by Eve Newton
“Ah! Fuck, Cahl! Yes!” I scream as he starts taking control, pounding into me and matching the furor of the wolf within.
It’s a whirlwind of intensity.
There’s no thinking. Just feeling. Just pleasure.
I can barely breathe through it as I meet him thrust for thrust.
He’s given into it too and the wild, passionate look in his eyes sends a delicious thrill through me.
He carries me over to the bed and rips me from his dick and tosses me on the bed. I land hard, bouncing on my back. He doesn’t give me a chance to catch my breath. He grabs me, flipping me onto my front.
And then he’s back inside me, impaling me so deeply, I cry out from the shock of it.
He leans over my back, grasping at my hair and pulling it. He kisses my shoulders, my neck, smothering me with his mouth. And then his tongue. His teeth.
It’s overwhelming. I’m screaming, screaming at the top of my lungs.
“I cannot get enough of you,” he tells me on a whispered, husky breath.
I never knew it was possible for a man to be tender and rough at the same time. But here Cahl is now, doing just that.
“Cahl?” I gasp out, barely able to speak, because he’s fucking me so hard.
“Yes, princess?” he responds, slowing a little and kissing my neck lovingly.
“You’re so perfect.”
“No. We are. Together.”
I turn my head to see him over my shoulder. “I love you.”
A sweet smile plays on his lips as he tells me, “I love you.”
He flips me again so he’s on top, with me looking up at him. “I needed to see you.”
I grip his shoulders, holding him tightly. “I won’t let them take you from me. Whatever it takes, I’ll get your immortality back.”
“Princess,” he starts, his voice hoarse with emotion.
But I don’t want to hear the rest. I don’t want him to tell me it’s too dangerous, or any of that. I just want him to know that I’m all in with him now. I’m not holding back anymore. I’ve been so closed off to everyone all my life. So defensive. My heart locked up tight. Cold. But he’s broken through all of that. He’s brought a sense of love into my life. And there’s no way in hell I’m gonna lose that now. I don’t care what it might cost, or how dangerous it might be, I won’t let the Jurisdiction take him from me. I won’t let anyone. Him and me? It’s a forever deal. No one is gonna fuck with that.
The sudden feel of his fingers dragging through my soaked pussy jolts me from my thoughts. I’m so worked up that I’m already right on the edge. He pulls out slowly and then thrusts back inside me hard, jerking me up the bed from the power of it. He does it over and over again as he plays with my clit, pinching, lightly pulling and tapping rapidly.
My orgasm slams into me, an explosion of epic proportions, ripping through every fiber of my being and making me scream out at the top of my lungs.
He crushes me to him, grunting as he comes with me.
We both lay together in silence for a while, as we come down from the intensity of what we just did.
“It is better when you do not hold back, yes?” Cahl asks, pushing up on his hands so he can look down at me beneath him.
I grin up at him and nod.
He grins back at me and kisses my forehead. He rolls off me and breathes a deep sigh of satisfaction.
I sit up and glance around the room. It’s a mess of destruction. “Shit.”
“Do not worry, princess.”
I watch as he tiredly lifts his hand and snaps his fingers.
Instantly, everything is fixed and back in the pristine condition it had been before we’d trashed the room with our fierce, wild sex.
“Phew. Draven would’ve been pissed.”
“Indeed.”
“He’s pretty dark. Not someone I want to piss off,” I muse.
“Yes. He and the vampire are well suited.”
I turn to him, picking up on the disdain in his voice. “You don’t like Ember?”
“It is not a case of liking or disliking. I do not have any personal sentiment for her. However, she is most certainly dark and with such darkness comes unpredictability and a great potential for danger.”
I nod. “I get it, but we all have the same agenda, Cahl. I wouldn’t worry.”
He closes his right fist. That same black glow from earlier emanates from his hand. A moment later, he opens it and the amulet is right there on his palm. He holds it between us and fixes me with a serious look.
