Ryze Series: Books 1 & 2

by N. Isabelle Blanco

  It’s thanks to Makayla that I learned about DID—Dissociative Identity Disorder. It’s the brain’s way of coping with extreme trauma. It compartmentalizes itself, sometimes to an extreme where it breaks.

  Looking at my male, at the way he sits on that bed, everything about him so heavy, even his aura, I have no doubt that they broke him.

  They fucking broke him.

  But I knew that, didn’t I?

  I go to him, and although he doesn’t lift his eyes, he moves his legs further apart, making room for me. When I cup his face between my hands and lift it, he closes his eyes and hums in his chest. All the heaviness leaks out of him, just from my touch.

  I swallow, caressing his cheekbones with my thumbs. “What exactly did they do to you?”

  He doesn’t open his eyes, and fuck me, he even smiles a little as I caress him. His hands rise, spanning the entire width of my upper back and sides. He pulls me closer, resting his chin above my breasts. “What they had to.”

  Bullshit. That’s my first thought. They could’ve found another way to—

  What?

  Zeniel was born because Mavrak’s psyche was broken. Maybe it wasn’t what they set out to do, but it’s what occurred. A tiny part of me, the one that’s starting to get an inkling of how the Universe works, understands that everything happens for a reason. No matter how fucked-up.

  But the part of me that’s besotted with this male refuses to accept it. Refuses to entertain the idea that there wasn’t another way to help him. Fuck it, I’m just straight-up enraged at the idea of him being put through five-hundred-years of torture.

  “Please tell me,” I whisper, lowering my head and laying it on his. “I want to know.”

  Zen pulls me even closer. Eyes still closed, he rubs his nose back and forth, right above where my tank top ends. With a groan, he presses his lips to my skin.

  I tremble at the feeling of his lips opening just enough for him to flick his tongue lightly against my flesh. He exhales harshly at my taste. The hum that leaves him vibrates against my skin.

  Whimpering, I latch onto his dark red hair, pulling just hard enough to tilt his head back. “You’re trying to distract me.”

  His lids rise slowly to half-mast. The way he looks up at me steals all the strength out of my legs. He catches me before I can fall, using his hold on my upper back to lift me as if I’m nothing more than a piece of paper.

  I let him position me on his lap, but stop him before he can bring me flush with that delicious cock of his. If I feel it, I’m definitely going to forget about questioning him. “Mavrak, please tell me.”

  He tenses the moment that name leaves my lips. His eyes close again, and a small shudder goes through him. “I want you so bad.”

  “Stop trying to distract me. Please tell me.”

  He sighs. “They beat me. Starved me. The first two centuries, the lack of sustenance doesn’t matter. After that, it begins to take its toll. Eren—the dimension my father was from—is far from Enzyria, and by then, my temple had been moved to the Valley of the Gods there. So I had no real sustenance, physical or spiritual, and eventually, it weakened me enough.” He pauses and shrugs one shoulder. “They needed to weaken me so I wouldn’t fight back. It worked.”

  Eren. Eventually, I’m so going there and hunting some fuckers down. One day. Soon.

  “What do you mean when you say they beat you? What exactly did they do to you?”

  He shakes his head, and nuzzles my jaw, inhaling so hard it sounds like a hiss.

  I bite down on my lip, feeling my gums tingle right before my incisors elongate. “How did they stop you from punishing them?”

  He exhales, and the warm air that rushes out makes my entire body tingle. For a moment, I think he isn’t going to answer my question.

  Then, when he does, I really wish he hadn’t.

  “They would find ways to knock me unconscious and then kept burning or cutting my eyes out. Without them, I can’t hurt anyone. Eventually they would regenerate.”

  I circle my arms around his neck, tightening them as much as I can. Five centuries of regeneration. How many damned times did they have to maim him?

  Zen chokes, then chuckles, bringing me in closer. “It had to happen,” he whispers in my ear, rubbing his parted lips across my earlobe.

  “We will agree to disagree on that one.” I’m breathless and with good fucking reason.

  He eases back, his stare boring into my eyes, and it takes me by surprise. He was shy a few minutes ago, too shy to really look at me. Now, he seems only curious, his brow scrunched up a bit as he stares at me. “You truly . . . you do not hate me.”

