Even in Death

by Eden Wildblood

  Blood Slave #4:

  Even in Death

  By

  Eden Wildblood

  Licence Notes:

  This ebook is licenced for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please destroy it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  PLEASE NOTE

  This story depicts explicit sexual relationships between consenting adults, including elements of coercion and intimidation, which may be a trigger for some readers.

  This story is not suitable for those under the age of 18.

  Cover art by LM Cover Designs

  Cover photographs courtesy of www.depositphotos.com

  For Carrigan.

  Thank you for all your incredible encouragement and support. Love ya!

  One

  Everything felt different. From her now fully formed and always present body, to the rapidly beating heart deep within, it was suddenly all too real, and Wynter hated every second of her new life. None of this was right.

  She shouldn’t have a beating heart. No, she should be nothing but mist. She ought to still be following the usual jinni routine of learning and growing inside of her host while growing strong enough to finally become whole, but instead she was something else entirely. A creature far different from any of the lore Brodie had taught her about. And rather than with her creator, he had to be thousands of miles away. But, it no longer mattered. She didn’t need him to guide her.

  Only Marcus.

  Or so it appeared, seeing as she couldn’t get enough of the guy nowadays. When with him Wynter felt like she was someone else, and he affected her in ways she had promised herself she’d never let him do. Especially after all the awful things he had done.

  But it was like the heart she’d promised would never be his was suddenly screaming out for him, begging him to have her, and she yearned for more.

  His touch.

  His kisses.

  His love.

  The damn vampire had somehow forced his way into her good graces and she strangely favoured him above all others, but there was something still niggling in the base of her skull.

  She kept wondering how and why this change could’ve happened.

  There were a hundred thoughts rushing through her mind when she thought back to that horrendous day, but Wynter knew it was the witch’s heart Marcella had gifted her. It had to be, because she was only under Marcus’s spell when she was near him. It was like those initial days in his keep all over again, but whenever she finally had some distance, her heart felt like it was breaking. She felt grief-stricken and so desolate it was torturous. Like she was broken from the inside out.

  It’d only been a day since Wynter had woken up on the small island Marcus apparently had tucked away across the world, and she was still trying to get her head around what was gong on within her. But one thing was for certain. She might be the driving force of her now immortal jinni body and in control of herself and her actions, but there were certainly two sides to her now that she had the witch’s heart beating within her chest, as Marcus had described it.

  An unborn baby had given her life in offering for this change, and now Wynter was convinced that she did indeed have two hearts. She was half jinni and half witch, and while the witch half sourced the power for the other, there was also a fair price Wynter had been forced to pay for it.

  Her dignity.

  Her integrity.

  Her body.

  Her will.

  When she was with Marcus, the oath’s passed down from one generation of Marcella’s coven to the next immediately came into play. Their kin had vowed unending loyalty to him alone, along with their unbridled love and subjugation, and she could sense at last just why the Priestess had always remained Marcus’s most loyal subject, no matter what he had done or what he had forced her to do for him. Every woman who had come before Marcella in the family tree had adored him, and had taught the next to do the same. The child who had given her life for Wynter’s included. However, she was just a single addition to the line beholden to the ancient mastermind. The last of thousands of generations of witch, and with so very many more still to come.

  The child had been bred to serve him too, and so she was, and would forevermore. The only problem was how.

  Wynter had been given the gift of the witch’s heart, whether she’d wanted it or not, and was now paying the price for having been unwittingly added to his doting coven.

  She still had her own will though, and so had actively avoided him the past day as much as she could, even though he’d been relentless with his advances. Whenever he approached, she retreated. When he walked in a room, she left it, but after the initial twenty-four hours, Wynter was in agonising pain that radiated from within because of that distance she had forced between them. If she obeyed him, she had the feeling the pain would go away. But she didn’t want him like that, and of course, she downright refused to give into his desirous advances.

  He’d won their awful war and she had lost everything. She had admitted defeat, but that didn’t mean she had to then hand herself over like some spoil of war he was then within his rights to enjoy at length. Wynter was determined to continue fighting him, and wanted to keep some parts of herself after her violent downfall at the hands of the man she was now forced to accept as her husband.

  And every time she remembered that fact she felt like breaking down and crying all over again. In what world was this real? What had she possibly done to deserve this fate? To have been forced to endure his adoration.

  Wynter hated how she had spent her entire life yearning for a love exactly like this. One powerful enough to overcome all obstacles and with a man on the giving end of it who would do anything it took to make her his. But, like some kind of nightmare, the fairy tale had ended in the villain having his way—not the hero. A twist of fate, and a curse that could seemingly never be broken.

