“I lost control,” I admit.
“She had it coming,” Weldon throws in. “We all sensed her magic. She was a pansy.”
“Still, I lost control,” I say.
Jaxen kisses my forehead, and then we each take our spots on mats on the floor. It’s surprisingly easy for me to slip into a state of nothing. To let the worries drift away and focus on my breathing. It feels good not to feel any pressure, even if just for a moment.
When the instructor finishes the breathing techniques, she dismisses us for the day. I feel like she’s cleared out my insides and stuffed me with cotton. Like I could float up to the heavens and stay there. My stress for Clara’s gone. My guilt for breaking the girl’s nose is gone. Even my desire for revenge is gone.
Meditation is a miracle.
Jaxen takes my hand in his and walks me back to my room with little to say. He kisses me at my door and tells me that he’s going to go freshen up before we grab a bite to eat, but I don’t want him to go. I don’t want to feel anything except him.
I grab him by the collar and pull him into my room. There are no words needed to explain what I want. There’s no more rationality to be had.
Just primal want.
Just human need.
His lips crush against mine and his hands cup my face, pulling me against him like he’s desperate to memorize the lines of my lips. As if he can’t afford to let go because then I might disappear, and he’ll never have touched happiness again the way he’s touching it now.
And I’m falling hard, totally and completely.
We’re pulling and tugging until the air strikes our flesh and the bed meets our bodies. He’s all hands and kisses and I’m matching him, touching wherever I can, clinging to him like we’re suspended in air and he’s the only thing holding me up. We tangle into a perfect mess that I never want to find my way out of. Nothing exists but this aching fire, heat, and this crazy, maddening passion that can never be quenched. It’s thriving in every part of my body, awakening my cells with urgent need.
I blink and we’re both finally free of clothing. I’m staring at perfection, can see his heart pounding in his neck as he takes his time looking me over. His eyes ravage every part of my body, drinking me in, and he keeps telling me how beautiful I am with his eyes, his words, and his delicate touch. He’s looking at me so intensely; I don’t know how my knees haven’t buckled under the weight. His presence is so consuming, so electric, that I think I can hear his body thrumming.
Being with him is like touching the stars. Kissing the heavens. Seeing a miracle right before my eyes.
We’re both on our knees, running our hands through each other’s hair. Down each other’s faces. Telling each other how much we mean to one another in our soft kisses and gentle touches.
“You sure?” he asks, running his thumb over my collarbone.
“I’ve never been more sure in my life,” I say, closing my eyes when his fingers trail down over my breasts.
He leans in and kisses me softly, taking his time to explore my lips. Taking his time to taste my desire. I can’t get past how rough his hands can feel and how incredibly soft his lips are. Soft like silken chocolate. Slow, as if he has all the time in the world and this is the taste he’s been searching for his whole life.
I feel like I’ve been drenched in moonlight. Like he’s the sun, I’m the moon, and I shine only for him. He lays me gently on my back, and then lowers himself onto me, using his knee to make a path between my legs so he can rest completely against me.
I think I could explode.
His weight feels so right, like he’s meant to fit with me. His body ripples with every jagged intake of air, and I can feel his need. I can feel the urgency between us… almost taste it on my lips as it waits for the moment we both tip over and dive into one another.
But he’s the master of taking things slow. He’s searching my eyes, bathing in my desire, and I can feel a soft cry building in my throat. My body shudders beneath his, and the movement seems to wake the storm between us. He’s looking at me now as if patience was just a dream we both left on the other side of the doorstep.
His lips meet mine halfway, and in his kiss, I think the world is on fire and we’re all that remains. He’s moving against me, roaming the length of my body, and kissing wherever he can find skin. He’s kissing me dizzy, and then I’m searching for his lips as he leaves to trail to my ear where he hovers, his warm, sweet breath sending shivers along my skin as he tells me how much he wants me.
