Fated
Page 11
“Are you okay?” Camden pulls my attention back to him as he eyes the hand on my chest warily.
“Yes, of course. Sorry, just had a pinch.” I smile weakly as we approach the wooden table with food and drinks. I release his hand, reaching for my dress and begin running the fabric through my fingers, just to give my hands something to do. Camden pours two drinks and I give him free reign on what to make me, I’m not picky and I’ll most likely end up sipping on it through the night.
“Is he your boyfriend?” The question catches me off guard and I find myself looking back towards our group at the other end of the room.
“Who? Nathanial?” I ask, surprised at the notion.
Camden scoffs, “No. The tattooed one. I think Nathanial told me that was his brother?”
“Elijah. Yes, they’re brothers but no, he’s not my boyfriend. Far from it in fact. It’s complicated.” I turn back towards our friends and see that everyone has resumed their conversation, focused on each other while more of their friends begin mingling over. Stella is fitting in with everyone well and she doesn’t seem to notice the fact that each person is a little different than we are. They’re a little more perfect, a little more polished, their skin shines in a way that enhances their beauty. I have a gut feeling that Camden is an Angel as well but worry it’s too personal of a question to ask.
“Are you—” I pause, readying myself to say the words, “are you an Angel?”
Camden laughs at my hesitation as he casually sips from his cup. “Fallen Angel, but yes. I am. I’m assuming you know almost everyone here is, right? Aside from a few strays of other beings.”
I choke, my eyes widening at his casual tone. “A few other beings? Like what?” I ask.
“Well, Esme over there,” he points to a woman who joined our group by the entryway. Her hair is incredibly long, falling down past her hips in thick blonde waves. She has a few beads tied into her strands, giving her a whimsical aura that is only heightened by the flowy multicolored dress she’s wearing. It falls to her feet and literally sways around her as she turns and moves across the room. Her wrists are covered in gold and silver bangles as well. She’s absolutely stunning and I notice her bright blue eyes as she turns to look at me over her shoulder. It’s as if she knows we are talking about her and gives a little wave with her ring heavy fingers.
“She’s a witch,” he finally finishes, lifting his cup in hello to her.
“A witch. Like a real, actual witch?” I ask as he nods in agreement, a smile overtaking his handsome face. “Is it odd that a witch is hanging out with a bunch of Angels?”
“Not as strange as the Demon over there who is hanging all over James.” He points to a couple that’s cozied up on the couch in front of us. There’s a beautiful girl with long caramel colored hair that falls across her shoulders in straight planes. Her arm is slung around the neck of a man with dreadlocks, all tied up and stacked on top of his head. His dark skin is a beautiful contrast to her pale white. The two are obviously with each other, their hands seeking out the contact of the other with each breath they take. She’s either touching his hair or his shoulder, trailing her fingers down to his wrist while he plays with the frayed denim that clings to her thigh.
“Which one is the Demon?” I ask incredulously.
“She is. James is a Fallen Angel. They’ve been together for around a hundred or so years now.” He says this so offhandedly, like it’s just another day for him. Which it is, this is their normal.
“How does that work? Aren’t you all at war with Demons?”
“Yes. But each of us is different, and just because her race is technically at war with us, doesn’t mean she is. We accept people for who they are, not where they come from or were born from.” His voice is tense with emotion and I can’t stop myself from looking over at his thoughtful expression. He watches them with intrigued eyes, taking in their movements and passionate exchange.
“That’s beautiful, you know,” I say, and he glances at me, a kind smile tugging at his lips. That sharp pain prods at my heart again and I wince at the unexpected feeling. My eyes seek out Elijah’s and we clash, again before he turns his attention back to Sam. I know he’s watching mine and Camden’s interaction. I can’t help but feel loyal to Elijah, but as I silently watch him and Sam, I understand that he doesn’t hold that same sentiment to me. I knew he didn’t, logically. But it didn’t stop the fact that sometimes I wished things were different between us.
