My body is shaking nonstop while I fight two very distinct impulses. The urge to kill Calvin, and the desire to engulf her into a bear hug.
“Solomon, don’t just stand there. Do something.”
“No. He’s your mate. He’s your problem, not mine.” He steps away, and then Aurora comes out the door.
She stops in front of me and stares into my eyes. “It’s okay, Sax. I’m not in any danger.”
“Your fucking fiancé was here.”
She touches my cheek tenderly, and sparks fly between us. I’d pull her into my arms if my nails weren’t like claws now. I must look like a veritable monster.
“That’s just a pesky formality. He’s nothing to me. You are my mate.”
Her words finally penetrate my brain and I begin to relax. When my vision is clear and my fangs retract, I lean down and kiss her because I need this connection right now. I wish I could do more than just savor her lips, but when she steps away from me, I try not to show my disappointment.
“I suggest you keep your PDA to zero while you’re in public areas. Nobody knows you’re mated, and no man likes to be cheated on,” Solomon pipes up.
“I don’t give a damn about that weasel,” I bark.
“But you do care about what your actions will do to your king, don’t you?” Solomon raises an eyebrow. “You’re still a traitor’s son, after all.”
Fucking hell. Solomon had to go for the jugular. He always knows exactly what to say to bring me down.
“Traitor’s son? What are you talking about?” Aurora asks the little possum man.
“I believe you’re due for another history lesson, child.” He turns to his office, shutting the door in our faces.
Aurora glances at me with a thousand questions shining in her eyes. Shame makes me turn away. I never wanted her to know about my disgraceful past.
“Sax, are you okay?”
“No. He had no right to bring my past up like that.”
She touches my shoulder, sending liquid fire down my back, which I have to ignore. Dipping my chin low, I cross my arms in front of my chest as I fight the urge to whirl around and crush Aurora into me.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”
I laugh without humor. “I don’t, but it was foolish of me to believe I could keep such a dark secret from you. You have the right to know who your mate is.”
She circles around me, and placing her finger under my chin, she forces me to look into her eyes. “We don’t need to do this now.”
I’m relieved that she’s not demanding I spill my guts out. There are so many things I want to tell her, but my thoughts get scrambled when my stomach decides to roar loudly.
“What was that?”
I step back, hugging my middle. “I haven’t fed yet.”
The acknowledgment pulls my senses into one single direction, Aurora’s neck. Now that I’m no longer driven by murderous instincts or consumed by shame, all I can think about is drinking her blood.
She touches the side of her neck. “Let’s go back to my apartment.”
“Are you sure? What about the side effects of the blood vow?”
“You don’t need to drink straight from my vein, do you?”
My eyebrows furrow. Drinking directly from a person is one thing but cutting them open and ingesting spilled blood is barbaric. Blood bags are a little different because you don’t know who the donor is, plus it’s all very clinical.
“Are you willing to bleed for me?” I ask.
“I’ll gladly do much more than bleed for you, Sax.”
27
Aurora
I’m not sure why Saxon was so shocked when I offered to give him my blood. I’d much rather him drink from my neck because it feels so damn amazing, but cutting my palm open is not a big deal for me. I’m a witch, I’m used to the sharp bite of a steely knife against my flesh. But quickly I realize a simple cut to my hand won’t yield enough blood, so I have to slash my wrist.
His eyes become rounder. “What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to die on me?”
“Relax, I can stitch myself back together with magic.” I keep my bleeding wrist above a clear teacup.
He runs with vampiric speed to the other side of the room and flattens his back against the wall.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I have to stay back; the smell of blood is going to my head already.”
His eyes are red now, and there’s a new tension around his mouth. “How long since you’ve fed?”
“I’ve been drinking from blood bags, but from a live source? It has been a while.”
“Saxon, that’s not smart.”
Ignoring my remark, he points at the cup. “I think you’ve got enough blood there.”