  “I would never hate you!” Fuck, my throat’s tight, the words barely making their way out.

  “Only because you have not seen what I’ve done. What I can do.”

  “No. I don’t care. I have an idea; a real good one. I don’t hate you because you can’t help it. Because you don’t really want to do what you do. And, because, no one knows better than me that the world can be unfair and full of shit.”

  “If I could kill your mother, I would. Please forgive me. It’s the truth. But I cannot find her.”

  I recoil at that. Shock. There’s definitely shock. And a twinge of pain that I never really expected. After all those years, and all the ugly emotions, I would have thought I wouldn’t care.

  Then again, this is my mother we’re speaking about.

  “Do you mean she’s dead?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t locate her. Body or soul.”

  He’d kill my mother for me.

  It should scare me, or disgust me in some way. But he didn’t say it out of hate. It was merely a matter-of-fact statement. He can’t help it. It’s an urge he wouldn’t be able to fight.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve upset you,” he says, looking away. “I know she is your mother but—”

  “You can’t help it. I know. So, you’ve looked for her, and haven’t found her. How about—”

  It’s his turn to interrupt me. “I am searching for your brother. Alexis. I don’t know whether he lives or not, but if he does, I swear to you: I will find him for you.”

  CHAPTER 20

  EVESSE

  M y neurotransmitters whimper under the emotional onslaught that floods my brain. One sentence. One damn sentence and it has the power to wreck every emotion I possess, to the point that I can’t move for a few seconds.

  “I swear to you: I will find him for you.”

  My lips part, and my tongue moves to form the letter I. Almost too late, I realize my brain’s intentions, what my mouth is seconds from uttering.

  Gods, I love him. Adore him. As much as he drives me insane, as much as he pisses me off at times, I can’t deny it. And it isn’t because of our shared mating. I began developing those feelings the moment I laid eyes on him.

  Zen stares into my eyes. “Look at the expression on your face.” He drags me closer, inhaling so hard his nostrils flare.

  I close my eyes against the intensity in his stare. “What expression?”

  He doesn’t answer, merely leans in and presses his lips to mine softly. He sucks on my top lip, humming again, then closes his lips around my bottom one. “I wish I knew how to tell you.”

  My heart kicks wildly inside my ribcage at that. Fuck, I can’t even breathe right. The emotions I’m feeling are suffocating the hell out of me. “Tell me what?”

  He shakes his head, a rough, frustrated sound leaving him. “Not while I’m like this. Not while I’m—” He stops, jaw clenching.

  Broken.

  I don’t know how I know, but that’s what he was about to say. Whatever he wants to tell me, he can’t do it while he’s broken in two.

  It’s the same reason why I can’t tell him I love him. I want to tell him while both sides of him are listening, and I don’t know how aware Tranquility is when Vengeance has full control.

  I let my eyes drift to his powerful chest and arms. His big shoulders. My arms loose
n their hold on his neck, and my hands are soon following the path my eyes just took.

  His eyes darken, his irises going from bright red to burgundy.

  “You’re beautiful to me.” It’s important he understands that; to me he isn’t a monster.

  His eyes widen. “How can you say that?”

  “Because it’s the fucking truth, and if you even try to insinuate it’s not, you’re calling me a liar.” I move closer, my legs circling around his midsection. “Do I need to beat your ass for calling me a liar?”

  A surprised laugh escapes him.

  Smiling, I cup his face and play with those gorgeous cheekbones. “You’re hot in Tranquility mode, don’t get me wrong. But like this?”

  He brings me flush against his dick, making me gasp. “What? Tell me, female . . . Then I shall find a way to explain to you, in detail, just how gorgeous you are . . . and how badly I want to eat you.” He swallows hard, his throat bobbing. “Until your skin and blood is all I can taste.”

  That’s more detail than my mind is able to handle. He’s rough, uncertain, but his blatant honesty as he says that leaves no doubt in my mind that he means it.

  “You look more dangerous like this,” I say.