  Wynter endured the pain of staying away, finding comfort in the agony. She soon found herself in her bedroom, where she pressed her back against the door, holding it locked shut. Better to keep the demons out, but not for long. He never let her stay away long. She readied herself as best she could, thinking he would come looking for her any second, but instead she was left to her fraught thoughts and adrenaline-spiked urges for a short, excruciating while.

  Wynter began to wonder if he’d finally gotten the message and left her be. Perhaps Marcella had stepped in, or maybe Jack was offering his master a vein? Anything to take him away from her for a short while. Anything to give her some peace.

  She wanted to enjoy it, but the pain was almost unbearable. It radiated from her chest outwards, like waves cascading across her entire being. Her head throbbed and there was an annoying whooshing sound in her ears, like when she’d stood up too fast as a human. She inhaled deeply and counted the seconds, holding it for over a hundred before finally letting go.

  That was one bit of good news. At least she knew for sure she didn’t need to breathe anymore. This immortality was an odd thing, but there were some decent upsides. Wynter was also glad she didn’t have the ravenous hunger Marcus and the other vampires did. Or the necessity for feeding his kind was driven by.

  She simply existed now. No need to find a host and have life cycles. Unlike Brodie, the Halfl
ing would remain whole for the foreseeable future, and Wynter suddenly realised how there was nothing driving her forward any more. No future with Jakob and no rotation of life with Brodie. No friends. No family. She was empty and had nothing to live for. She had no purpose.

  Not a nice thought for an immortal creature.

  Wynter knew she needed to find her reason for carrying on and focus on it. She had to figure out what was worth living forever for, or else this gift Brodie had given her would be entirely wasted, and the thought of that made her want to weep.

  And then, all of a sudden, she realised wasn’t in pain any longer. Somehow she had been given a reprieve from the aching pull towards Marcus and the love he seemed so desperate to show her, and when she began to flush with heat she immediately knew why.

  He was close. Probably on the other side of the door behind her, but at least he was quiet, for a change. He wasn’t taunting her or calling to her, and Wynter hated the realisation that it was exactly what she’d needed to calm her fraught emotions.

  She closed her eyes and listened to her body. She was so horny she felt fit to burst, so desperate to be touched her skin felt excessively sensitive. Wynter kept telling herself to run from him again, but she couldn’t. It was so wonderful to have a break from the pain and so instead, she turned and wrenched open the door, thinking she would simply ask him to slow down.

  Or else, they could fight. At least that way he would have his wish and she’d be giving him the attention he so craved.

  She was strong enough to take him on now, and was determined to do so.

  Marcus was indeed standing on the other side, and rather than look her over with the glower she’d expected from him, he seemed to be admiring her with a gentle, as yet unseen by her, look in his eyes. She had opened up the door with all the will in the world to tell him off and beat him down, and yet the opposite seemed to be about to happen.

  No, she couldn’t let it. Couldn’t give in.

  “Please,” she hissed, and wasn’t sure exactly what she was asking of him. To go away? To stay? Shit, she couldn’t make up her mind in that moment. All she knew was that her body was screaming for her to move closer to his, and yet she continued to refuse.

  “I can’t. I love you, Wynter,” Marcus then whispered, shocking her further, and as he closed the gap between them, another realisation struck. He had never once said those words to her before. Never let himself be weak in front of her or show his true feelings. And because of that, he had pushed her away, letting her fall for another.

  The look on his face was one of true adoration and love, and it was more terrifying to her than any of his usual dark expressions.

  Wynter swallowed the lump in her throat and peered up into his intense blue eyes, and shook her head.

  “No, you don’t. You can’t love me. You’re incapable of love…” she tried, but he was having none of it.

  “I moved Heaven and Earth to find you, my sweet. I sacrificed everything I have spent centuries building, and all for you.”

  He came closer and was so fast she didn’t have time to get away. Marcus wrapped Wynter in his arms, and as soon as their bodies were connected, she felt her defiance wane and her once insolent desires dissipate entirely.

  It was wonderful, and for the first time in days, she finally felt alive.

  “What spell have you put me under?” she asked, and Marcus shook his head.

  “No spell. No hexes. Just love,” he answered, and then leaned down to place the gentlest of kisses against her lips.

  Wynter tried to pull away, but the moment he made contact, she was overcome with passion and need. The witch’s heart within that beat just for him took control, driving her over the edge, and forcing her further into his embrace. She wanted more, but then forced him back, telling Marcus no. She wasn’t going to let him have her, and so turned her face away.

  She willed herself to turn to smoke and rush off. Begged her body to move, but it wouldn’t listen. Marcus was holding her to him so tightly he was crushing her, but she didn’t care, because they both knew she wasn’t the same woman he had fallen for. She could withstand anything he threw at her, and yet she was still weak. Too weak to push him away. Too weak to say no and mean it.