I arch against him until his lips find my neck and his hands have mine pinned behind my head. His tongue slides over my skin with such precision, so slick and warm, and I know that I’ve gone mad because never once did I think I could ever feel this good. Never once have I felt this rushing need to have it all. Everything. All of him.
I moan against his shoulders, my eyes squeezed tight. His touch is a slow torture I want to remain in.
“Faye,” he groans against my skin, his voice throaty and strained, making his way back to my mouth. He kisses my chin. “I wanna see that look in your eyes.” He kisses the corners of my mouth, and moves his lips to my collarbone where they hover, barely touching. Barely tasting.
Moves lower.
Lower.
So low that he’s trailing kisses down the insides of my thighs. His fingers trace paths undiscovered, and I think I feel hunger on a new level as I reach for his shoulders. Reach for something, anything to hold onto. He groans against my skin every time my body involuntarily shivers, and the sound is enough to send my mind spiraling. Enough to paint a flush I’m sure will never go away.
When I can’t take his teasing anymore, he looks up, madness and longing devouring his green eyes, and then his hands grip my thighs and his tongue sends me to another plane of existence. I dig my fingers into his back, and my mind nearly tilts off its axis when he growls against me. He slides his hand up my waist, over my breasts, and down my backside, lifting my bottom up to squeeze hard.
I can’t think straight. I can’t think at all. I can only feel and beg for more. I cry out as I’m shocked to life. Awakened to a world where colors are brighter and heaven is in his arms. He moves back to the insides of my legs. Moves his lips over my scars, kissing them like his touch alone could make them disappear. Trails back up my stomach and over my breasts until I feel him pressed against me, waiting for the moment we can finally become one.
I can hardly breathe—can’t even speak. I’m a jumbled mess of emotions that are all riding a high only he can provide.
He nudges his nose against my cheek. Rests his head against mine. Opens his mind to me, brushing the edges of my mind with kisses.
“I’m ready to give all of me to you,” I say, trying to take in air. Trying not to melt away underneath him.
“So am I.”
I lick my lips. Swallow this moment into my soul.
He’s shivering against me, his eyes so open… so ready for me. He pulls back just enough to smile down at me. His smile alone sends tingles all throughout my body… so intimate… so personal. I know he’s never smiled like this before, not at anyone. I feel every bit of his aching desire. It feeds into my own, pouring fuel onto a hungry flame.
“Faye,” he says with such ache, with such breathlessness, “I want to bury myself inside of you.”
My skin and bones have melted away under the molten heat of his words.
I know this is it.
This is the moment we’ll forge our relationship in the most intimate of ways, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve never felt so ready, never felt the power of every second that passes us by.
He moves back to my neck as he slowly makes his way inside of me, and pure electricity bursts behind my lids the moment we connect. His pace is slow at first, almost careful, as he takes his time to kiss and devour every part of my body that yearns to be touched. My body has never felt so alive, so present. Every nerve ending is on fire.
Heat unlike anything I’v
e ever felt before builds between us. His hips move effortlessly, and I try to keep up as our control is devoured by frenzied desire.
More.
I just want more. I feel like there’s no end to this passion, to this need. It just keeps growing and growing and he feels so good, so right. He’s shuddering and touching, and I swear I’m about to burst. I call out his name, trying to hang on as he grabs the outside of my thighs and pulls me harder against him, pushing us both further and further to the edge.
My mind is no longer my own.
It’s lust and madness.
His eyes squeeze shut.
My heart slams against my chest.
His hands grip my backside as he surges past the edge, and he collapses beside me.
I can barely catch my breath. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to. His chest rises and falls unevenly, and I can hear the erratic beating of his heart. I can feel the calm settle into every inch of his body.
He pulls me into his arms, holding me close. His fingers trail the outside of my cheek as he stares deeply into my eyes. I’m lost, gone forever in the depth of his green eyes, and not one single part of me regrets it. I am his, always and forever, and he is mine.
“That was…”
“Amazing,” I finish for him.
