“Because she’s scared,” Brodie answered. He didn’t have to be in her head to decipher that much. “Which means she needs us more than ever.”
“Okay,” Archie agreed, and he climbed up out of bed, showing off his naked body without a care. Brodie felt his cheeks burn hot at the sight and couldn’t tear his gaze away, and of course his new beau noticed. “You can show off and materialise suits and ties out of thin air all you want, jinni, but you still can’t hide your shy side, can you?” Archie teased him as he wandered over to his en-suite wearing nothing but his birthday suit and a smile, and Brodie tried his best not to stare at him and his perfect behind as he went.
Instead, he stood and then vanished for a second, before reappearing in the doorway to the small bathroom, blocking Archie’s path. And this time, the clothes were gone.
“I don’t do it show off,” he corrected him with a smile, “I’m simply too good that naturally you’re jealous…”
“Not jealous. Turned on,” Archie countered, and then he stepped forward and crushed himself against Brodie before kissing him deeply.
***
Wynter decided she needed to get to grips with both her full powers and the limitations now added to the mix by the witch’s power. She tried their most basic of tricks of disappearing or transforming into her white misty form, and had it nailed in no time at all, but couldn’t get far from the house without some kind of homing beacon kicking in and forcing her back.
After her tenth trial, she began to wonder if it wasn’t an issue with her power but more that the heart she shared with the witch wouldn’t let her get too far from Marcus. Not the house or the island, but him. Almost as if he had some kind of maximum radius around him in which she could go.
She tested the theory and knew her hunch was right when she remained invisible for hours and then as white mist for even longer without any issue. The transformation was simple—like breathing—and wasn’t at all hard to maintain, just as long as she stayed put and didn’t dare try and have a fraction of independence of course. God, she wanted to scream.
Marcus was no help either. She caught him watching her from the house no matter which area of beach she materialized on. He seemed to enjoy watching her test out her powers, and when she went to him later that night as nothing but white smoke, he touched her misty flesh and actually seemed to marvel at what she had become.
“Stay like this,” he said as he undressed and then pulled her into his arms. And of course, she gave into him. Gave him everything he wanted, and more.
Like always, once they were close to one another she was no longer herself, but some kind of other version he had groomed and moulded into being his perfect bride. The lover who was giving and generous, and the woman he loved that adored him in return.
In Marcus’s arms, Wynter couldn’t say no, but she also didn’t want to. She was spellbound and knew there was no going back. This was forever, and she had two choices.
She could fight and lose, time and again, and come to terms with the fact that the only way to escape him was to let death take her for real.
Or, she could accept her fate and find some kind of semblance of happiness in the strange new life Marcus had chosen for her.
The problem was, when she was away from him she wanted one option, and when their bodies were entwined she wanted the other.
The only way forward seemed one of embracing the unknown, and Wynter guessed it’d have to do.
Four
After an intense few days spent making love and not once leaving one another’s side, an insistent ringing sound from afar began to irk the pair of newlyweds. However, given how adamant Marcus seemed on ignoring it, Wynter pretended not to have noticed while he seemed to grow more and more on edge with the interruption.
She wanted to tell him to go find out what was going on, but also couldn’t bear to let him leave her. After all, the moment he did, she knew her shame and guilt would come flooding back and she would grow furious with herself again. That she’d soon then feel hard done by and miserable, and even though it was an obvious cop-out, she wanted to keep hold of her fake happiness instead.
“Please, don’t go,” Wynter tried when he began pulling away, and she actually grabbed his shoulders and wrenched Marcus back down onto the bed with her.
He grinned and she saw his eyes turn that iridescent intense blue that meant his soul was rising to the surface and calling for her again. It was the third time that day alone, and was a sure sign that the love he bore her was growing stronger and more intense now that they had somehow merged. It terrified her.
“I’ll be back in just a moment,” he promised, visibly forcing himself to retreat, and the moment their connection was broken so too was the spell he had her under whenever they touched. Regret and grief flooded through her with breakneck speed. It hit her harder than ever and she knew Marcus could sense her emotions, so turned away so she wouldn’t have to see the satisfied smirk on his face she was sure would be there. He’d shown how much he loved her and desperately wanted her to feel the same in return, that was undeniable, but he also loved it when she fought his adoration. When she was full of shame and despair.
