by LJ Swallow
“You think I’d offer myself to you?” I whisper in his ear. “No. I’ll take what I want because you’re weak, Dorian.”
Dorian snatches my hair and his mouth slams against mine with an energy unlike anything from the other guys. His imagined control explodes, and the detonation shakes through my body as we kiss. I grip his hair and our mouths lock in a battle to match the one we’ve had for weeks. My blood and his energy are connected, and now Dorian needs to give himself to me.
He drags his mouth away. “You think you can win? That I’ll submit to you?” His arm wraps around my waist and he holds me to his hips. I push against his grip—Dorian will never have me under his control.
"Yes. I do. And you will.”
“Oh, sweet, deluded Eloise,” he whispers and that infuriating grin returns. I’m dizzied as he spins me around and kicks the kitchen door closed before pushing me against the wood. “You’ll yield to me.”
“The hell I will.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not Ivan. I won’t force you, but we both know I wouldn’t need to.”
“You arrogant—” He pushes harder against me and grips my neck as his mouth assaults mine. I yield and our tongues continue their fight. In frustrated lust, I push my hands beneath his shirt and drag my nails down his lower back, hard.
He catches my hand to pull my nails away. “Trying to mark me as yours?”
I ignore him. “You want to fuck me? Fuck me. But you’d better impress.”
Dorian presses me harder against the door, and his hands run along my side beneath my shirt, rough, possessive. He’s aroused, his cock hard against my side, as the bruising kisses begin again and heat floods to my core. I arch towards Dorian as his hand pushes beneath my shirt, his thumb swipes across my nipple beneath the lace bra, and the sensation tears through my body.
I moan and when he chuckles against my mouth, infuriation joins my need.
He won’t win.
My hand slides downwards and I drag my fingers across the solid abs before flicking the button on his jeans. The action ignites the situation, and our rough passion becomes unrestrained. Clothes end up on the floor as our unrelenting hands and mouths continue, each in the battle neither of us could win. Dorian bends his head and lightly sinks his teeth into my shoulder as he unhooks and drops my bra to the floor to join our other clothes.
He grabs beneath my ass and lifts me, his mouth immediately on my breasts, teasing and sucking my nipples. I wrap my legs around his waist and tip my head back, growing wetter with every touch. As his teeth nip me with painful pleasure, I no longer care if he draws blood, distracted by the ache as he rocks against me.
He shifts and slides a hand between us; his fingers move downward and slip beneath the edge of my panties. Dorian hisses as he feels my slick pussy and watches my face, mouth parted as he roughly pushes a finger inside me. I widen my legs, and he pushes harder, driving me further from the control I want.
As I close my eyes and another moan escapes, Dorian pulls me from the wall and manoeuvres me towards the table. I land on my back and when I open my eyes in surprise, the smug look on his face as he stands over me pisses me off. Before he can touch me again, I push myself to my feet and off the table.
Dorian laughs and grabs my arms to push me back again, and I lash out with the new power he gave me. He steps back and allows me to push him backwards, waiting. Does he worry he went too far? Blood pounds in my ears as I shove Dorian against the wall instead, enjoying the surprise on his face. Doesn’t he realise the strength his magic gave me when he took my blood? The surprise drops and he grabs my wrists, backing me towards the table, but I break free.
“Don’t you think we should stop now?” I ask with a tease as I try to control my breathing. Hell, I don’t want to, but he’s close to winning.
He moistens his lips and his eyes gleam. “Sure.” Dorian grabs his clothes and opens the kitchen door before walking through.
He’s seriously walking away?
I snatch my clothes too and head after him, the ache too much to let him go. “Dorian.”
As he turns, I launch myself across the room and send him backwards onto the sofa. I climb onto him and drag nails across the ridge of muscle defining the body beneath me. Dorian's eyes remain on mine and this time I’m the one with the smug smile.
“Why smile, Eloise? I win,” he whispers. “You can’t stop.”