“Do you want to go talk outside? You know, away from everyone watching,” Camden suggests lightly. He says everyone, but I know he means Elijah. He’s the only one who keeps nonchalantly glancing back at us.
“Yes, actually. That sounds nice.” We both turn and walk towards the kitchen, where there is a small door that leads to the outside deck. I haven’t been out here yet, but I’ve seen it through the windows. The long wooden platform rises above the forested backyard. There are black iron railings that line the entire deck in an elegant way, framing the edges softly and adding a bit of femininity to the feel of the house.
Stepping outside, I realize that I didn’t know how chilly it was this evening. I wrap my hands around my upper arms, rubbing furiously to create some heated friction. Camden immediately notices and turns back around to head inside. He returns quickly, this time with a throw blanket that I know is Elijah’s. It was probably folded up in the wicker basket he usually has setting next to the couch.
Camden steps behind me, holding it up in offering and when I nod, he shifts forward to wrap the soft, burgundy blanket around me. His large hands envelope my shoulders as his chest frames me from my back. I tug the blanket closer around me as mixed sensations of Elijah’s scent, but the feeling of Camden’s unfamiliar body surrounds me.
He steps back and gives me space, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he watches me with curiosity. “Are you bonded to him?” his voice is lower, still kind, but with a hint of intrigue as it ghosts over me.
I glance away quickly and absently suck my bottom lip into my mouth, scraping my teeth across the thin flesh. I’m not sure how to answer him. Is it that obvious in the way I’m around him? Isn’t this supposed to be a secret, in case Amelia and Danner find out?
“You don’t have to admit it, truthfully. It’s rather easy to tell,” he continues as he scrubs his hand over the scruff covering his face. My eyes shoot back to him as worry courses through me. He laughs. “He watches you like you’re the only person in the room. Even while Sam hangs off of his arm like it’s her lifeline. You don’t watch him, but it’s only because you’re actively seeking other places to train your eyes. Why is that? You said he wasn’t your boyfriend.”
“Is this twenty questions? I hardly even know you,” I bite out. I’m not intentionally being rude but as fear builds in my stomach at his ability to so easily pick us out, I’m unsure if I made a mistake somewhere.
“Hey, I’m not trying to press you. I’m just trying to get to know you. If he’s not your boyfriend, then maybe you’d be willing to get to know me. However, if you’re bonded and he is, well that’s quite a complication.” He’s being genuine, I can hear it in the slight lilt his voice takes on, as if he’s trying to comfort me in this strangely complex mess I’ve found myself in.
I pull the blanket tighter around my shoulders, slowly breathing in the scent and using it to calm my nerves. Oddly enough, I do find it comforting. I find him comforting, even as I realize he’s asking me out. While part of me is loyal to Elijah, I remind myself that he has Sam and has made it perfectly clear he isn’t interested in anything other than a platonic existence with me. Maybe I could use a few new friends, or a distraction from everything going on around me.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I state simply. A small smile pulls at his lips until it’s stretched wide across his face. The tiniest flitter of hope dances across my chest as a small laugh works its way up my throat.
“Well then, I’m glad to hear it.” There’s a slight awkward
pause of silence, where neither of us knows exactly what to say next. Camden breaches the tension easily, “So, tell me about yourself, Luna. How did you find yourself mixed up with Angels? I can tell you aren’t one of us, or at least not fully.”
I decide to trust him, maybe not with every detail. But with some, the vague outline of how I got here. So, I open up and tell him as he watches me with clear, focused intent, on every word that falls from my lips.
I shouldn’t have drank. That’s for fucking sure.
But I also didn’t know that Nathanial was going to swoop in here with some blind date for Luna. That’s not how this is supposed to work and definitely not in my own home. I assumed that when Luna moved out and moved on, we’d both have figured out a way to deal with this bond separately from each other. Now, I’m stuck, hardly feeling any of the bond between us because I stupidly chose to numb it away in frustration.
