by Liza James
How badly I need her.
How much she has become such an integral, powerful part of my life and self-exploration of my strength. No one has challenged me in the ways she has, no one has angered me and frustrated me more in a single moment that she has.
No one has touched me like she has, spoken to me and drawn such intrinsic emotions from me like she has.
Not a single person has taught me and strengthened me like she has.
And now I’m losing her, before I’ve ever had the change to truly live and breathe alongside her.
“We don’t have time to discuss this.” Muffled words and hushed voices filter through my ears. “Binding is not a viable option. We’ve only seen Elijah, Nathanial, and Leon bond to their Fated. We do not have enough current successful cases to determine the safety of this with a human.”
“She isn’t human, though. She has enough celestial blood to present this type of connection. She can survive this.” A softer tone, but none of these voices provide any sort of recognition for me.
“No. We’ve never had a Vampire unite a Fated bond, not recently. I refuse to endanger her like this until we know how feasible it is.”
“You feeding from other girls will cause her to suffer, Na’amah. How can you continue putting her through that?”
Ahh, the Queens. My mind is still heavy with fog, even while it clears slightly with awareness.
Na’amah.
I’m straining to remember my last few moments of consciousness.
A crash sounds somewhere in the room before a wave of ice runs over me. “It’s not fucking happening. Not when I can so easily kill her.”
“You won’t! Goddamn it, we will be there, we won’t let that happen.”
“We have far too much taking place tonight, too much riding on this event. Too many fucking secrets, we cannot tackle this at the moment as well.”
My breath hitches in my throat, my eyes vehemently struggling to pull open when my lips part and the sudden need for oxygen bursts in my lungs. I launch upwards, finally gasping a deep breath and clutching my hand to heated skin of my chest. My eyelids open, and I twist my head toward the voices as I attempt gathering awareness of what surrounds me.
She’s over me in the next breath, her familiar towering figure surrounding me in every sense of the word. Her arms are resting on the bed on either side of my shoulders, urging me to lay back down as my eyes slowly focus their vision on her.
That icy electricity, a current easily rolling between us and sparking along my skin.
And her hair, the strands are down and framing her face on one side. I reach forward, my slim fingers trembling as my body fights to become fully present. Touching them, memories instantly flash across my mind of being at my home in the city.
Touching her. Seeing her hair down for the first time as she let me in and revealed I was her Fated.
Rowan.
Na’amah. The gun. Ice. Blood.
Fuck, all the pain.
It all comes crashing back to me, flaring to life in my mind as my hands quickly grip Na’amah’s face and drag her closer to me. I kiss her, without even thinking of the consequences, pressing my lips tightly against hers in a heady need to feel her alive and breathing into me. But just when I think she’ll pull away, she leans in. Her lips moving over mine in hunger and thirst, devouring me while her tongue slips inside and licks over mine. She’s just as needy as I am, breathing heavily between starving kisses as quiet whimpers fall from my lips.
I pull back, letting my fingers fall to her chest and then stomach where I remember gunshot wound. My eyes rake over her body for any signs of what happened at that place. “You are absolutely insufferable; do you know that?” I bite out when I thankfully find no signs of blood or injury. My gaze snaps back up to hers and my hands tightly hold the back of her neck. “Refusing to feed from me, refusing to let me heal you. How am I supposed to do this if I can’t ever take care of you in the ways you do for me?”
“I will never risk your life like that. Not until we know it’s safe for you. Not until we can properly bond and unite our Fated tether,” she explains, her words just as protective and possessive as they were before. Her hands move over my face and through my hair, tightening their hold as she wraps my strands around her fist and holds me still in front of her.
“When? When can we bind ourselves then?” I ask, unsure of what that exactly entails but willing to face this alongside her.
