by Helen Scott
“Why would she want me to meet my father, Darius?”
“I don’t know, Mate. Sylvester is a pursang. Morgana’s by race, but I can’t imagine why he’d have come to her attention for any reason.”
“Obviously not. She wanted me to go to him. To find him.”
“I can’t believe we’re talking about this like it’s fucking normal,” Raven growled.
Keiran blew out a breath. “We’re living proof that there’s more to this world than meets the eye. Why shouldn’t there be more? We’ve never really had a true creation story,” he tacked on. “At least now we know our origins.”
“Fuck that,” Raven growled. “I’d prefer not to know.”
“Morgana…” Marcella blew out a breath. “She called to me when I sealed Cade’s wound.” I heard her swallow. “I look like her, Darius. And she said my men look like the Sires. What does that mean?”
“I have no answers for you, ocelle. I wish I did,” Darius whispered, and I heard skin brush against skin, which had me tilting my head to the side because it sounded better than silk rubbing against silk.
“I’m scared,” Marcella admitted. “I thought we were just going to become like a supernatural version of Charlie’s Angels. Except I’m Charlie and you’re the angels. Instead, we’re… what? The Second Coming?”
All around us, my brothers snickered at her words, and even my lips curved at the comparison—all of us had had crushes on the original Angels. We’d been alive back then, and still looked as though we’d only seen twenty years.
“It is much to take in, but we can only deal with things as they happen,” Darius soothed her. “First, the council must come and remove our captives—”
“No,” I growled, my voice stern, stronger than it had been since I’d awoken from a dream filled with Morgana and her insidious siren’s call to feed Marcella, to nourish my starving mate. “First, you must make her yours, Darius. It is time to bind her to you in the ways of the pursang. She is irate, out of control. Ripe for Morgana’s manipulation. We must protect her.” Then, with all my energy burned up, I sank back into the lounger and whispered again, “We must keep her from Morgana.”
Marcella
Well, wasn’t this awkward? Nothing like having guys you were sleeping with telling you to go and sleep with another guy, because if you didn’t you might kill someone. I’m sure girls everywhere could relate to that, right?
I sighed and walked away from the group, feeling on edge and antsy. As I walked into the house, leaving all of them by the pool, I was honestly surprised that none of them followed me. The way they had looked at me earlier? You’d have thought I’d turned completely rabid. We all knew I hadn’t, that it was Morgana’s doing, but that didn’t seem to matter. And they were still on edge. Still looking at me like I was half-psychotic when one of the Sires had manipulated me with the help of my mate and one of the Cavalry into doing the Mother’s bidding.
Was that fair?
No. It was fucked up.
The stylists, or whatever they were, had entered the house and were getting set up in my room, which surprised me. I would have thought Rhys would have sent them away this time, or was he not even aware of what had happened now that Cade had turned back time? When I entered, I cleared my throat, trying not to see them as I had a few moments ago when I killed them. They weren’t dead after all, they were alive and kicking, right in front of me.
“You can go, your services are no longer required,” I told them, keeping my tone formal and authoritative, but I heard the hurt deep in my voice. And hurt I was.
Seeing my males look at me like that? It brought back all the deep-seated insecurities I had.
I knew what my mates had done to our prisoners. They’d tortured them. Repeatedly. Mentally and physically. Had I looked at them like they were monsters? No. But they’d looked at me that way.
“But,” a stylist sputtered.
I wasn’t interested in what she was selling. “Please leave.”
The four of them scowled at each other then trooped out of the room, leaving the clothes behind.
“You can take your clothes with you,” I added, folding my arms across my chest to try to comfort myself—it wasn’t working.
“They aren’t ours,” the last one out turned slightly and said over her shoulder. “They were paid for before we even left the store. Whoever they belong to, they were to be delivered here, that’s all we know. Since you don’t want our hair and makeup services, we’ll leave, but unless the person who purchased the clothes wants to return them with the receipt, we will be leaving them here.”
Great. Attitude. Whatever.
Women never liked me anyway, and trying to please them was like trying to start a fire in a blizzard.
I watched as the four of them left through the front door and turned back to the two rolling racks of clothing, pushing them up against the wall. My earlier excitement at going on a date was as up in flames, just as I wished the clothes were.
I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t want it.
Those two sentences played over and over in my head. It wasn’t just about the clothes, but everything. Yes, I had wanted my brotherhood since the moment I first saw them, but I’d been going to an all-girls school since I was a kid. The only guys I had ever seen were the Masters and the servants, and trust me when I said that none of them were appealing. The idea that this had all been manipulated by the Ancients of our society got under my skin.
One of the few things I’d wanted, craved even, when I was at the Academy, was the freedom to live my life with my brotherhood once I had one. Apparently that wasn’t in the cards for me though, just another lie that had been shoved down my throat.
This felt like the final straw. This was the first time I’d felt Morgana’s touch, but how often had my life been swayed by the Sires and their maidservants, as Darius had called them? The Cavalry had directly manipulated my mates’ brotherhood into being, but what about me? What had they done to me?