“What? Please don’t start in on the whole amulet thing again, Cahl.”
“I will not. I have made my reservations clear to you. I merely wish to inform you that you must not wear it during the ritual tomorrow. The full strength and essence of the wolf must be accessible.”
“Okay.”
A knock at the door startles us both.
“Yeah?” I call out.
“It’s Draven.”
“One second!”
I scramble off the bed and hurry into the bathroom. I snatch the two black, silk bathrobes off the back of the door and slip mine on as I walk back into the bedroom. Cahl is standing by the bed, grinning at me.
I toss him his robe and ask, “What’s so funny?”
“You.”
“Why?” I ask, tightening my robe as I cross to the door.
“Do you forget that I can dress us both in an instant with my magic?”
“Oh, shit. Yeah, I didn’t think.”
He shrugs on his robe and ties it as he joins me by the door, just as I open it.
Draven is leaning casually against the wall. He smirks slyly when he sees the state of us. Our hair is frazzled, we’re glowing with sweat and we’re in robes in the middle of the day. It’s pretty damn obvious what just went down in here.
“What’s up?” I ask, wanting to blow past this awkwardness.
“May I?” he asks, gesturing behind us to the bedroom.
Cahl and I both step back to allow him through and Cahl shuts the door.
Draven walks into the room and then turns back to face us. Hmm. He seems anxious.
“Something wrong, Draven?”
He shakes his head and answers, “No. I just came here to brief you on a few things about the ritual we’ll be performing tomorrow.” He closes his eyes and brings his hands together. I gasp in surprise as a brief flash of white light erupts around the room.
“What the hell was that?”
Cahl wraps his arms around me and says, “I believe it was a glamor.”
Draven opens his eyes and lowers his hands. “It will prevent anyone outside this room from hearing what we’re about to discuss. All they will be able to hear is a casual conversation of no consequence.”
“Anyone being Ember and Jacob?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Not Jacob. He is already aware of what I’ve come to discuss with you both. You must let him help when the time is right.”
Frowning in confusion, I ask, “What? What are you talking about?”
“Jacob is the last line of defense, should something unfortunate befall me. He has the ability to control the magic within the coven. The wards, for example. He knows the precise spell to lower and raise them and much more beyond as well.”
Wow. “Is that…likely then…that he’ll be needed?”
Draven waves his hand dismissively. “Doubtful. It’s just a precaution.”
“We understand,” Cahl says.
“Okay, sure. As much as I’m not a fan of him, we won’t stop him from helping, if he really needs to. But, about you intending to keep this from Ember, that’s easier said than done,” I tell him. “You do remember that she has visions and stuff, right?”
“Yes. I believe she may have already had one, regarding the ritual, but she remains tight-lipped. Also, she tends to bury things she doesn’t like, things that upset her. So, even if she has seen what I think she has, she has likely just buried it and pushed it aside. However, part of her g
ift is the ability to change what she sees. I believe she thinks that tonight she has done just that and as long as I don’t acknowledge it, things will be fine. Hence the glamor. It cannot be confirmed to her. She won’t react well at all and she may try to prevent the ritual from happening. I cannot allow that. It must come to pass, no matter what the price may be.”
“The price?” I demand. What the hell is he getting at here? What price? What’s going on?
He and Cahl exchange a knowing look. I pull from Cahl’s hold. “You know?”
“I know what the spell requires, so it is easy to anticipate the potential consequences.”
“The spell needs all of my power,” Draven adds. “Everything I have.”
“What does that mean? It’s gonna drain you?”
“Yes.”
“Will it…kill you?”
He shifts his weight uncomfortably. “I’m not sure.”
“But it is a definite possibility,” Cahl cuts in.
“Regardless,” Draven cuts in harshly. “If the worst should happen, Jacob will take the necessary actions to protect you all, should I be unable to.”
Before it goes any further than that, I ask Draven, “Why are you telling us? What do you need?”