“Not tonight. We have far too much going on. Too many things we have to keep hidden.” Her thumb traces the heavy line of my lower lip and then sweeps over my jaw in a tender touch. “This, what we’ve discovered, we have to hide. Lucifer, the others in the Kingdom. They can’t know yet. Few of the girls have spoken to Lilith, only the ones she confides the most in. Fira, Thalia, and Sera.”
“Why? You said there were others?” I press her, my eyes narrowing as I lean into her palm resting against my cheek and settle against the comforting chill she provides.
“There are, and I can set up a meeting with you and the other seemingly human girls who have found themselves Fated if you’d like. Luna and Stella. They’re sisters. But the rest of the Kingdom assumes myself and the other Queens cannot be Fated, as well as Lucifer. There have been legislations and rules put in place regarding those we keep around us and if Lucifer can bind in a Fated union, it disrupts the pact he has in place with the coven of witches he currently controls.” I don’t understand everything she’s saying, but I can feel the intense severity her words carry.
“I’d love to speak with them. I want to learn what all of this means, what my ancestry holds that I’ve been unaware of.” I tell her, a quiet surge of excitement growing in my chest at this idea of potential alliance and…friendship. “I understand about hiding this for now. What does that mean in regards to this evening? Do I need to stay away from you, is that it?”
Na’amah’s eyes grow dark and grave, her walls of detachment slipping over her face and masking her emotions. “I’m afraid it’s bit more complex than that.”
Time seems to be moving far too quickly. Racing past me in moments I’d like to cling to. Forget what the near future holds for me as I stand in front of the long mirror in my bedroom, turning from left to right and taking in the details of the dress chose for me to wear to this event.
Long and tight, an absolutely stunning garment I could have never imagined myself. The entire fabric is an illusion of transparency, thin nude tulle that matches that tone of my skin. It’s covered in thousands tiny gemstones and crystals in varying shades of white and blue. Each one is strategically placed to create palettes of what seem to be ice and snowflakes across my skin. Along my chest and arms, the crystals begin falling farther apart, until they are simply dispersed smatterings of sparkles dancing over me.
The fabric clings tightly over my hips and thighs until it falls freely around my calves and ankles, cascading at my feet and over the light blue crystal heels I’m wearing as well. I run my hands over the dress, feeling the tiny gems press into my palms and glow in the dim lighting of my room.
I love it. Truly, I do. It’s a shame it’ll be worn on a night such as this. One where I won’t be able to fully enjoy it in the presence of what’s about to happen.
My heart sinks and my stomach twists with anticipation. I’m not sure how I’ll handle all of this or feel about it in the moment. I’m thankful Na’amah shared her plan with me ahead of time, but it won’t numb the humiliation I’m about to endure in front of countless people. The expectation and wish for this to be over already becomes the overwhelming emotion running through my head.
Suddenly, my door cracks open, the gentle whine of the creaking wood catches my attention. I turn, holding my breath in hopes that it’s Na’amah coming to say goodbye before we pretend to be something else entirely for the night.
But disappointment floods me instead when I see the Fira come into view. “It’s time,” she says, offering a kind but sad smile as her eyes f
all over my attire. “You look stunning, Skilla.”
“Thank you,” I reply, attempting to keep my voice steady and brave. “A shame I have to wear it on a night like this.”
“It’ll be best to wear tonight,” she whispers, her eyes suddenly alight with mischief. “A painful reminder of what has to happen to keep everyone safe, but you’ll look phenomenal doing it.” Her shoulders shrug and her head nods just slightly. “She’ll be stunned speechless with your beauty before it all happens.”
“I was hoping she’d come say goodbye,” I admit, sighing heavily and stepping forward as I prepare myself to leave.
“Oh no, better to keep this a surprise.” She waves her hand up and down my entire figure. “Let her process and absorb in front of everyone.” She finishes with a wink before stepping out the door and allowing me to follow.
I stride through the Kingdom behind her, moving in tense silence while my mind works through every detail I know of this evening. I want to be prepared for every potential trigger, each emotion I’ll face and every pretense I’ll have to manage.
