Merry Ever After

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  Kellan could feel me doing this, and he knew why. It was my way of letting him know it was okay, the way he wanted to fight this prophecy. I would let him take the lead.

  “I love you.”

  He landed, and I heard him out loud, then felt him.

  I whipped around, and there he was, turning into his corporeal self in the kitchen, right behind me.

  I stood up from the couch, where I’d been sitting, and got only two feet toward him.

  He finished finalizing his transition, and then he caught me.

  I was in the air, in his arms, and his mouth was on mine.

  “Home. You’re mine,” he said.

  I sighed. “You’re mine.”

  We went upstairs.

  His mouth was commanding. His tongue moved in.

  Lust and pleasure wound through me, zinging me.

  My body heated. I needed him.

  The time he took to go to his father and back hadn’t been that long—a few days, but it felt longer. Like months. Space and distance in any form weren’t supposed to come between bonded souls, but it’d been necessary.

  I’d ached for him while he was gone, but now he was here, and that ache was throbbing.

  I wanted more. Of him.

  He laid me down on the bed and began tasting me.

  The corner of my lips.

  The side of my face.

  My throat.

  My chest.

  Between my breasts.

  My right breast. My nipple.

  My left. The left nipple.

  He kept moving down. His tongue moved over me, sensually caressing.

  I could barely endure it.

  I felt myself coming apart at the seams, wanting him, but he held off. He bent over me, moving farther down.

  Down.

  My stomach.

  His hands went to my pants, hooked into the waistband, and pulled them down.

  Rising, his mouth moved as his hands skimmed over my hips, taking hold of my panties.

  He slid two fingers underneath each side. A trail of goose bumps and shivers followed, igniting the ache inside of me.

  I could feel the throb. It had its own heartbeat.

  He looked up, his eyes finding mine, his mouth lowering as he pulled my panties down my legs. Then I felt his lips on my clit, his tongue moving, tasting me.

  A shattering sensation of pleasure ripped through me, and I gasped, my back lifting off the mattress.

  He placed a hand on my stomach, holding me down, and he continued.

  His tongue moved in.

  Out.

  Tasting me.

  Filling me back up.

  He gave a hard thrust, then a gentle rub right after. He kept thrusting, and he held me down all the while.

  “Kellan!” I cried aloud.

  “Not yet.”

  “Now!”

  “Not yet.”

  I could hear his amusement.

  I tried to bring my legs around him, squeezing him in protest, but he used his senses to hold me in place.

  “What are you doing?”

  He didn’t answer, his powers now holding me fully immobile. I was pinned in place as he kept tasting me.

  Another thrust.

  The pleasure built.

  Out.

  The ache tripled.

  In.

  Quadrupled.

  Out.

  Five times strong.

  I pleaded with him. “Please, Kellan.”

  “Not. Yet.”

  He moved over me but didn’t enter. Instead, he slid his tongue farther inside, but then I felt him breach my body. He was merging with me completely—soul to soul.

  I cried out. We’d done this before, but there was an extra emotional element here.

  He was half corporeal. The other part was inside of me, caressing me everywhere.

  My body shook.

  I needed release.

  He paused.

  I wept, a tear sliding down my cheek. Everything was too much—yet amazing. I couldn’t handle it.

  I felt his soul as it grazed against mine.

  And I burst.

  The climax roared through me, and I could hear myself screaming—out loud, in his mind, and in mine. Then, before I finished coming, my body still trembling and shaking, he entered me fully.

  His mouth came to mine, and he started all over again, bringing us both to another release. But for me, it took a looong time.

  A REPLETE KELLAN

  I fortified our bond.

  Shay didn’t seem to notice during our lovemaking, but I did this throughout the entire night. Time after time, I reached for her, and each time, my soul cemented our bond.

  Bonds are supposed to be permanent anyway, but with this prophecy…I was worried. I’m sure my father hadn’t told me all of it, the demon side of him acting on it and holding some back. That’s the part I couldn’t prepare for.

  So, this was my fail-safe.

  If the prophecy came to fruition—and prophecies did tend to happen—Shay would be killed. Not her soul, though. I wouldn’t let that happen. As I kissed her, caressed her, I wove our binds together so that if her body were destroyed, her soul would come to me.

  In a way, I would own it, but only until she would get another body.

  I couldn’t lose Shay.

  I could not.

  I would not.

  This was how it had to be.

  It was early in the morning now, and I looked over.

  Her body was exhausted. Her soul was more than content. But still, I felt the edge moving in me at the thought of losing her.

  I reached for her again.

  I moved her on top of me, facing away, and then I slid inside.

  She gasped, her body bending backward, her breasts arching into the air.

  I reached out, holding onto one, my other hand at her hip as I guided and moved with her, and I kept weaving.

  FRATERNITY KELLAN

  Shay had said we’d go to a Christmas party put on by her brother’s fraternity, so here we were on the Alpha Mu’s front step. The house was decked out in fake snow, candy canes lined their sidewalk, a giant inflatable snowman wearing a bikini top but no bottoms and holding a joint sat next to the house, and they had phony reindeer set up in the front yard.