  He looks confused again; his brow furrows and his lips set in a pout. I lean forward, pressing my lips to the spot between his eyebrows.

  “That’s a good thing?” he asks.

  Gah. Those two voices are going to kill me. I can’t wait to hear them moaning for me when I make him come again.

  Over, and over, and so fucking hard he won’t be able to leave the bed for days after.

  Hell, yeah.

  “It’s a very good thing,” I reply. “You look more like a warrior. Fiercer.” I press every inch of myself against him, purposely rubbing my slit up the length of his dick. “You’re gut-wrenchingly sexy like this. And the markings?” Tilting my head, I place my lips right on his ear, and whisper, “I want to drink from you on each one. Just bite down and swallow you.”

  I’m on my back so fast I’m left blinking up at the ceiling in confusion.

  Zen rears over me, hands braced on the bed and arms straight and bulging. He purrs, giving me that vicious half-smile that bares his incisors.

  Not even bothering to stifle the shiver that goes through me, I spread my legs. When I latch onto his sides and try to pull him down on me, he resists. The bed groans underneath us.

  “You are the beautiful one,” he says. “That’s why the first moment I saw you, I had to have you. All of me had to have you.”

  I remember.

  I’d just left work, and was crossing the street. He was leaning against the building across, waiting for me. I hadn’t known him, hadn’t known why he was there.

  Then he accidentally invaded my mind with his powers and I almost killed him for it.

  I’ll never forget the look on his face when he locked eyes with me. I witnessed Mavrak stir for the first time in centuries, even if I didn’t know it back then.

  The same male staring down at me with the primal hunger of a thousand starving beings.

  Shivering, I shift under him, trying to tempt him. “Then have me. Now. Because if you make me wait any longer—”

  He leans down, setting his forehead on mine and closing his eyes.

  I shut up.

  His plump, firm lips part, dousing me with the taste of his breath. Desperation doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel, but I can’t move.

  I can do nothing except breathe him in like a junkie. I have no idea if it’s because he’s my mate, but nothing has ever smelled as good as him.

  My pussy clenches painfully.

  His eyelids do that slow-rising thing again, baring completely black eyes. Eyes that bore into mine with hunger.

  “I can’t hurt you.” His voice is a guttural, hoarse rasp. “The things I want to do to you . . . I’m scared of myself.”

  “Oh my fucking God.” I start trembling so hard that my forehead bumps into his. “My pussy is hurting so much right now.”

  Another surprised laugh slams out of him. “You are something else, female.”

  “You won’t hurt me. You won’t. I’m immortal now. I can take it.”

  He fists my hair, tilting my head back so I have no choice but to look at him. “I want you to call me Zeniel.”

  “What . . . why?”

  “It is the part of me I want for you. The part of me that I will strive to fully become. That is the male you deserve.”

  Despite his brutal hold on my hair, I shake my head, tears reforming. “You are Zeniel to me. But you’re also Mavrak. And I want you both, you hear me? I don’t want you to become one or the other, I want you whole, damn you.”

  It’s his turn to shake. He’s still trembling when he lowers his weight, blanketing me in all that heat and muscle. He licks the shell of my ear, tugging on it with his teeth, clipping my flesh with one canine. He latches onto my earlobe, sucking on it, groaning at the taste of my blood.

  I squirm under him. My yoga pants are drenched through, my pussy pulsating wantonly. “God, Zen. Please. I need you inside me.”

  He hisses at that, latching onto my jaw with one enormous hand. “I’m going to fill you. Deep. So deep you’ll feel me everywhere. I need it like that,” he confesses, voice rough.

  A sexy, dual-toned rumble sounds from somewhere deep inside his large chest, seeming to build until his ribcage shakes with it. He wills my clothes off. Every piece. His follow, and the moment his heated skin presses against every inch of mine, we both jerk.

  “Oh, God. Yes. Now.” I arch, trying to rub my nipples against his chest.

  He cups my face, making me feel tiny and fragile. He captures my mouth with his lips, completely engulfing my own. Despite which side of him is dominant at any given moment, the way he kisses doesn’t change. He opens me wide. Moves his lips against mine as he slides his tongue into my mouth, fucking it without mercy.