Anger was boiling inside of me, but it was more than that, it was fury. My life had never been my own, and it never would be, and that was a hard pill to swallow.
A growl sounded, and for a split second, I wondered where the noise was coming from, but I realized I was the one making it as my hands started to pull at the bags and the clothing on the racks. My hands sharpened into claws, something that had never happened before today, as I tore the material and plastic wrapping to shreds. Bag after bag, I went through until a thin sheen of sweat covered me, and my chest heaved from breathing so hard from trying to contain my fury to items that could be destroyed without offending someone, since I didn’t particularly care what anyone thought.
I began pulling at my own clothes a moment later. No one would care if I trashed these. It wasn’t like any of my second-hand t-shirts and leggings were of great monetary or sentimental value. My fangs pulsed in my mouth and my claws scraped against my own skin, leaving thin rivulets of blood in their wake. When a throat cleared behind me, I spun, dropping into a crouch as I moved.
Darius.
He was lounging on the edge of my bed like he belonged there, which only served to stoke my anger. Did he really think he could just waltz into my room whenever he wanted? Lay on my bed like a snack and expect me to, what? Jump on him? Resist him?
Was this a test?
My mind was spinning with emotions and random thoughts to the point where I moved from my crouch to sit on the floor. My t-shirt and leggings were in tatters around me.
“What has you so angry, dulcissima?” he crooned, as though it would soothe away all my anger and worries.
Spoiler alert—it didn’t.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because my life isn’t my own? My decisions aren’t my own? Even my fucking clothes aren’t my own. You bought these, right?” I demanded, remembering what Rhys had said about Darius’s wealth.
He nodded, utterly unconcerned, and managed to piss me off all the more.
“
You didn’t need to do that. I can pay my own way,” I all but snarled at him.
His brow pinched in concern or confusion; I wasn’t sure which. “But you don’t have to. I can help.”
“Did it occur to you that I might not want your help?”
He pushed up off the bed and strolled over to me as though he didn’t have a care in the world, and I remembered then that he hadn’t looked at me as though I were a monster. That was the only thing that stopped me from wanting to kick him in the nuts.
“I know you’re angry. I can feel your rage through the bond. You’re angry with yourself for hurting those women, for making yourself vulnerable, with me for being your mate, with Cade for being right about us sealing the bond. I promise that I will let you be angry for as long as you want, I’ll even leave you alone after this if that is your wish, but this does need to happen.” He sounded so damn sure of himself that it was infuriating.
“Stop. Being. Nice,” I roared at him.
He jerked back. “What?”
“Be you, be real. Be mine,” I growled as I leaped up to my feet, and I don’t know why it happened, but to my shame, it did. My hand didn’t move of its own accord, as much as I might have wished that was the case. No, my anger drove it. The crack of it landing against his cheek was startling, but not as much as how quickly his own Vampire roared to the surface. And I meant that literally.
The roar Darius let out was enough to shake the hangers on the racks and the paintings on the walls. Hell, I’d be surprised if anyone in the house hadn’t heard that. He bared his fangs at me, as though daring me to stand against him. Asshole was in for a surprise if he expected me to back down because this was what I wanted.
It was real.
It was us.
I roared back at him, delighting in expressing my feelings with someone as powerful as myself. Sure, my roar wasn’t as impressive as his, but it was a helluva lot more vicious than I had expected.
His hands grabbed my wrists then as he walked me backward until my back hit the wall. The impact sent a jolt through me, an emotion that seemed lost on me in that moment, one that my rage-filled brain couldn’t quite figure out. I hissed at him, my pursang instincts driving my behavior.
Mercurial eyes looked down at my own with a ferocity that if I’d been anything other than what I was, would have made me gulp. His intensity only matched my own though. When his lips hit mine, it was like someone had poured gasoline on a fire. The fury and rage that had been spinning inside me like I was a centrifuge exploded into lust, and suddenly, I couldn’t get enough.
My teeth nipped at his lips if he dared draw them too far away from me, and though he held my hands pinned against the wall over my head, I was straining to reach him, to connect with him wherever possible. Even my legs had parted of their own volition and welcomed him to press against the length of my body. His whole frame was practically vibrating as he tried to keep himself under control.
I didn’t want control though, at that moment I wanted madness, unbridled passion. I wanted to know that he wanted me with the same ferocity that I was feeling. The idea of Darius losing control was that mattered, and I craved knowing what pushed his buttons more than I craved my next breath. I wanted to see his perfect hair all messed up, I wanted sweat dripping down his face, I wanted him breathing hard and not thinking about anything except us.
“What do you want, Darius?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous to my own ears.
His silver eyes sparked as they connected with my own. “You, mea vita, I want you.”
“You have me. I’m right here. Is that enough?” I challenged, quirking a brow at him.
“I want you naked on the bed. I want you screaming my name while I taste your blood. I want to be inside you when you come so I can feel your pleasure. I want to nourish you and fuck you senseless. Is that what you wanted to hear, Mate?” He growled the last part as his fangs scraped against the tender skin of my neck.