Like now.
After he was gone, Wynter forced her hurt aside and climbed out of bed, thinking she’d go for a run or to practice her transformation techniques, but instead she found the doorway blocked by the alpha soldier.
“Move,” she demanded, but he simply shook his head no. Wynter saw red. Had Marcus ordered for him to keep her there, like some kind of pretty little wife who might do as she was told? Well, she wasn’t about to let that happen. She simply ghosted directly through him as mist and didn’t show herself again until she was already out of the house and on the beach as far away as she could get.
The alpha came running towards her just moments later, and she was surprised he’d found her so quickly at first, but then saw her footprints in the sand and knew she’d left an easy to follow trail.
Wynter felt a second wave of sadness echo through her at the sight. Brodie had done the same when he’d walked beside her on the beach back in England. On that god-awful day when she’d been forced to watch Jakob leave and had then been carried back to Marcus strewn over the shoulders of the same vampire soldier who was now charging for her.
Not this time though.
As soon as he got close, she balled her hand into a fist and sent it flying for his nose, which immediately cracked and the alpha was sent flying backwards on the sand. Wynter didn’t stop. Rage spurred her onwards and she suddenly found herself laying into him, her fists flying over and over as she straddled him on the sand. And once again, it all came flooding back. “You stopped us. You took me away when all I wanted was to be free!” she screamed, and continued raining down punches against the soldier’s grey skin, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted him to fight her and so reared back so she could look at the damage she’d done.
He was a bloody mess and seemed to be out cold, but he wasn’t unconscious for long, and she readied herself for his attack. It didn’t come. Even when he snapped back to consciousness, the alpha still refused to fight her, and he simply peered up at her with his creepy red eyes full of desperation and sorrow.
“Wynter,” he then whispered, almost tenderly.
She reacted by reaching down and wrapping her hand around his throat.
“Fight back,” she hissed.
“No,” he croaked, and then he laid back against the sand as though more than ready to die for her. Talk about stopping her dead in her tracks.
It was the second word she’d ever heard the otherwise silent creature speak, and she was about to marvel at his steadily improving skill when he opened his mouth and uttered a third word. One that left her stunned and totally reeling. “Queen…”
She backed off in a split-second and clambered back on the warm sand, watching him with wide eyes. Did he really see her as some kind of leader? Was that why he always remained close and had wanted to speak with h
er, but had failed miserably until now? No. He couldn’t. Could he? As her mind processed the two small words, things suddenly began to fall back into place. Perhaps she was a leader after all. That had to be it, and her anger was suddenly gone, replaced by dumbfounded shock.
And then something occurred to her. If she was his queen, that meant…
“Will you look after me?” she asked, and the alpha nodded. “Obey me?” he nodded again. “Kill for me?” he simply continued the up and down movement of his head. “Die for me?” there wasn’t even the slightest hint he was going to stop, and Wynter climbed up onto her feet and peered down at him.
She didn’t say anything more. Wynter simply headed back to the house, where she found Marcus waiting for her by the doorway, evidently having watched her exchange with the alpha soldier. She thought he might be about to taunt her about their odd altercation, but instead he seemed to have something more important on his mind.
“I’m going back to the mainland for a few days, my sweet,” he informed her when she was close enough to hear, “and you will stay here.”
“No,” she replied indignantly, “I want to go home. I’m sick to my bones of this island and I need more. I want to get back to work. I want to live my fucking life.”
Marcus was clearly surprised at first, but then seemed to sense that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. So, he went for the easier option and nodded.
“Very well,” he answered and then grabbed her hand and pulled Wynter into his embrace. “It’s time you took your rightful place at my side anyway.”
“At Slave, or one of the other clubs?” she asked, and Marcus laughed darkly.
“All of the clubs you’d ever set foot are now nothing but dust. I burned them to the ground, along with everyone in them,” he told her, and Wynter felt a shudder echo down her back.
“Why?” she breathed.
“You know why,” he answered, and then nuzzled her neck so that he could kiss her there. He didn’t even seem sorry, while it was all she could do not to cry.
“Because I left.”
“Yes. And because I was so empty and hungry without you. Thirstier than I’ve been in thousands of years and with a bottomless pit of rage to help fuel that hunger. To say that I was willing to lay waste to the world thanks to you leaving is a mere understatement.”