I can do this. I tell myself over and over again, knowing that when this is all finished, I’ll find myself back in Na’amah’s room and in her touch.
The muffled sounds of countless guests begin filling my ears as we move down the hallways. Decorations line every surface, torches alight with each of the Queen’s colors, flowers strewn about the floor in familiar fashion as well. I can only imagine what the actual ballroom looks like, and for a brief moment, a flare of excitement rushes through me for that reveal.
I know this will be stunning and I do love the way my long auburn hair is braided up on top of my head with few strands fallen down around my face. Thalia did my make up tonight, in soft blues and purples that surprisingly compliment my skin tone better than I anticipated. I was nervous for her to do something extravagant, the only experiences I could compare it to were overdone eye shadows and glitter from my nights at the club.
Shit, the club. Those days, those experiences have been so far from my mind with everything I’ve been exposed to now. But a swell of gratitude lingers in my heart when I realize I don’t have to go back there, I don’t have to earn money for the sake of Rowan, or for quick bursts of false validation from useless men.
And Rowan, fuck. Na’amah and the Queens told me he’d be dealt with. They wouldn’t reveal any details, and I can’t help but wonder if their version of dealing with means something far more deadly than mine would. But I choose to push that from my mind, I have other issues vying for my attention and focus tonight.
It’s then that we finally round the corner that leads into the ballroom. My eyes immediately fall to the grand doorway, raking over the stunning veil of flowers hanging in the open space. Long strands of peonies, roses, ranunculus and daisies hang from nearly invisible strands I assume is fishing line. It’s absolutely gorgeous, and my heart immediately leaps in excitement as I briefly what’s coming.
Fira’s hand slides through my arm, linking me up close beside her while we stride through the doorway. She’s donning a uniquely beautiful black, lace and velvet dress that dips low in the front, exposing her chest slightly. Her makeup is also done, but her smokey eyes are shaped like wild wings with crystals speckled in various places over her skin.
Together, we walk into the space full of crowded people. Three large and massively long, dark oak wooden tables are lined next to each other, with more matching chairs than I can I count on both hands. They cross in the back, but hold overflowing bouquets of white flowers and dripping greenery on each one.
More white strands of immaculate florals hang from the ceilings with countless lengths of candles interspersed within. God, I can hardly fathom it, even while I’m looking directly at this artistry.
“Stella,” Fira whispers in my ear as she leans over. She nods to a bright redhead on the other side of the room. The woman stands in a small crowd of people, the clearly powerful and tattooed men towering over her and the other woman at her side. “She’s the one who designed all of this tonight.”
Recognition flashes through my mind at Na’amah’s words earlier, realizing these must be the girls she mentioned to me. The ones who were human but found themselves Fated to Fallen Angels.
My attention is pulled away though when I hear the sudden crash of a glass shattering on the ground. My gaze whips right and I instinctively search for the source, but it’s when my eyes firmly land on Na’amah’s tall and stunning figure that my breath leaves my lungs entirely.
Our eyes collide, lashing through the large space and countless people as if they don’t even exist. Searching for each other, devouring our souls with our eyes and energy. I want to breathe, inhale whatever oxygen I can that she shares as well. But I can’t even move, I’m frozen in place, paralyzed by the way her eyes widen and flare with desire at the sight of me.
It’s subtle, noticeable to no one else other than me. But fuck, I can feel it, and my core pools with arousal instantly.
She’s wearing a suit, tight fitted white slacks with small-heeled black boots. Her blazer is white a well, a slim fit and light blue long sleeve tucked underneath. Her hair is braided into three slender lines on top of her head, leading into one knot resting in the back. The sides of her head are newly shaved, with another design of frost and snowflakes cut intricately into the fade.
She’s otherworldly. That electric blue stare now glimmering with a hunger I can feel deeply from here. Her fangs slip free and practically beg for my fucking attention as I watch her.