  “Bah-humbug, my homies.”

  The brother who opened the door in the world’s ugliest holiday sweater gave us the greeting, and I instantly wanted to smite him. Just because.

  He took a look at Shay and frowned. “Not cool. Chicks are supposed to be decked out in slutty Christmas angel costumes.”

  He did not say that, not in front of me.

  Shay glanced my way, feeling my wrath, but the dude was impervious. He looked my way, saw that I wasn’t abiding by the ugly sweater rule either, and his frown deepened. Then he finally saw my face.

  His frown disappeared. He swallowed and took a step back. “I mean, welcome to the festivities.” He cleared his throat. “Uh, may your night be filled with debauchery, your drinks plentiful, and may you find your way home in the literal or scoring way.” He winked, but his throat was still trembling when he was done.

  “Down, Kellan.”

  Damien swept into the room, appearing from I had no clue where, and I didn’t care because my demon had not been satisfied. I wanted to demolish this human in the most glorious and bloody way. I wanted to feel his blood dripping from my hands—

  “Okay.”

  Shay’s voice in my head stopped my thoughts cold.

  “Calm down,” she added, touching my bicep.

  Damien stood between his fraternity brother and me. He didn’t say a word.

  I was on the edge, teetering there.

  If I fell, I’d take everyone with me I could—all souls.

  I’d never been this much on edge, ever.

  “Something is wrong with me.”

  Damien grunted. “You think?”

  “He has this new bloodthirst. I noticed it befor
e his dad summoned him—”

  “HIS DAD SUMMONED HIM?”

  I shared a look with Shay. Had we not shared that with him? I guessed from his bulging eyes that we had not.

  Both Damien and Shay were in my head, but I shoved them out. “I need space.”

  I felt Shay’s hurt gasp. This was becoming a pattern, but I couldn’t do anything about it.

  I wanted to hurt.

  I wanted to maim.

  I wanted to destroy.

  I wanted to bring the Underworld here, and I wanted to start with this fucking fraternity party.

  I tore through the house, going straight for the liquor. The ants moved aside for me, like the parting of the sea. The females liked to look at me. It was always like that—in high school, at college. Some were braver than others, trying to approach me. The males usually had better instincts, staying way the fuck away from me. But they all scattered for me today.

  Alcohol did nothing to me, not usually. A demon could get drunk or high from a kill or sex, but that was mostly it. Still, I was going to try.

  Shay had been right. My bloodthirst was greater, but it wasn’t sudden. It’d been rising in me for a while. There’d been a jolt, electrifying it.

  It had grown and grown, and now, it was almost out of control.

  I can’t trust myself around Shay.

  No. That wasn’t right.

  Shay was the only one I could trust myself around.

  I frowned, pulling back that thought. I brought it front and center, examining it.

  That wasn’t my thought.

  The realization stunned me.

  Someone else was in my head, but they were making my thoughts sound and feel as if they were mine.

  “Who are you?” I roared into the cavern of my mind.

  A giggle. That was the response.

  It sounded like a child’s laugh, a sick and evil child—like a six-year-old torturing an animal and loving it.

  “Get out. Now,” I commanded, and I felt the voice leave my head.

  “Show yourself,” I spoke aloud in Angelic tongue. All beings had to follow a summons from that language, but so few knew how to speak it.

  “You know my language.”

  I scowled, stepping back and bringing up my offenses. This was the Messenger.

  “You’re here for the prophecy.” I sneered. “I can feel the shame emanating from you. It’s loathsome.”

  He was near the back, in the shadows. He hadn’t fully corporealized himself.

  He was quiet.

  I could feel him studying me.

  I frowned. Something was wrong.

  “How long have you been in my head?”

  He jerked, his misty form spreading out before coming back together and firming. Finally, he spoke in hisses, “I’ve been with you since the beginning of time.”

  The fuck? “What?”

  “I can see your father’s been spreading tales. You should know better than to believe him.”

  “I sensed his honesty.”

  “I’ve always been with you, Kellan. I am you. I was with you when you went to him, but he drew you across the boundary. He knew I would separate, could separate from you.”

  “The prophecy was about a fallen Messenger. The last messenger I battled put up more of a show, to be honest.”

  “I am no messenger,” he hissed. “I am you. I am your darkness.”

  “I’m a full demon. The only good in me is Shay’s bond.”

  “That’s not true. You have layers of us, and you have neglected us over the years. You have remained topside, falling in love with a half-messenger. Your demon is coming apart.”

  “You said you were able to separate when I went across the boundary?”

  “Each time you do, more of us are able to separate from you.”

  I wasn’t going to waste my time wondering what truth my father had been speaking. I shouldn’t have been surprised he used deception. That was his job.

  “Why would my father want you to separate from me?”

  “Because he can call upon us. We are still leashed to you. We are a part of you, but he can call on us to do his bidding.”

  Well.

  Shit.

  “I’ve been called to destroy your half-messenger,” he announced. “The prophecy wasn’t that a fallen messenger would destroy her. It was that you would destroy her. I’m here to fulfill the prophecy.”