“Sexy,” he adds with a lazy smirk. “Hot. Perfect. Awesome.” He’s grinning like a fool, and it’s the cutest thing I think I’ve ever seen.
“Why did we wait so long?” I ask, running my hand down the length of his arm.
He chuckles. “I have no idea.” He rolls onto his back and I curl up to the side of him, scared that I’ll never find another perfect moment like this one. There’s a flush to his skin, the same hue I’m currently wearing, and I never want it to go away.
Slowly, his smile fades as he pulls me against him. His mind slowly tapers away from mine, shutting me back out.
“What’s wrong?”
He turns just enough so I can see his mouth. “Nothing at all. You’re perfect. This is all so… perfect,” he says. There’s a slight tremble in his voice, a note of cynicism that I want to pinch away.
“Jaxen,” I say again, turning him to face me fully. “Everything is going to be okay.” I search his eyes for the Jaxen I was just with. The man who finally opened his heart. But he’s hiding deep, building walls up around himself, and I don’t understand why.
He drags in a breath and bites his lip. Torture beats against the back of his eyes. Clings to the clarity I so rarely see from him.
“What is it?” I ask, fishing for some small explanation.
“I-I just don’t want to lose you,” he admits, his green eyes finding mine, swimming through the sea of suffering he steadily wades in.
The curse.
My death sentence I so easily forget about.
I pull him into a hug as my heart drops to the floor. “No one is losing anyone. I swear,” I say, pledging everything I have to those two words. Never once in the time we’ve been together have I put any thought into the curse. I haven’t because I don’t want to. I don’t want to accept the truth. I don’t want to acknowledge what being loved by Jaxen Gramm will cause.
My death.
I pushed him so hard to be with me, to accept his feelings of love, that I wasn’t hearing what he was saying when he tried to push me away time and time again. I wasn’t seeing what I’d be putting him through in the end.
He chose me.
He chose to love me, to allow me to carry his curse, and it has to be killing him. It has to be tearing him up inside to know that I have an expiration date because of him. Because of his love.
I hug him harder, wishing for once that words had the power to heal.
Wishing for once that my power was to change fate.
I’M STARING UP AT THE ceiling, blinking in the dark.
I can’t sleep—can’t stop thinking about what’s about to happen, if it hasn’t already happened. I won’t know until tomorrow. Seamus wants us to remain in our rooms. He wants this to come off as his decision to keep our names in the clear.
But I want Clara to know that it’s because of me.
I need her to.
Jaxen stirs next to me, and then rolls to face the wall. After we grabbed dinner and lost ourselves in each other again, he finally drifted off to sleep. I tried to, but my mind was too full, too anxious.
I can’t just lay here. Can’t just wait until morning. I don’t care if it’s wrong or not.
I slide out of bed as slowly and quietly as possible, pushing away the need to wake Jaxen up. I know I should. He would want me to, but I don’t want to drag him into my bad decisions. He shouldn’t have to pay for vendettas. And I fear he might try to stop me.
I reach for my pants and slide one leg up. Jaxen shifts under the covers, and I freeze in place. I wait to see if he’s awake, but he doesn’t move again. Quickly pulling my pants up, I grab my jacket and slip out the door.
I pause when I’m in the hallway, trying to ignore the guilt pressing down on my heart. Jaxen would kill me if he knew I didn’t wake him. If he found out I went alone. But I have to. This is on me. This is my battle, not his.
With a harsh swallow, I put my jacket on, weave a chameleon spell, and head down the hall toward the elevator. The hallway is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I can hear my heart pounding. Quickly making my way through the lobby, I head out the front door of our living quarters.
I know this is reckless, maybe even wrong, but it doesn’t stop me from putting one foot in front of the other. It doesn’t stop me from crossing the bridge over the canal and ducking behind a corner when four Elites equipped with guns march past me toward Clara’s living quarters.
There aren’t many souls out tonight, and for that, I’m grateful.