Hell, I can’t even be mad. I’m fucking Sam in the same house as her all the damn time. But she doesn’t know that I simply use Sam as a distraction from her. Every time I see Luna waltz through my house like this place is equally hers. Every time I walk into the kitchen and find her bent over in front of the fridge, usually in her tight jogger athletic pants and an even tighter work out top. Her perfect ass showcased just for me and her tight nipples, peaked at the simple sound of my voice. Every time her and I have a new conversation and she digs just the tiniest bit deeper into my life. Every time we connect, I’m reminded that she was created flawlessly for me.
When she asked me about the Fall, the vaguest sense of déjà vu danced through my mind. Something pulled at my memories, begging to be connected with something that didn’t exist. She pulls different aspects of my life together in ways I never anticipated and in ways that only leave me more confused, like I’m missing giant pieces of the puzzle before I gain the entire picture.
She grows on me every second of every day that we are together. My body craves her, but my mind seeks her out even more. When I need her more desperately than any addict could need his drug, that’s when I look for Sam. She doesn’t know that I’m only seeing Luna’s tight body under mine when we fuck. She doesn’t know how when I close my eyes and fist my fingers through her hair, I’m only seeing Luna’s dark brown locks twisted around my fingers.
It’s shitty. I know it is, but I’m a Fallen fucking Angel and I never claimed to be fair. My only redeeming factor is that Sam knows this thing between us is temporary. Every time she mentions being in a relationship with me or going out on a date with someone else, I make it clear that she is perfectly capable of doing whatever she wants and fuck whoever she wants.
Tonight however, Nathanial crossed a fucking line by bringing Camden here.
“What the hell is that about?” I grit out once Nathanial and I have a moment alone. Stella is busy talking with Esme and I painfully watched Luna leave to go out back with Camden a little while ago.
“I don’t know why you’re being such a dick. She needs to meet new people. You keep her in here like a prisoner while you flaunt Sam around like a damn trophy.” Nathanial doesn’t even look at me while he speaks, keeping that fake smile plastered to his face.
“Excuse me? Everything I’ve fucking done was to keep her safe. If she is a Fated—”
“She is a Fated. She’s your fucking Fated.”
“No one can know. They would hunt her down and kill her in an instant. You’re risking everything I’ve worked for.” I turn my body and step directly in his line of vision so that he has no choice but to look at me. He doesn’t know who she came from, who her parents are. He hasn’t fully comprehended that she’s both Demon and Angel.
I’m a selfish prick and refuse to take her for myself but can’t stand the idea of her being with Camden. If she was in danger, if she died, I wouldn’t survive it. I hate the reality of this fact but it’s true. Fated pairings live and thrive from each other, without the one, the other simply can’t survive. Luna truly is my other half, one I hopelessly wish wasn’t plaguing my life. But my Fated, just the same.
“No one will find out, Elijah. No one knows other than us. Hell, I doubt you’ve even told her. Have you?”
My house is currently crowded, yes. Filled with people who could find out about us. But every single person here is someone I’ve known for years, someone I trust or someone who is on our side of the war. I would never invite anyone I didn’t know in immense detail. Camden, while my brother knew him, wasn’t good enough. I don’t know a damn thing about him.
“No. Of course not. I’m not putting her in danger like that. She only knows what she absolutely needs to.” I glance back over my shoulder, willing her to walk back through that door any second now.
“No, but you’ll torture her in the damn process,” Nathanial says quietly, but so firmly that it radiates through my bones. I slam my fist on the wall behind him, catching everyone’s quick glances as they try to interpret our interaction.
I drop my voice, “I drink. I fucking drink to drown out the bond so she doesn’t feel all this bullshit. Okay?”
“Get rid of Sam,” he demands.
“No. I can’t.” I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste the tangy bitterness of blood in my mouth.
“What the hell, why not?”
I pause, silent tension building between us. “If I get rid of Sam… if it’s just Luna and I…” I trail off, forcing the words to stay glued inside my throat.