Dorian grabs my shoulders and pushes me until I roll and we’re on the floor. My arm hits the books on the table, and they fall beside my head as his mouth slams onto mine again. He pins my arms over my head, forcing my legs apart with his knee, and pushes himself between my legs.
Our underwear is the only barrier between his hard cock and my pussy as I slide my mouth to meet his, urging him into another frenzied moment where neither of us have control. He shifts and pushes his hands between my legs, pulling my panties to one side.
His whole hand covers me as he thrust fingers inside, and I groan as he pushes the soft spot while he thumbs my clit. Dorian watches me as I fight the moan threatening to show him the effect he’s having.
A smile curves across his face, as both our chests heave in unison. “Ask me.” He drags a finger along my pussy and teases my clit again.
I clench my teeth. Dorian doesn't get to win, and I drop my eyes to his cock straining against his briefs. “You want me to beg for your cock?”
“Yes.” Dorian slides out of his briefs and rubs a hand along his impressive length, his breath now ragged. Leaning forward, he rubs the tip between my folds and his mouth parts, eyes hooded. “Eloise?”
How the hell does this guy control himself? He licks his other thumb and circles it around my nipple, and I shift against where he holds himself ready, pushing against my entrance.
“You’re so fucking ready for me,” he groans out and I smile as his grip on lust drops as he supports himself on the floor with one shaking hand.
“Ask me,” I whisper with a small smile. His eyes gleam and he gives a small shake of his head, so I reach between us and hold my hand over his to move him until the tip is almost inside me. “Dorian?”
We’re at stalemate, but the blood and energy that mingled before cries out for this. I want Dorian. I crave his power. His darkness. The unity I fought that began with our blood happens now.
“Stop this and just fuck me,” I groan out, pissed off that I’m too far gone to wait for him to speak first.
Dorian shoves my hand out of the way and slams his cock into me. He grips my hips as he moves, thick and hard, and I match his movements as the frustration grows again, digging my fingers into his lower back. Lust darkens his expression; his gaze combing every inch of me as he maintains the rhythm. He rocks his hips against me, driving us closer to what we both reach out for.
Mouth parted and eyes closed, Dorian gathers pace, reaching for his release too. The lightning trips along my spine again and into my limbs once more, shocking me to the black behind my eyes. I knew something would happen once I reached this point with Dorian, but I’m unprepared for the intensity. This is more than enemies battling out their lust, and beyond a vampire getting a high from a witch. Dorian doesn’t break my skin to take blood, but the same euphoria as when he did grows. There’s something familiar about him as my blood flows through his veins; something which tightens us closer.
His dark energy. Mine. Unifying.
Dorian has my blood; I have his power. Dorian exists in my body and my mind, and I’m in his, as I cling to him, unable to hold back. The shadow edging my soul—created by birth and cultivated by my parents—triumphs, and I’m hit with intense pleasure that rips into my soul. A new potency courses through my veins, burning across my skin, the searing sensation beginning in the centre of my chest and coiling around my body. I’m gripped with a pain I resist and relish at the same time.
As my pleasure-blackened senses sharpen and the ache intensifies, I look back to Dorian. The triumph and teasing left his expression. “I see you, Eloise
,” he growls out. “I can see everything.”
And if I let myself, I could see every one of Dorian’s thoughts and memories whipping around his head. My magic is now capable of bypassing everything inside him; Dorian can never hide from me again, nor me him. We’re bonded tighter than I imagined we would be.
Dorian gathers pace, reaching for his release too. He groans as I clench around him and dips his head, driving into me harder and faster.
Another orgasm shudders through me as he reaches between us to thumb my clit, and I cry out as I tighten around him. I cling to Dorian, my mind and body his, as he swears, pushes himself until he completely fills me and finally drops his self-control with a shout.
Dorian collapses onto me and his lips meet mine in a slow, sensual kiss, still connected as we gradually fall down from the intense place we found ourselves. Does the heart beating in rhythm with mine belong to a guy who’s mine? Or has he triumphed over me?