I’m consumed. Already. I can’t even imagine what being bonded to her through our Fated connection could possibly feel like in comparison to this.
But she’s the first to break eye contact, pulling away from my gaze and giving her attention to another.
Brielle. Dressed in black as Lilith’s colors even though she’s stepping up beside Na’amah. She’s still so entranced by her. I can tell.
I know what that kind of love looks like now.
I want to dismiss this as nothing, just as I know it is. But when I see Na’amah’s hand lift and rest on the small of her back as she whispers something in her ear, I can’t help but feel that sting of jealousy crack through me.
“Remember what tonight is about,” Fira states at my side, tugging on my hand in order to pull me in the other direction. I’m the only one wearing blue tonight, a clear sign that I’m here with Na’amah despite her indifferent behavior.
I don’t have a response, because it’s unnecessary and I want to focus on other things while Fira brings me to the farthest table where her and the other girls are seated. I can mingle here, wait for the first course when I’ll find my seat beside Na’amah and the other Queens. Lilith also has one of the girls seated beside her, and we’ll ideally move through the evening with light conversation until it’s time for Na’amah make her move.
My head turns toward the door as the sound of heavy, sharp footsteps snap through the room. Everyone falls silent, and the tension thickens in the air around all of us as Lucifer enters the crowd with a woman following behind on his heels. She’s slender with long, wildly beautiful blonde hair cascading around her shoulders. They match, both wearing a mix of black and red in various forms.
He is covered in tattoos, from his neck all the way to the tips of his fingers. An arrogant smile pulls along his sadistic lips and as I glance around the room, I see everyone watching him intently. All have mixed expressions on their faces, but when I look to the small group with Stella and the others, I notice the veil of stark irritation in her eyes. She leans to the girl beside her with deep brown hair and whispers something unreadable.
When I search for Na’amah at the head of her table, I catch her briefly staring back at me, until she snaps her attention back to Lucifer as he draws near.
“Hello, hello, sisters,” he says loudly, leaning down to press a kiss to Lilith’s forehead before straightening himself and speaking to the others. He looks around the room o
nce he realizes everyone has stayed silent, and lifts his hands in a mock bow to those surrounding him. “Please, don’t stop conversing on my account. Let’s drink and dine and fuck and forget about the shitstorm brewing around us, shall we?”
Everyone responds in various forms of agreement and then turn back to their previous conversations. I look to Fira, confusion pricking my mind. She must assumedly know what I’m curious of however, because she immediately begins explaining. “The outside war between Sunan and the Underworld and Fallen Angel race. She’s responsible for killing off many of the Fated unions, and has one of the Fallen held hostage who is already bonded to a Demon named Leon. They’ve been searching for her, but aside from one chance sighting several months ago, they haven’t been able to locate her.”
Ahh, everything begins clicking into place and I thank her for offering the information so willingly before we continue conversing with the other girls. Every so often, I glance over my shoulder when I think I feel the icy breeze of Na’amah’s gaze. But every time I look, I find her lost in conversation with another, or speaking to Brielle with hands gently resting on her figure.
Lilith is watching us as well, and I vaguely remember that I haven’t seen Aggie in several days, let alone here at this event. I would have assumed she’d love being a part of this.
As the night carries on, everyone grows louder, more rambunctious and rowdy. Drinks are flowing freely in countless glasses, spilled wine and trays of liquor pass through the hands of practically everyone. I’ve stayed close with Lilith’s harem, keeping my distance from Na’amah as much as I’ve been able to.
But it doesn’t stop the enticing draw growing inside of me, especially with a couple glasses of wine I’ve indulged in. I’ve listened to Lucifer as well, taking note of who must be named Esme, the young witch at his side he very loudly and obviously owns. No matter where he is in the room, she remains close, his hands on her in one way or another. In fact, her throat is wrapped tightly with what I can only describe as a collar, a thick black band with a metal ring resting in the center.
