cheek.
“Because a union with me only means pain. A curse. Like Ash and his bride.”
“A curse? What are you talking about? They couldn’t be happier.”
He shakes his head. “It seemed that way.”
The words land wrong. “You were there, then?” I ask leveling my gaze on him. “At the wedding?”
“Watched from a distance. Yes. Saw you drawn to the glyphs in stone, too. The one you touched.” He swallows hard. “The second one was my name, carved by my father.”
“What? But how?”
“Resonance.” The word is like a final judgment. One I don’t fear. His face hardens. “If you knew what you and I could awaken.” Despite the words, his other hand comes up, gripping my waist. I shudder at the new throb he amplifies.
“You shouldn’t do anything that will shorten your life,” I pant, though I need him more than air. Maybe that’s why he’s willing to give up so much for this. Because he feels it this way, too.
“I’m nearly one hundred and seventy years old, Eliza. Most of my kind don’t go much past two hundred, though some of the first-generation ones have. Hell, for all I know, claiming you might make me live longer.”
“I’m only twenty-four,” I confess, breath coming faster now. “And a virgin. Is that a problem?”
“Me, too,” he says, turquoise eyes searching mine.
“Really?” Awe and curiosity fight inside.
“My kind, Wildbloods, and the Sentinels we came from, only mate once for life. Later hybrids, more diluted blood, sometimes find a way around that, but not me.” His thumb strokes my bottom lip, tugging it gently.
“Honestly, I thought there was no one for me on this planet. Until the moment I laid eyes on you.”
My throat tightens, a dangerous sting building. “With a gun to your back,” I whisper.
“Lived by iron, no surprise I’d fall by it, too,” he grunts, so close now that I can feel his breath on my lips.
“What do you mean lived by iron?”
His face goes dark and feral. “Spent most of my life an outlaw, primrose. Not a good man like Ash or Clay. Still have to square with that, starts with being truthful to you.”
“Have you killed people then?”
“Too many to count. Was part of an outlaw band with my brothers, used to haunt these mountains wreaking havoc. But I never killed no woman or child. Never was a savage like the Sentinels or the Wildblood hunters.”
“Your alien ancestors? And my human ones?” The words stick in my throat. I still can’t process the conversation we’re having.
“Yes. We’re both bad blood. Why our union is no good. But—” He looks away, jaw tightening.
I wait, letting my silence do more than words.
“But with you, there’s no resisting.”
Warmth pools in my chest. “I want you, Kael. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone before.”
“Really?” his voice cracks, rugged, scarred face more open than I’ve ever seen it.
He pulls me into his lap with one tug, wrapping his arms around me and pressing a kiss to my temple. His big hands circle my waist, thumbs stroking over soft flesh.
“Hope you like your girls a little curvier,” I whisper, self-consciousness seeping in.
“I like my girls like you. Only you,” he says, mouth descending slowly. His hand settles at my neck, his thumb sliding over the pulse point.
We’re so close I can taste him and still he holds back. Like there’s some invisible thing between us.
“What is it?” I whisper.
“If we do this,” his eyes search mine. “It could bring down something neither of us wants.”
“What do you mean?”
“The culprits in your bull mutilation. Maybe the ones who put the symbol in your field. Bloodless, tearless. Animated by living ghosts.”
A shiver travels the length of my spine. But all I can think about is his mouth, the sweep of his tongue as he claims me. “They would’ve already come for Ash and Jo,” I whisper. “But they didn’t.”
He pulls back slightly. “How do you know?”
“Because Jo would’ve told me.”
His eyes narrow. “You sure about that?”
“We may be new friends, but we’re also fast friends. So, yes, I’m sure.”
He shakes his head. “But you didn’t even know he was a Wildblood until me.”
I cock my head to the side. “I’d heard the term used in reference to him. Working at the café, I know all the town’s gossip. And Jo mentioned it, too. I just didn’t understand exactly what it entails,” I gulp air. “Still don’t, honestly.”
My eyes snag on crimson. Air escapes the hand I press to my mouth. “You’ve been shot.” My fingertips drop to his torso, carefully tracing blood.
“It’s fine.”
My gaze meets his. “But how?”
“Just a graze. Been through far worse.”
“But we should stop. Make sure you’re—”
“Nothing could stop me now, Eliza, except you.” His hand massages the top of my hip, fingers sliding and teasing lower. “That what you want?”
“No,” I whisper, heat curling low.
“They say the road to ruin is lined with primroses,” Kael grumbles deep in his throat. Gravel and velvet all at once. “But I can’t fight this anymore.”
“Stop trying.” My fingers slide into his beard, drawing him closer, my gaze locking with searing turquoise. “Make me yours, Kael Guthrie.”