I lower my gaze. “It’s only half full. You need more than that.”
“Aurora…” he growls. “That. Is. Enough.”
Oh shit. I think he’s really losing it. I’d better listen to him. I cover the cut with a paper towel, and then proceed with the spell to seal it shut. Saxon returns to the kitchen, and in the blink of an eye, he inhales the little I gave him.
“I can give you more blood,” I say.
“No. This will hold me over for a few hours.”
“Why are you being so stubborn about this? You’ve drunk more from me before.”
He sits down, resting his forearms against the counter. “It’s not the same. Watching you bleed like that, even if voluntarily, was hard. Back in the dark ages, there were savage vampires who would cut humans and let them bleed out. Some would even bathe in their victims’ blood.”
My spine goes rigid in an instant. He must be referring to Madeleine Boucher. Saxon doesn’t miss the change in my demeanor.
“What is it?” he asks.
“Solomon told me about them today. They were first-generation Bluebloods.”
“Yes. Why was he telling you about those vampires, though?”
“Okay, what I’m about to say is a big deal. I’m not even sure if Lucca knows.”
“Does it involve King Raphael?”
“Yep.”
He squares his shoulders, and frowns so hard that deep lines form on his forehead. “Go on.”
“The Nightingales’ departure is affecting first-generations in a different way. It’s making them crazy. You were referring just now to the Boucher family, right?”
“Yeah.”
“They were the first ones to be affected by the disease.”
“Son of a bitch. Is the king going crazy too?”
I grimace, remembering my vision. The king went mad and killed everyone close to him. But that was an outcome that would happen if Lucca hadn’t wakened.
“Rora. What do you know?” Saxon presses.
“Do you want to know why I agreed to the blood vow?”
“To get the spell to help Lucca.”
“Yes, but there’s more to it.” I wriggle my fingers together. They’re clammy already. “Elena Montenegro has a magical Nightingale mirror. It shows scenes from the past and the future. She made me look into it and I saw King Raphael completely changed. He seemed possessed by a demon.”
Saxon’s eyes are as round as saucers as he stares at me in horror. “What else did you see?” he asks through a choke.
“He had killed Manu, and…” I let out a shuddering breath. “And I saw him strike you down with his sword. He killed you, Sax.”
“Where were Lucca and Ronan?”
“I didn’t see them. But that was a future that would come true if Lucca didn’t wake up. At least that was what Elena told me. That’s why I agreed to the blood vow. I couldn’t risk your life.”
He makes a motion forward but catches himself. “I want to crush you into my arms so terribly, Rora. But I don’t think I can yet.”
“Because of the repel spell?”
He shakes his head. “No. I don’t trust myself. The hunger is still present, lingering nearby.”
“You sho
uld drink more,” I insist.
“Only when I can do it the right way.”
“You’re so stubborn.”
“Pot, meet kettle.” He smiles ruefully, making my irritation melt—and other parts of my body.
I clear my throat, a feeble attempt to rescue my mind from the gutter. “The king has not shown signs yet of deteriorating mental faculties, but Tatiana has. She’s currently locked in her house, watched by the king’s Red Guard. None of her followers know about her condition.”
My news erases any mirth left in Saxon’s expression. His eyes darken as he rubs his jaw, and then he begins to pace in an agitated manner. He pulls his hair back with both hands, yanking at the strands. “Now everything is beginning to make sense.”
“What is?”
He pierces me with a glance that spells heartache. “I believe my father was also affected by the disease.”
“What happened to him?”
“When the feud between King Raphael and Tatiana started, my father took Tatiana’s side.”
Holy shit. Saxon’s dad was a traitor?
“That happened before I was born. I was taught to be believe Tatiana was the rightful heir to the throne. As I grew older, I blindly followed him. But soon after the Nightingales left our world, my father began to act in a brutal manner, killing without mercy, slashing humans and leaving them to bleed dry.”
With hands on his hips, he glances down, letting out a shuddering exhale.