Dorian moves to lie on his back, smiling up at me. Despite the frenzy, he doesn’t have a single bead of perspiration, but that’s not the only not-quite-human part about him. His eyes are too blue—too knowing—and the teeth he flicks his tongue against visible and sharp.
He reaches out and draws a finger along my jaw to my neck, before lingering on where he broke the skin after he killed Ivan. “Next time I’ll take your blood too.”
“There’ll be a next time?” I ask arching a brow.
“Eloise. Please. Be honest.” He rolls over and my sticky body presses against his. “This is just the beginning of us.”
I moisten my lips but don’t reply.
“Now I have you, we’re going to watch the fucking world burn.”
He kisses me with a strange tenderness again and an unsettling feeling grows deep inside my soul. The Blackwoods may be the ones who freed Dorian, but I handed power to him with everything I’ve done today.
The worst part? I didn’t need as much persuasion as I should’ve, because I have dark desires and thoughts too. The necromancer unleashed a monster—and she wanted to.
Chapter Thirty-Five
ETHAN
The town reminds me of the one near my original home. My family are integrated into the community in the south of England, and the high street stores are the same, as are the cafes and pub. Regret twinges in my chest, along with hurt that I’m ostracised after one mistake.
But I’m not only at Ravenhold for killing a shifter, but because I’m a mid. An aberration. A family embarrassment. I don’t know if my father fought to stop my exile, but my brother Kai stood up for me and was shot down. At least somebody can look after my sister, after what she suffered at the hands of the guy who claimed she was his mate. Bullshit. We don’t belong to a wolf pack—my mother married away from that shit.
Along with the disgust came disappointment. Ethan, a dragon and potential leader, now stuck in the twilight between human and shifter. I could’ve raised my family upwards in shifter society but screwed that up by shifting too early.
My sister is a wolf. That’s what attracted the arsehole from halfway across the country. Instead, I created an enemy for my family. You don’t fuck with wolf packs. They’re dying out because they’re too old school; they refuse to integrate with humans or shifter society and desperately hang on to their bloodlines. Why did they want my sister? She’s half-blood.
Now she’s angry and as hellbent on revenge as I was. For herself. For me.
Fury and vengeance created the position I found myself in, and now I have a choice. Finish what I started or hide? I may only be half a dragon, but that makes me stronger than a wolf.
Returning home would be a risk. I don’t trust anybody to take me back into the fold.
Zeke walks from a local bakery holding two white paper bags. He sits on the wooden bench beside me and hands a bag over. As I eat the warm pie from inside, I look around at the world I stepped into. I’ve dreamed of escaping Ravenhold, but not straight into human central. The experience is jarring—I’m disoriented as well as confused by our next move.
Beats waking up in a garage on a witch estate, I guess.
Zeke came back with news about the witch and shifter he met, but I refused his offer to meet them. He’s stupid to trust anybody. I know they’ll see us in town, but I’ll watch for them.
“Saul told me there’s a shifter community in the hills close by.” Zeke pulls out the paper with Dorian’s mysterious words and there’s an address underneath.
“We can’t go. You know that.”
Zeke knocks pastry flakes from his knee. “Then where?”
“I told you, we look for Eloise and Dorian.” I take a savage bite of the pie and savour the rich taste.
“I tried the number. Nobody answered.”
I shake my head. Dorian’s head games. A secret code. “He will eventually. Eloise will force him.”
Zeke’s mouth tips into a smile. “True.”
“Then we go to Eloise and get her away from Dorian before she gives him the blood he needs.”
“Ethan. You need to accept that if she’s with Dorian, she’s chosen to be.”
“To help him?” I choke out.
“Who knows?”
“She won’t kill him.” I shove the rest of the pie in my mouth and scrunch the bag in my hand. “Eloise had the chance, and she’s either under his influence or she wants him.”