  SHAY

  Crowman was showing me the fraternity’s collection of Christmas trees. The first tree had been a gigantic inflatable tree. The second was an inflatable snowman. It had scarves wrapped around it, a star on the top, and beer kegs at the bottom to act as a base.

  The third was smaller, made of rolled-up magazines. Different colored beer bottles had been placed on top, and I was told not to touch the magazines.

  Tree number four was perched in the kitchen and made out of beer cans, with a smattering of red Solo cups as decorations. There was also a bra hanging from the top, instead of a star or an angel.

  “Doesn’t it look pretty?” Crowman nodded to himself, a beer in one hand and the other rubbing over his stomach.

  His eyes widened as a scream came from the other room.

  I knew that was bad, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, so I doubly knew it was bad.

  I was turning away from Crowman, already reaching out to Kellan in my head, when I saw the demon.

  Or—I thought it was a demon.

  It was black mist, not fully formed to make a person, but definitely evil, and it was moving through the house as if it were in a race. It floated down the stairs, around the living room, and more screams rang out.

  I was having déjà vu.

  There were shouts, some laughs.

  “Oh, cool!” someone yelled. “How are they doing that?”

  “Wrong holiday, dudes. It’s not Halloween,” someone else chimed in. “Yo! Whatever you are.”

  The black mist stopped in midair, and the top half tilted to the side as if, as if pausing to listen.

  The guy raised his beer in the air. “Turn into a Christmas elf!”

  “Or Santa!”

  “Rudolph.”

  The black mist didn’t do anything for a beat, then it began to spin around. It transformed into the Grinch. A cheer went up from the guys in the living room, and another burst of energy roared down the stairs.

  That one was Kellan.

  “What’s going on?” I asked him.

  “It’s me.”

  “What is?”

  “The prophecy.”

  I frowned. “What prophecy?”

  “The one that said you were going to be killed.”

  “The what that says my sister is going to be killed?” Damien roared.

  I could feel Kellan’s instant irritation, but I couldn’t focus there because the first black mist had zipped outside the house. Kellan tore after him, blasting through the front door with enough force that the wood exploded.

  “Fuck!”

  “What was that?”

  Damien came into the room, pushing his way through the crowd to my side. “What’s going on?”

  I opened my mouth to tell him what I knew, when we heard, “Uh…”

  We turned.

  Crowman was still there, still holding his beer, his eyes skirting from Damien to me. His shoulders lifted up and down on a deep sigh, and a look of resignation came over him. “You guys are doing your thing again, aren’t you?”

  Damien frowned, his eyebrows pulling together. “Um...”

  Crowman shook his head, handing his beer to Damien. “Here, dude. You need this more than me. I’m out of here. Call me when it’s safe for us humans.”

  Damien took the beer, and Crowman left, not rushing. There was a defeated look to him, his shoulders hunched as he moved through the stampede.

  Damien turned back. “Did he just—”

  Then Kellan yelled in our heads, “SHAY!”

  Damien and I both jumped. We’
d forgotten for a brief second.

  “Kellan, where are you?” I asked.

  “In the back.”

  We took off.

  The house was still emptying, and people ran in every direction, including the backyard. A crowd had formed when we got there, and we pushed through.

  At the front I could see two floating black veils of mist trading blows. Kellan was still non-corporeal.

  “What are you doing?” I asked him.

  “How do you kill it?” Damien added.

  “I can’t.”

  “What? Why not?” I demanded.

  The thinner black mist swerved, and the larger black mist countered. They weren’t forming hands, just bunches of black mist as they hit each other.

  “What is that?” Damien shrieked.

  I could feel Kellan’s reluctance, but I was losing patience. “Kellan!”

  He sighed. “It’s me.”

  “What?” Damien squawked out loud before flushing, rolling his eyes, and asking in our heads, “What?”

  “My father lied to me. He got me to cross the boundary to the Underworld so a part of my darkness could separate from me.”

  My mouth dropped. “Wha…”

  Damien said, “Okay. What can we do now?”

  “I have no idea.” Kellan struck again.

  The black mist dodged but then stopped and turned. I felt its attention, and it shrieked in all of our heads. “YOU!”

  “Oh, fuck.” Damien mumbled.

  The black mist lunged for me, zipping in a flash.

  I stepped back as Kellan roared, “NO!”

  From there, three things happened at once.

  There was a giant BOOM.

  Kellan lunged forward, toward himself.

  And I threw up my hands, not knowing what to do.

  Blinding light erupted from me.

  I felt it leaving my body—soul, hands, arms, and every inch of me. I closed my eyes as it happened.

  Then there was silence.

  Sweet, blissful silence, and I cracked an eye open…not seeing anything at first. Blinding white light spread all around. I felt like I was inside a cloud.

  “Kellan?”

  Silence.

  “Damien?”

  Silence.

  Oh no.

  “Welcome.”

  I didn’t know who said that, but I felt a strange sense of familiarity. Out of the white mist, a form came forward.

 

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