“I’m so sorry, Sax.”
“I didn’t know what was happening to him. No one did. Then I was captured by Lucca’s party. I was twelve at the time. Lucca was older and already a highly trained warrior. He could have killed me on the spot. He had every reason to do so. I was the enemy.”
“But he didn’t.”
Saxon shakes his head. “No. I was his prisoner for two weeks, but he didn’t treat me as such. Spending that amount of time with him, Ronan, and Manu far from my father’s dark influence made me question my blind loyalty to him and the merit of Tatiana’s claim.”
“That’s when you became part of Lucca’s inner circle?”
He laughs without humor, scratching the back of his neck. “No. Two weeks wasn’t enough to completely enlighten me.”
Shaking his head, he focuses on the wall opposite him almost as if he’s looking for the strength to continue. His beautiful face is contorted in so much pain that all I want to do is reach over and erase that expression.
“There was a huge fight and I managed to escape. It wasn’t until months later, when my father finally committed his most atrocious sin, that I finally woke up. He killed my sister, tore her to pieces when he found out she had fallen in love with one of King Raphael’s soldiers. My sister’s murder broke my mother. She met the sun the following day.”
Fat tears roll down my cheeks when Saxon wipes his wet face.
“Saxon…” The words get lodged in my throat. Nothing I could say seems appropriate.
He turns to me, not hiding the pain in his tear-filled eyes. “I wanted to make my father pay for what he’d done, but I knew I wasn’t strong enough to challenge him in a fight. I had to wait for the right moment. You have no idea how much it killed me to pretend I was still a loyal son after what he’d done to my sister.”
“When did it happen?”
“A few weeks later. My father had caught up with Lucca’s small group. He outnumbered them three soldiers to one. It seemed an easy victory was within his grasp, but my father underestimated Lucca’s, Ronan’s, and Manu’s fury.”
Saxon’s gaze becomes unfocused. I can tell he’s right back in that memory.
“Despite their skills, my father did manage to corner Lucca. He might have succeeded in killing him if I hadn’t chosen that moment to exact my revenge.” His voice grows cold and his nails become sharp talons. “Lucca was down, injured. I asked my father to deliver the killing blow. But instead of dropping my sword on Lucca’s neck, I swung it in a different direction. The bastard died instantly. My only regret is that he didn’t suffer. Didn’t even have the chance to scream as my blade severed his head, unlike my sister. To this day, I can still hear her desperate cries for help.” His voice becomes choked up. Shaking, he covers his lips with a fist.
I walk over because despite Saxon’s warning about his hunger, I’m not afraid of him. He won’t hurt me. I pull him into a hug, and when his arms circle around my waist, he hides his face in the crook of my neck. I melt into him, soaking up as much of his warmth as I can. The bond’s magic flares up, enveloping us completely. It seems much more potent now, almost complete. But there’s the pesky blood vow magic, trying to disrupt the moment.
No. I’m not going to let this damn pact ruin this for us. I use all the power I have in me to keep the magic from blasting Saxon away. It’s hard, though, and I understand now the spell isn’t coming from me. The source of magic that feeds it is foreign. It belongs to Elena Montenegro. Son of a bitch. I’m clenching my jaw so hard it hurts. There’s a ball of energy swirling inside of me, ready to be unleashed. Shit. It’s too strong to be contained without the use of a crystal or magical stone. I begin to tremble with the effort.
Saxon pulls away, looking worried. “Rora? What’s going on? Is it the blood vow?” He tries to step away from me, but I don’t let him.
“Yes, but I’m fighting it.”
“Your nose is bleeding.” He does pull away, watching me with guilt in his gaze.
I touch my nose, finding it damp. The blood vow’s wicked magic recedes, but not my resolution to stomp on it until it dies. Saxon grabs a napkin from my kitchen counter and then gently cleans up the mess. His eyes are bloodshot, and his cheeks are still damp from tears. He just shared gut-wrenching memories, but here he is, taking care of me.