My body jerked under his touch, arching into him so I could feel the hardness of him pressed against my core. His words did more than just turn me on, they inspired me. “What are you waiting for then?”
“For you to give me permission. I’m not going to do something you don’t want me to.” His eyes practically burned into me with his lust.
“Take me over to the bed and fuck me like the bitch I am,” I demanded, my voice husky and gravely with my own need.
His eyes flashed at me then, and his mouth widened slightly as he showed me a little more fang. Without a second’s hesitation, he was moving us to the bed. Part of me expected him to be gentle and caring, but it wasn’t what I wanted, so when he threw me onto the bed I was surprised in the best way possible. He crawled up onto the mattress, and his hands went to my t-shirt first, gripping the threads that were still connected and ripping it apart, before doing the same with my leggings so I lay there in just my bra and panties.
“Get naked,” I told him, before he could move up to kiss or touch me.
“As you wish,” he replied, backing off.
His control was still there, hanging on by a thread, and though I wanted to rupture it, I watched with fascination as he undid the French cuffs on his shirt, carefully setting the cuff links on the side table, along with his watch and a ring that bore the Maximus family crest. When he returned to face me, his shirt was already mostly undone, and his hands went to his belt buckle. Suddenly, I wasn’t content just watching. I pushed up from where I had been reclining on the bed until I was in front of him, and slid my hands under the edges of his shirt, running them over his skin and delighting in the shiver my touch caused.
When his belt clinked as it hit the floor, I leaned back and took a moment to look over my Mate. Lean muscle covered his body; it was what let him fill out a suit without looking like a body builder. There was barely any fat on him though, and what there was I was glad to see, otherwise he would have just been hard ridges of muscle. A small patch of chest hair was between his pectoral muscles, and it perfectly matched the trail which led from his belly button and disappeared into his underwear, bracketed on either side by a sharp, delineated V. Strong, thick thighs emerged from the other end of his briefs and though my eyes had skipped over it at first, it was hard to miss the tent his cock made in the fabric.
While I evaluated him, he did the same to me, except where I was still shy when it came to touch, he wasn’t. Darius reached out and unclasped my bra with one hand, before pushing me back down on the bed. My bra was still in his hand, having slid off while I fell backward, and all that I was left with was my panties. His eyes raked over my body as though he was touching me, and I felt it just the same. My nipples hardened under his gaze and my breathing increased.
When his study of my form lingered on the apex of my thighs, I expected him to peel off my panties with his mind or something. That didn’t happen. Neither of us moved, however, and I could feel the urgency, the lack of control leaving, and Darius becoming more the man I was used to than the one that had pinned me up against the wall.
It was the opposite of what I had been going for, so I did the only thing I could think of, I started playing with myself. One hand cupped a breast, while the other slid under the dark purple satin of my panties.
His pupils dilated and his lips parted slightly, I could see that from where I was laying, but the rest of his body remained frozen. My fingers danced between my folds under the fabric, and I lifted my hips off the bed, giving myself a better angle and him a better view. I paused for a moment and ripped the fabric from my body, something which caused more of a reaction in Darius than I expected as he lunged forward slightly, only catching himself when he connected with the edge of the mattress.
The fabric had fluttered away from my body as it dropped to the bed and I spread my legs wide, inserting first one finger, and then another. If he wasn’t going to join in, I was going to have fun anyway.
“Don’t you want to fuck me, Mate?” Another twitch from him as he edged closer. His
control had to be paper thin at this point. He just needed a little push and he’d lose it again. I moaned as I played with my clit, feeling the electricity spark in my veins at the touch. I took a breath and said, “I’ve been a bad girl, stealing your cell phone, biting those women, hiding from you... I think you need to teach me to be your good girl, don’t you?”
He was on me then, having moved so fast that I hadn’t even been able to track his movements. All I knew was that the weight of his body was on mine, while his mouth claimed my own, and his hand replaced mine on my breast, teasing and tweaking my nipple.
“I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll be screaming my name and begging me to fuck you,” he growled into my ear, before nipping at the lobe.
A shiver of anticipation ran through me and I knew he was serious. We needed to bond, and since I was the one that had broken his control, it was only fair that I play by his rules—at least a little. He stared down at me for a moment, and I thought he was going to kiss me again, my mouth even opened slightly in preparation, but instead, I felt his knees shift, spreading my legs wider, and his fingers zeroing in on my clit almost immediately.
The noises that escaped me when he started to play with me would probably make me blush if I heard them out of context. I moaned and writhed and lunged for him multiple times, but each time he managed to stay out of my grasp, or redirect my attention elsewhere. Finally, I just accepted that he was going to do what he wanted and I was going to enjoy it because there was no mistaking how talented his fingers were.
Within moments, he had me on the precipice of an orgasm. Just as I was about to go over the edge, he backed off, making me whine in frustration. His mouth fell on my nipples then, as he let me cool off and come down from the edge he had taken me to. The more he sucked and licked, the more I could feel his fangs pressing against my skin. I didn’t just want them pressing against my skin though; I wanted them in me.