  Wynter let out a garbled groan when his mouth found hers again. How could he taste so good? “You’re mine, Wynter. Don’t fight it, and don’t deny it,” he whispered as he then placed kisses along her jaw and neck, lifting her up into his arms as he tilted her back further.

  He then wrapped her legs around his back before clambering onto the bed, and she gripped him tightly, moaning and bucking as his torso made contact against her wanton core.

  “No,” she tried, but Marcus had already ripped away their clothes without so much as breaking their connection, and his skin felt so amazing against hers she felt like crying. It was like it was laced with a love potion or something, because she couldn’t stop herself from wanting more of his touch. She knew she was no longer herself, and could feel a change happening within her, but couldn’t stop it.

  And she knew why. It was her body that wanted him, but it was not her soul, or her heart.

  It was the other one.

  But still, she didn’t fight it. She couldn’t.

  Marcus nestled himself between her thighs and reared back, watching as he entered her and began slowly teasing his way inside. He seemed captivated by the view, and as soon as he was all the way within, something seemed to detonate between the pair of them. His eyes shone down at her so brightly it was like they were on fire, if fire could burn blue like his were.

  Her tormentor pinned her to the bed, impaling her from inside, and as he stared into her eyes, Wynter felt his soul calling to hers.

  She wanted to refuse him. She’d already had a merged soul mate and had lost him only days before, so was sure there was no way she could accept another, but those eyes of his refused to look away from hers. His soul forced its way beneath the veils of her existence, and it took hold of whatever remnants she had left of her own soul. She didn’t accept his, like she had Jakob’s, but it forced its way in anyway.

  Wynter let out a cry and she tried to wriggle away as realisation struck, but it was already too late. She and Marcus weren’t only husband and wife. They were merged soul mates now. She could feel it in every ounce of her being.

  And so could he.

  Marcus grinned down into her wide-eyed face and rolled his hips, burying himself even deeper within, and it was like nothing she had ever felt before. Heat rattled through her, and it was somehow bringing with it a wave of pain to her core, like this was her first time all over again.

  She tensed and grabbed Marcus’s shoulders, digging her nails into his flesh. He hissed, but then laughed before finally pulling back and withdrawing from between her thighs.

  But he wasn’t gone long. Marcus plunged right back in, and she cried out as he hit that same deep spot within that was still resonating with heat. And then again, and again.

  Her body quickly began to ripple with rhapsody as he indulged himself in a slow and steady rhythm, and all the while Wynter could do nothing but bask in the wonderful sensations as he made love to her. She lost herself to the moment, and soon kissed and touched him tenderly, all hate and pain forgotten while in his arms. And there, the two of them not only became one, but they secured the bond between them at long last.

  Marcus’s eyes continued to glow from within the entire time they were at it, and while it was completely different to all the moments when his soul had called to hers in search of a merging, Wynter still felt that deeper connection begin to strengthen between the pair of them. It was like she herself was transforming, but instead the change affected them both, like the act of finally solidifying their union had brought them together in ways beyond just the physical.

  It was both a welcoming and terrifying transformation. Something she knew would take a long time for her to understand, and perhaps even longer for her to accept.

 
After all, Wynter had spent her days at Slave both loving and hating the attention her boss persistently gave her, so she was used to having him close, but never this close. Never in her bed as a lover, or in her heart as a soul mate. He’d instead spent their days and nights together toying with her emotions for the fun of it and had always left her wanting something she couldn’t have. Until now.

  And her husband was indeed a surprising lover.

  She’d watched Marcus fucking Camilla back at her mansion the night Jakob had taken her away. He’d been brutal with his fellow vampire lover and had pounded into her without any fear for her safety or caring for what she wanted of him, but with Wynter, he was the opposite.

  He’d not once slept with her back when she was human, but now she was his wife and he clearly revelled at having her at his mercy. They were making up for all the times he’d had to walk away, but the games seemed over with. Wynter was as strong as any vampire, perhaps even stronger, and yet Marcus was nothing other than gentle with her.

  He made love to her for days. They stopped for nothing and no one, and Marcus remained attentive and loving the entire time, proving that his words of adoration really were true.

  In many ways, Wynter could hardly bear it.

  At least the rough and ready she could handle, but not the lingering looks and attentive lovemaking. And every time he told her he loved her, she wanted to scream.

  After almost a week spent in bed together, she decided it was time for a break. Marcus wasn’t overly keen on the idea, it was obvious, but he quietly conceded and so left to do some work while she took a walk on the beach. There was nowhere she could run to, or far she was able to wander, but Wynter felt it was worth pursuing the small amount of space just to have a breather and help gather her thoughts.

  After all, everything had suddenly become incredibly intense between the pair of them, and she was still processing it all. Still coming to terms with what he had done. And what she had let him do.