“I love you,” I blurt out.
He freezes while his eyes search mine. I don’t dare to breathe while I wait for him to say something, anything. Oh, God.
“I don’t expect you to say it back,” I add quickly. “I just want you to know.”
He steps back and I catch the slight shake of his head. “Thanks. But that’s the mating bond talking.”
My heart plummets. He doesn’t believe me. I think that’s worse than him not saying it back.
“It’s not.”
“I believe you believe the feeling is real. That’s quite normal. The mating bond magic is strong; it can muddle things up.”
“Don’t presume to know what I’m feeling,” I grit out.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. But it’s the same for me too.”
“Are you saying you think you love me, but in reality, you don’t?”
The way Saxon opens and shuts his mouth like a fish out of water would have been comical if I wasn’t hurting so badly.
“I’m sensing there’s a trap here.”
I throw my hands up in the air. “Ugh! Never mind, Saxon. If you don’t want to believe me, fine. I don’t care.”
“I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know what to think, or what to trust. This is new to me, and honestly, I don’t see how you could love me for real knowing what you do now.”
“Knowing what I know?” My voice rises to a shrill. “That your father was a fucking psycho who betrayed his king and killed his own daughter? How could knowing that possibly change the way I feel about you?”
“Don’t you get it? I wasn’t an innocent bystander, Rora. During the time I spent by my father’s side, I committed a number of atrocities too.”
“Did you cut a bunch of humans and let them bleed to death?”
“No, but I did kill innocent people. I just made sure they died quickly.”
Shit. I’m not going to deny it. The knowledge that Saxon did despicable things hurts. It was naive of me to not realize that part of the story until he pointed it out. But I also get why he doesn’t believe that I love him.
“You’re so fucking stupid,” I say.
His eyes widen. “Excuse me?”
“You
heard me. You should go now. I need to process all this.”
“All right. I think I’m going to train with Ronan for a bit.”
“You do that. Just stay away from Calvin.”
If the mood was awkward before, now it just reached tense-as-fuck levels. Saxon squints. “I’ll try my best.”
He strides out of my apartment, banging the door with so much fury, the picture hanging next to it falls to the floor. The glass shatters, but I don’t move to clean up the mess. I simply keep staring at it, wondering how this evening got so messed up in a matter of minutes.
It’s the fucking L-word, Aurora. You should have never said it out loud.
28
Saxon
Bloodstone Institute has two gyms, one used by Hanson for his pitiful Keepers Training class, and an older one, which smells of sweat and blood and definitely needs a fresh coat of paint. The appeal of the old gym room is its location in the east wing, which is currently closed off. We can train as hard as we want for hours without interruption.
This part of the building was open when I was here the last time, but I can see why Solomon decided to shut it off. It’s in serious need of renovation. Peeling wallpaper, dripping pipes, and the obnoxious smell of rotten wood and mildew are prevalent in this area. Ironically, I’ve never seen anyone working on anything here in the past month.
The lights in the hallways are old and dim, and in some spots, they’ve gone out completely. Not that it matters to vampires. We can see perfectly in the dark. As I approach the gym, brighter light pours through the cracks of the double doors. Grunts and then loud cursing reach my ears. Lucca’s distinct laugh echoes in the empty corridor. It’s been fucking centuries since I heard him amused like that. Vivienne did more than lift the curse, she breathed new life into him.
I wish my love life wasn’t in such shambles. I totally fucked up with Aurora. She told me she loved me, and I said she was confused. Who does that? Oh, yeah, dumbasses like me.
Riding on my frustration with myself, I open the doors with enough force that their hinges creak loudly. Everyone stops what they’re doing to stare. I had every intention to say something idiotic, but I’m too busy processing the scene in front of me.
Wild Thing: A Vampire Paranormal Romance (Blueblood Vampires Book 2) Page 17