“There will come a point where I will weaken. It will be noticeable. I need both of you to make sure Ember doesn’t try to disrupt the spell. No matter what. I’ll be absorbed in concentration. I won’t be able to stop her myself. But the two of you must.”
“I will assist if needs be,” Cahl says. “Defeating the Jurisdiction is paramount.”
The two of them look to me for my confirmation. “Fine, but if she tries to tear through my fucking neck in a fit of rage, I’m out. Got it? She’s not gonna be happy and I don’t blame her.”
“It’s for the greater good,” Draven says.
“I know,” I murmur. Although I’m not happy about it, about basically deceiving Ember, I understand the importance of the spell succeeding. Without it, none of us will be able to stop the Jurisdiction. I won’t be able to protect my species. I won’t be able to save the ones being held in the Realm. And I won’t be able to save Cahl from a mortal fate. “But, for the love of God, try not to die.”
A bittersweet smile plays on his face. “I’ll try my best to avoid it.”
“Good. Do that.”
“It’s nice that you’re so concerned for my wellbeing, Aria.”
“It will kill her if she loses you.”
Our eyes lock intensely and he nods slowly. “I know.”
Shit. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, because I can only imagine what it’ll do to Ember. She’s a very closed off person. Very guarded. And unhappy. But then she met Draven and all of that changed. She changed. She’s happy now. I get that better than anyone does. Fuck. Nothing can happen to Draven. It just can’t.
“All right. I have a few more things to prepare for the spell. Thanks for your help,” Draven says.
All I can do is nod as he strides out of the room.
Good luck.
Chapter 26
~Aria~
“Could this place be any creepier?” I mutter as we pass through the gates of the mammoth cathedral that’s towering up towards the sky a few feet ahead of us.
I jump as the creaky, rusted metal gates slam shut behind us.
Cahl chuckles at my reaction and squeezes my hand reassuringly. “It is just the wind.”
Ember looks over her shoulder and grins at me. “Scared?”
“Shut it,” I grunt.
She laughs and turns back around, following on Draven’s heel.
He’s barely said a word since we left the mansion a little while ago. He’s really been out of it. I’m not surprised, given what’s at stake with the spell. It’s a hell of a lot of pressure. Ember’s been a little off too, because of him being so distant and unaffectionate with her. He’s barely looked her way. He hasn’t held her hand once. He hasn’t walked beside her. Nothing.
“Death makes you uncomfortable,” Cahl says suddenly.
I pull my gaze from the dozens of gravestones situated all over the ancient, abandoned cathedral grounds either side of the dirt path we’re walking on. It’s pitch black and the wind is whistling through the trees around us, making the whole thing incredibly creepy, like a stereotypical scene from every horror movie ever made.
“I…I’m not a fan of it, if that’s what you mean,” I tell Cahl.
Ember scoffs. “Typical.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Typical wolf reaction,” she says over her shoulder. “Revolted by death. It stems from your fear of it. It’s where the centuries-long feud between vampires and werewolves comes from—your side. Wolves being afraid of the living dead.”
“I do not believe that is entirely true,” Cahl says, letting go of my hand and wrapping his arm around me instead in a protective gesture. He’s defending me in that sweet, chivalrous way of his.
Ember rolls her eyes. “Oh, please, soldier boy. Of course it is.”
Cahl smiles down at me as he tells her, “Wolves are all about life. They are warm-blooded, passionate, wild and vivacious. The opposite of death. Aside from Aria, they are also mortal. The living dead fly in the face of all of that, of everything that they are. They upset the natural order—the circle of life. To wolves, the very existence of vampires and all creatures who walk the earth in spite of death are abominations. To do so takes away from what life means. The gift that it is. That is the wolf outlook.”
Wow. He knows way more about wolves than I even realized. I mean, I knew he had a breadth of knowledge. His job was to hunt us. To do that, he’d have to know his prey well enough. But this is even deeper than that.