Nathanial laughs mockingly, as if he couldn’t be more annoyed at my resistance. “You wouldn’t be able to stay away from her. I know. You’re a fucking idiot. So, Camden is here, and if anything happens between them, you don’t get to say a damn thing about it.” He moves to step around me and leave our conversation, but a quick thought worries my mind.
“Camden. How do you know him?” I ask quickly, before he has the chance to leave entirely.
“He works at the Capital with me. He’s safe, I promise Elijah.”
“What is his skill? His ability?”
Nathanial seems annoyed with me, rolling his eyes with a scoff before he turns in order to ignore my question.
“Answer me,” I growl it out in a snarl, my lip curling back over my teeth at my brother’s clear disregard. My tone provokes him and he turns on his heel before stalking directly up to my face.
“Since you can’t seem to leave this alone and you’re my brother, I will tell you. But not because he or Luna owes you a damn thing.” He pauses, his chest heaving with angry breaths. I don’t break eye contact, I’m not afraid of him and we both know that I could force him to tell me if I wanted him to. “He reads bloodlines. He can find ancestors, blood complexes, uncover blood bonds. That sort of thing. He specializes in DNA at the Capital.”
I feel the blood drain from my face as the icy revelation hits me. He can find out who her parents are. He would be able to sense the kind of blood that runs through her veins.
“How? How does he read it?” I ask as countless thoughts come crashing through my mind.
“He can only read through touch, why? What—”
“Fucking hell, Nathanial. What have you done?” I grind out as I immediately push past him, rushing towards the deck on the back of my home. As I enter the kitchen, I move quickly towards the door, but stop abruptly when I catch their shadows only a few feet away from me.
Luna stands there, her back pressed tightly against the railing while Camden’s larger frame surrounds her from the front. They’re angled slightly, so I can see that his hand is clutched around her wrist, his thumb grazing back and forth across her soft skin. The simple fact that his hands are on her has my blood boiling, but the sight of his lips pressed tightly against hers as he grips her waist with his other hand, has me seeing red.
I break through the door so loudly, that Luna rips away from Camden in surprise. Her wild eyes fly to mine as she drops the blanket that was wrapped around her shoulders. Camden doesn’t look phased, he simply turns towards me and steps ever so slightly in
front of Luna, as if he’s fucking protecting her. From me.
Rage builds in my chest and I have to use every ounce of strength inside of me not to rip his throat out. “How dare you fucking touch her?” I growl. Luna’s gaze keeps jumping from Camden to myself and back. She is visibly trembling, and I ache to pull her to my side and away from the man in front of me.
“Excuse me?” he asks simply.
“Get the hell out of here.” My hands are fisted at my sides, my fingernails digging into my palms.
“Elijah, stop. You can’t—” Luna’s voice is small, worry lining her words as she speaks. I’ve never seen her like this. Guilty. Apprehensive. As if I caught her off guard and her usual bold sass isn’t in place to protect her.
“The hell I can. This is my home. I control who’s here.”
“I asked him to,” she states, a little more loudly this time as she tries to find her self-reliance. The confession ripples through me in an agonizing reminder that I pushed her into this situation. She has no reason not to be interested in another man. But that doesn’t stop the unjustified anger that rises in me at her words. I close my eyes briefly as I process what she says.
“He told me he could help. He could tell me who my parents were, where I came from, why I’m here.” She’s pleading with me to understand, to settle down in the face of reason. I wish more than anything I had the bond open between us so that I could literally feel what she’s trying to convey.
“Have you told her?” Camden interrupts, a challenging tone coating his voice.
My eyes shoot to him in warning, threatening him with my stance to keep his fucking mouth shut.
“Told me what?” Luna asks, stepping forward to stand in between us. Her eyes swing back to me, searching for the answers she wants.
“Don’t. She doesn’t need to know,” I caution.
“She definitely needs to know,” Camden responds flatly, laying his hand on her shoulder in support. I instantly want to rip it off of his body. Bloody mess and all, I want him away from her.