Zeke falls quiet. “She’s the Trinity witch, Ethan. Eloise is beginning to realise she can take who and what she wants. Maybe she wants his power,” he says eventually.
“Eloise isn’t strong enough for Dorian. She needs us.”
He cocks his head. “Eloise is strong enough to control you. Nobody can control an out of control mid or dragon. You’re both.”
His words slam into my chest. “I won’t hurt Eloise. I’ll fucking kill for her.”
“Yeah. I believe it. But if that includes Dorian, you’re wasting your time.”
I grit my teeth and stare at my boots. “Are you suggesting we go to them and stay?”
“Where else can we go?” Zeke dips his head as a passer-by stares at his unusual appearance. “You’re in hiding and I can’t go back to the Tigris. I won’t.”
I’ve never spent much time with Zeke, partly due to my chosen position on the fringes and his at the apex of shifter students. Part of the reason he holds the position is suspicion about his heritage. There’s nothing to be suspicious about; the guy is obviously a tiger shifter. The Tigris are as ostracised and feared amongst shifters as the Blackwoods are by the witches.
“You’re Tigris, right?” I ask.
Zeke scratches an eyebrow with a thumbnail that hides the claw beneath. “Yeah. By birth, not choice. Even if I could go back, I wouldn’t.”
“Are the stories true?”
“I don’t know the stories they tell," he replies curtly. "Nobody at Ravenhold dared mention them to me.”
“They say the Tigris are a cult—a step beyond wolf packs and their alphas. I heard nobody can leave and that those who try are killed.”
Zeke is silent for a moment as he stares at his boots. “I didn’t choose to leave.”
“But you did?” Shit. What if Tigris pursue us too?
“If you can’t escape a situation, you try to change things from the inside.” He looks up at me. “Sometimes that doesn’t end well.”
“Why?”
“Ethan, mate. We might be stuck in this situation together, but I’m not about to give you my life story. You wouldn’t tell me yours.”
I hold his look. “I shifted before I was of age in order to kill the man who assaulted my sister. I’m not a mid because I’m some dumb kid who couldn’t resist experimenting. I had no control. So, when I say I’ll kill for Eloise, I’m serious.”
Zeke blinks at me. “Did you kill another shifter?”
I give him a tight smile. “Oh, yeah. An alpha wolf.”
“Whoa. Maybe you were safer inside Ravenhold.”
“Are we meeting with
Dorian or not?” I ask, and Zeke frowns at my conversation change. “Because until I know Eloise is safe, I’m not doing anything or going anywhere.”
“We don’t exactly have anywhere else to go, do we?”
The human world bustles by in their ordinary, uncomplicated lives, unaware what lives amongst them and the threat they face.
I once thought the human world’s greatest threat was the Dominion.
Now I realise the instability within the supernatural world could blow everything apart—and not just their world.
Chapter Thirty-Six
ELOISE
The next morning, I pad around the small cottage as I search for Dorian. I find him sitting outside at a round metal table in a matching chair, both painted white with flower patterns wrought into them.
Sunshine picks out the highlights in his blond hair and he stares across the narrow lawned garden, which is fenced and has a small gate at the opposite end, close to a small wooden shed. The extraordinary creature in an ordinary setting.
“Can you fix my flowers?” he asks without turning, and gestures at the borders containing dead plants, many strangled by weeds.
“I’m not wasting my magic on that,” I retort.
He chuckles and turns in the seat, resting his forearm on the back as he studies me. “I’m joking. Do you think I give a shit about a garden?”
I sit in the chair beside him and point at an old-style mobile phone. “Where did the phone come from?”
“That’s mine.”
“Where from? You never told me we had a way of contacting people.”
“Who would you want to contact, Eloise? We’re on our own now.” He points at the phone. “For now. I’ve a couple of missed calls but no messages. Unless you count the one with heavy breathing before they ended the call. Do you think I have a stalker?”
This is surreal. “Can you stop playing games? Who are you expecting to call?”