After they pass, I count to ten in my head before slipping back out onto the sidewalk and falling in line behind them. I know they can’t sense me. My spell is strong.
But I almost scream out when a hand grabs mine and yanks hard.
Another hand slips over my mouth, quieting my screams before they ever even have the chance to escape. “It’s just me.”
Weldon.
He has my back pressed against his chest as he drags me back against the wall. “I knew you’d be too stupid to just stay put. I knew you’d risk it all, so I followed you.”
“But I’m spelled!” I say the moment he lowers his hand.
“And I’m half-demon. Spells are easy to spot.”
I sigh. “Do you ever sleep?”
“Only when I’m bored.”
He finally lets me go, and I spin around on him. “I want to see her go down, Weldon. You’re not going to stop me. I need to see.”
The left side of his mouth quirks up knowingly. “Of course you do, which is why I came.”
I cross my arms. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
His smile shifts into sympathy. “No, you need a friend,” he says kindly. “Jaxen would kill me if he knew that I knew and wasn’t there for you.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, looking down at my toes. “I’m sorry,” I say, feeling smaller than small.
He reaches out and hesitantly pats the side of my arm. His offered smile is awkward. “No-uh… no worries,” he says, his eyes shifting between his feet and my eyes. He pulls out a small bag from the inside of his jacket and hands it to me. “I even brought you a victory gift.”
I look down at it and can’t help the smile that breaks out across my face. “Popcorn?”
He looks ahead as the Elites kick the door to Clara’s home in, and then shoves his hand in the bag before popping a piece in his mouth.
“The show has just begun.”
A loud scream erupts, followed by Clara’s rage-induced voice. “What is the meaning of this?”
There’s a lot of banging around, as if objects are being thrown. I can’t help but move forward. I want to be closer. I need to see. Barely hearing Weldon’s protests, I ignore his relenting groan when he know
s I’m not going to stop. My hand grips the rail to the steps that lead into her house. The commotion has stopped. I hear an Elite reading the declaration against her.
“This is bullshit!” Clara spits out.
I take the first step, peering into her house. She’s on her knees in her living room, dressed in a lavender robe. Her hair is disheveled, and her eyes are wild.
“Faye, no!” Weldon clips from the other side of the rail, but I don’t listen.
I cross the threshold, and the moment I do, her eyes dart past the Elites and land on me. She knows. She probably has some sort of spell woven around her home to prevent other spells from entering. Her eyes shrink in size as every hateful emotion imaginable passes between us.
I take my time allowing my smile to unravel. I want her to know that I know what she’s done. That I know she’s responsible for my parents’ disappearance. What I don’t expect is for her smile to match mine. For her gaze to slice through me. But I don’t waver. Murder lives in my soul and leaks out through my eyes.
When I’ve had my fill, I step back out of the house as one of the Elites lift her up. My heart is racing, adrenaline leaking through my pores. Weldon yanks my arm and drags me back to the corner of the building, hiding us behind a shrub.
“Are you happy now?” he asks on a heightened whisper. His hands tighten around my arms to the point where I’m sure I’ll have bruises. “What happened to working together?”
“She had to know, Weldon. For my parents.”
His sigh is heavy, and he doesn’t let go of my arm. He’s scared, probably thinks I still have tricks up my sleeve, but I don’t. I just wanted her to see me. “She won’t let this go, Faye. This is the ultimate shaming. If our evidence doesn’t hold up, you can kiss this Coven goodbye.”
“It will,” I say, ignoring the dread that clogs my confidence. “It has to.”
Two Elites are on either side of her, holding her arms. The other two shut the door behind them, following behind with guns pointed at Clara’s back. By now, the whole city has woken up. Faces peer out behind curtains. Some stand on their doorsteps, and I revel in the satisfaction of their confused expressions. I revel in the fact that she now feels what I feel, day in and day out.
Evernight (The Night Watchmen Series Book 2) Page 25