He looks to me for my confirmation. Grinning, I tell him, “Spot on, baby.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Ember sneers. “Some of us are fucking born, you know? Not dead. Asshole.” She mutters the last word under her breath and then she turns her attention to scanning our surroundings.
I stretch onto my tiptoes and kiss Cahl’s cheek.
“What was that for?”
I shrug. “Just because.”
“Let’s get a move on!” Draven yells, cutting through the moment between Cahl and me.
He thrusts a bolt of blue fire at the huge oak entrance doors. They fly open and he strides on in, disappearing into the dark interior.
Cahl and I move our asses and catch up with Ember ahead of us, just as she enters as well.
As we step over the threshold, a bright light suddenly floods the cathedral. Magical lighting.
“Ow! Shit, Draven! Give me a warning next time,” Ember grumbles, squinting and rubbing her eyes.
Yeah, that must’ve hurt like a bitch. A sudden influx of bright light to her sensitive vampire vision probably felt as though it was literally burning her retinas.
Cahl raises an outstretched hand and slowly closes his fist. The bright light dims.
Ember spins around in surprise. “Thank you,” she says with a grateful smile.
“Sorry,” Draven tells her over his shoulder as he stands before the altar at the far end of the room.
She mutters some curses under her breath and then makes her way down the aisle towards him with Cahl and me following after her.
The interior is beautiful. Hundreds of intricately carved pews surround either side of the aisle. Age-old majestic paintings line the walls. The windows are amazing works of art in their own right—stained glass visions. There are several pillars all encased in gold, or at least plated gold. The altar is trimmed with it as well and there are several religious effigies behind it that look just as expensive and luxurious.
Draven turns and hoists himself onto the altar. He sits on it and crosses his legs. He holds out his hands to either side of him with his palms upturned and closes his eyes. After a few moments, blue flames suddenly erupt on both his palms.
“Holy shit,” I gasp in surprise.
His eyes snap ope
n and he tells us, “This is the precise spot.”
“Sacred ground,” Ember says.
“A cathedral?” Cahl asks. “How is this sacred for our purpose? This is a place of worship for those who practice Catholicism.”
“That wasn’t always the case,” Draven says. “It’s the site of a great battle that took place centuries ago. A dark warlock and his followers called hundreds forth from the dead. Reanimated their corpses, intending to command them as his army to overrun humanity.”
“Like zombies?” Ember asks, with a grimace of disgust.
“In essence,” Draven answers. He eyes Ember and me in turn. “My Coven led the charge against him, along with a group of vampires and werewolves. It is the first recorded instance of all three species joining together for a mutual cause.” Sadness clouds his features as he draws in a deep breath and then tells us, “The ground is consecrated. It is holy. Many members of my Coven and our vampire and werewolf allies lost their lives—sacrificed themselves for the greater good. A hero’s death.”
“That makes it sacred ground,” I realize aloud.
“Precisely,” Draven confirms.
He makes his hands into fists, snuffing out the blue fire on them. And then he jumps down from the altar. He points to it and it floats away into the left corner of the room, leaving a large space in its wake.
He holds his hand out to Ember. “Salt, my sweet vampire?”
She reaches into the right pocket of her fancy burgundy, wool coat and pulls out a jar.
“Thanks,” Draven says as he takes it from her.
He twists off the lid and starts spreading it in a large circle. As he completes it, he steps back and a silver shimmer travels through the entire circle.
“Whoa,” I exclaim.
“The salt is enchanted,” Cahl tells me, smiling with amusement at my awed reaction.
Unlike him and Draven, I haven’t been around magic much in my life. Most of this is all new to me. So, yeah, every little thing fascinates me, while to the two of them, it’s just par for the course. Ember isn’t magical either, but she rarely shows much of a reaction to it. She just takes everything in her stride. I guess, living as long as she has, not much can really surprise her. That goes for all of them. Again, I’m the only exception. Unlike them, I’m only in my mid-twenties, not hundreds of years old.