  His erection strokes my wet, swollen slit, and he’s fiercely hard. So hard, and throbbing like he’s about to explode over me.

  “Gods,” he gasps, lips still pressed to mine.

  I writhe, my nails latching onto his skin. “Baby—please . . .”

  “I love when you call me ‘baby’. It turns me on.” He bites my chin, staring into my eyes. “No one’s ever called me that.”

  I moan it again, raising my head and trying to flick my tongue along his lips. So close. He just needs to put the tip in me, and I’ll come all over his dick. I know it.

  “Hold it, baby. Hold it. Not yet.”

  Holy fuck, the way his accent and arousal wrap around the word baby . . . I shake my head, back arching, my head punching into the pillow beneath. “I can’t. Oh, God. Zen. I’m coming!”

  He moans, reaching between us and latching onto his cock. He plays with the head, rubbing it hard into my clit. “Making me come with you. Fucking perfect. I feel you throbbing on me. You’re skin’s so hot.”

  My hips undulate, wild and hungry, as cum spurts out of him, hitting my flesh, and setting off even more pulsations inside me.

  “Evesse . . .” His head falls back. His throat is bared to me, every mark and vein thrumming on it. The blunt head of his dick slides up and down, smearing his cum all over me. It passes over my entrance once, lightly. A tease, nothing more. “Gods, the way you make me come. Don’t think I’ll survive being inside you. So tight. I’m not even inside you, and I can tell.”

  He’s panting hard, the markings on his body seeming to throb with his heartbeat.

  It calls my attention to the rest of him. He has more marks, thick lines curving over his ribcage, his oblique, his sexy fucking hips and thighs . . . The way they wrap around his body as it moves is so damn mouthwatering.

  He looks like a wild, tattooed, sex god.

  “Fuck me,” I whisper, breathless and needy. “I need your cock inside me. Fuck me.”

  “Look at me, my female. Look at me as I take you.”

  I didn�
�t even realize I’d closed my eyes. Opening them, I’m hit with the visual of my male poised over me, his large cock in his fist. He tucks his tip right against my opening, and I can’t control how my body starts shaking.

  “Eve.” He groans and grabs my hips, trying to hold me still. My body disobeys and Zen has to all but manhandle me into position, his smooth chest pressing my upper body into the bed.

  “This is for me. Only me. And you’re going to stay still and let me fucking have it.”

  I have never, ever in my life tried so hard to obey someone’s command. When he manages to work the tip inside me, pain and pleasure combine until my emotions, my hormones, my everything is blown wide open and I seize around him.

  I’m undone. Fucking delirious.

  On the verge of blacking out, and we haven’t even really begun yet.

  Zen slides his arm under me, his hand spanning my back so he can scoop me up against him. “Please, baby. Let me have this. Let me inside you.”

  I press my feet into the bed, hearing a dangerous groan coming from the wood beneath it. Bracing myself, I somehow force myself to remain still, even as my inner walls ripple around him.

  Zeniel arches his back, pushing with everything in him. Then, he’s in me—sliding past my too-tight entrance—all hard, male, and wide.

  Pain lances my delicate flesh.

  “Uh. Oh, Gods. Yes. Evesse. Yes, baby. The way you feel.” Growling, he rises above me, pushing in deeper. He slams one fist into the headboard and rotates his hips, leaving my body no choice but to feel him.

  Jerking.

  Throbbing.

  Coming.

  “Baby,” I whisper, barely any air in my lungs.

  It’s too much; feeling him, seeing him, hearing him. But I can’t possibly stop him. Not with his rock-hard, too-hot flesh jerking inside me. The pain morphs into a sick, twisted sort of pleasure.

  Zen rocks into me, forcing his tip so deep that I feel him hit the deepest part of me.

  “It won’t stop.” His jaw clenches. Strands of burgundy-colored hair fall from his ponytail and slide over his shoulders as he stares down at where he’s thrusting into me. “Can’t stop. Need to come inside you again. Too good. Made for me. You were fucking. Made. For. Me.” He punctuates the last three words by ramming into me hard, pushing my head into the headboard. It cracks. Or is it the bed?