Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
Ash
The only sound in the night is the crunch under my boots as I pace back and forth.
The storm has ended, and the night is now clear and bright, with the stars and moon glittering in the dark sky above.
I check the time again. After midnight. She should be here by now.
But I already know she won’t come, can feel exactly why, through the throbbing of the blood mark that binds her to me.
It’s been burning all evening, sending waves of her pleasure straight into my veins like poison.
Spread out for three men at once, while I stand alone in the freezing cold waiting for her like a fool.
The fury that rises in me threatens to swallow me whole.
I know every detail of how the night played out.
The mark is a two-way mirror, and I’ve spent it haunted by flashes of her body, her gasps, the way she moans for the ones she trusts, unlike me.
She let Soren be rough with her, let Lucien take her apart with his calculated moves.
Even the fucking ghost got his turn. I felt it all, each wave of her pleasure like a slap in the face, a reminder that there is a want in her that I am not allowed to touch. Not really.
Every time she fucks one of them, or all of them, it’s like acid through my body. Maybe she knows I’m out here, seething. Maybe she wants me to feel it. To suffer.
This connection we share is becoming a curse.
I meant it as a leash to control her, to harness her power.
Now it’s a window into intimate moments I never wanted to witness.
I could end this training arrangement. I don’t need her.
The Blood Moon Coven is scattered, broken after Helena’s coup and Jasmine’s subsequent takeover.
My life’s work lies in ruins. Why am I still tethering myself to this girl?
Because she’s mine.
She might not know it yet. But I do.
Fifteen minutes past midnight now. I’ve waited long enough. She’s not coming. Probably passed out from exhaustion after her little orgy. I crack my knuckles instead of punching the nearest tree.
Then, movement at the edge of the clearing catches my eye. I go still, watching, waiting.
And then she’s there, pushing through the low-hanging branches, snow dusting her dark hair. Rose. Looking flushed and alive against the backdrop of a cold winter’s night.
“You’re late.” I do nothing to disguise my contempt.
She approaches, chin up, unrepentant. I scan her from head to toe. Her hair is loose around her shoulders. She’s wearing a thick coat that doesn’t hide the faint marks on her neck, and the sight of them sends fresh fury coursing through me.
“I didn’t think you were going to show.” I turn away so she won’t see the rage in my eyes.
“Why wouldn’t I?” She sounds genuinely confused, and that only makes it worse.
“Perhaps your evening activities?”
She stiffens, realization dawning on her face. “You felt—”
“Everything,” I finish for her. “Every fucking thing.”
Rose has the decency to look embarrassed, but not ashamed. Never ashamed. “It’s not like I did it on purpose.”
“Didn’t you?” I step closer, invading her space. “Maybe you wanted me to feel it. Maybe that was the point.”
Her eyes narrow. “Not everything is about you, Ash.”
I stare at her. “When it comes to your magic, it is. Never forget who owns it. Who owns you.”
She sighs. “Sure, Ash. Are we training tonight or not?”
“Oh, we’re training.” I smile.
Without warning, I hurl a bolt of magic at her, far more deadly than the usual warm-up exercises I’ve been having her do. She manages to throw up a shield, but it’s sloppy, fragmenting on impact. The force knocks her back a step.
“Sloppy,” I say. “Again.”
I don’t give her time to recover, sending three rapid blasts in succession. She blocks the first two but takes the third one on her shoulder. She stumbles, gasping in pain.
“Too slow,” I taunt. “What’s wrong? Tired? Sore?”
She glares at me, her mouth pressed in a line.
“You look weak, Rose.” I circle her, magic gathering at my fingertips, “Like someone who spent all her energy elsewhere.”
This time when I attack, she’s ready. Her shield holds, golden light rippling across its surface. She pushes back, sending a burst of magic that nearly catches me off guard.
For the next hour, I push her harder than I ever have before. Make her conjure more complex shields, deflect attacks from multiple angles, throw her own power back at her with increasing force. I’m relentless, allowing no breaks, no moments to catch her breath.
Sweat beads on her forehead despite the cold, her breath coming in sharp pants that cloud the air between us. She’s getting tired, making mistakes. I press my advantage, sending a whip of magic that catches her around the ankle and yanks her feet out from under her.
She lands hard on her back, the air knocked from her lungs. Before she can rise, I’m standing over her, one foot planted beside her hip.
“Pathetic,” I say. “Is this the best you can do?”
She struggles to her feet, clearly angry, which makes two of us. “What the hell is your problem tonight?”
“My problem?” I laugh. “I’m not the one who can’t focus.”
“I’m focusing just fine,” she snaps back. “You’re the one who’s being an extra-special asshole.”
I lean in close and whisper. “Maybe you’d be doing better if you hadn’t worn yourself out fucking three men at once.”
Her face goes slack with shock, then flushes. She’s angry. “Don’t you fucking dare try to shame me, you bastard. What I do, and who I do it with, are none of your business.”
“It became my business when I had to feel every second of it. When their hands were all over what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours,” she spits, shoving me back. “The blood mark doesn’t make me your property.”
I grab her wrist, fingers circling the spot where the mark pulses beneath her sleeve. “Doesn’t it? Your power flows through me. Your pleasure. Your pain. All of it, mine to feel.”
“Let go of me.”
“Make me.”
Magic surges between us, gold and black intertwining. Her power pushes against mine, seeking weaknesses, finding none. We stand locked in this position, neither giving an inch, until suddenly she does something unexpected.
She stops fighting.
Her magic recedes, and she looks up at me with eyes too perceptive for comfort. “You’re jealous,” she says quietly.
The words hit like a physical blow. “Don’t be fucking ridiculous.”
“You are.” She tilts her head. “You’re jealous because I was with them instead of you.”
I release her wrist like it burns me. “I don’t care who you spread your legs for.”
“Liar.” She doesn’t back away. “I can feel it, you know. Through the mark. It goes both ways, remember?”
I take a step back. “Don’t flatter yourself,” I say, but the words are hollow.
Rose steps closer, invading my space now. “You’re not as mysterious as you think you are, Ash.”
I turn away, unable to meet her eyes. “We’re done for tonight.”
“No, we’re not.” She grabs my arm, forcing me to face her. “You don’t get to push me to my limits, say horrible things to me, and then just walk away when I call you on your bullshit.”
“What do you want from me, Rose?” The question erupts from somewhere deep, somewhere I don’t usually allow myself to access.
Her expression softens. “I want you to be honest. For once.”
“Honest about what?” But I know. Of course I know.
“About why you’re really upset.” She doesn’t look away. “It’s not just about the blood mark, or your control over my magic, or even the guys. It’s about me.”
The silence stretches between us, with only the sound of snow falling off branches disturbing it.
“It must hurt. To want someone and not be able to have them. To know that they are with other people.”
Her understanding is worse than her judgment would have been. I didn’t come here to be pitied.
“Don’t,” I warn. “Don’t pretend you understand me.”
“I’m not pretending.” She reaches for my face, her fingers stopping just short of my skin. “But lashing out at me isn’t going to change anything.”
I catch her wrist before she can touch me. “And what would change things, Rose? What do you suggest?”
“I don’t know.” She doesn’t try to pull away. “But this isn’t working.”
I release her wrist and step back. “No, it isn’t.”
Snow continues to fall around us, soft and silent, covering our footprints as if trying to erase the evidence of our confrontation.
“We’re done here,” I say.
“For tonight?” she asks.
I don’t answer as I walk away.