Well, that certainly put things into perspective for her.
“And now?” she replied with a frown. God, he really had gone to the extreme when she had left him. Wynter knew she’d previously had no idea just how deeply he cared and how her leaving had affected him, but she still felt awful for the things she had done, and for the people who had suffered because of her.
“We will return and start again. Together,” he told her, and Wynter nodded. She didn’t know if it was because of their contact or because of her fear, but she vowed to herself to never, ever, leave him again. There was no telling what he might do a second time, and even if it meant her living a lie and hating herself every moment that they weren’t touching, then she figured so be it. She would sacrifice herself and her freedom if it meant the world could go on turning.
They were packed up and back on Marcus’s private plane before the hour was up, and as they took off, Wynter found herself staring out the window with a smile. They were going home. There was a lot of work to do if she had any hope of finding her purpose, but she craved it. The days were endless thanks to her not needing any sleep or sustenance, and without a reason to go on there was nothing to drag her through each minute to the next. And so she figured she’d find it.
Marcus took her hand in his from beside her and kissed the backs of her fingers tenderly, watching her.
“I want to be your equal,” she suddenly whispered, and expected a fight, but instead her husband smiled.
“Of course.”
“I mean it. I am strong enough and will gladly give every day and night to get our empire back up and running,” she demanded, “but I will do it as your wife, not your captive.”
“I have a vital role already in mind for you, my sweet. In fact, the alpha has been trying to tell you so for days,” he answered with a sly smile, “he and the others aren’t just mine, but they’re your army now too. Ours to command together, but yours to maintain. You will become their mistress. Their—”
“Queen?” she asked, thinking back to what the alpha had said at the beach.
“Precisely,” Marcus agreed, and as Wynter stared back into his eyes she was suddenly filled with hope. Things were about to change. She wasn’t simply going to be Marcus’s wife, or a slave he could keep from leaving thanks to the witch’s heart fuelling her from within. She was going to have a title and a job to do. An empire of her own to run.
Damn, was she actually getting somewhere? Was this going to happen? She sure hoped so. Wynter was terrified of what he was capable of, and yet was addicted to that power he had if he could offer her such a thing so readily. He had two worlds at his fingertips and was willing to share one with her and, scary as that might be, Wynter was more than ready.
She then caught Marcus looking across the aisle of the plane to where Marcella was sitting with Jack, and at first she thought he was looking to his Priestess for guidance, but instead revealed his reasons when her husband climbed up out of his seat and shuffled towards them. She didn’t need to ask how or why. Marcus evidently needed to feed and so had summoned his only remaining Manager to see to him, and Wynter didn’t want to stick around to watch. In fact, she was going to use the time alone to her advantage, and so offered Jack her seat before then walking across and taking his aisle seat beside his wife.
Marcella tried to ignore her, as usual nowadays, but Wynter wasn’t going to let her anymore. Enough was enough.
“Do you hate me?” she whispered to the witch, who continued to stare out the window, her back half turned to her. It was awful, but Wynter understood her reasons why. Seeing her had to be a constant reminder of what she had lost, and so she tried to approach things in a different way.
Wynter knew she’d not once appeared grateful for what Marcella had given her, and decided to rectify that. “Do you regret giving me this gift, my lady? Because I don’t. I’m glad you did it. I’m glad you shared her life with me, because she is part of me now. She loves Marcus, so much so that she’s making me love him too. And she’s not gone because she lives inside of here,” Wynter continued, and placed her hand over her heart, “and she misses you.”
Marcella let out a sob and curled in on herself, still refusing to look at Wynter, who continued on. These things needed saying, whether they had the desired effect or not, and so she knew she couldn’t stop. “She loves you, Marcy, and I love you too. And I miss you. I miss my friend.”
The Priestess suddenly spun in her seat and finally looked at her. It’d been weeks of nothing but heartache and pain for the poor grieving mother, and when their eyes made contact, Wynter could sense her agony and she too began to cry.
But Marcella wouldn’t let her look away this time, and it was as if she was staring into the depths of her soul. She gripped her cheeks and smiled through the tears still streaming down her face.
“I can see her inside of you,” she cried, “and you’re right, she’s alive and she’s thriving.”
Wynter nodded and it was a huge relief when Marcella finally stopped crying and seemed to move onto the final stage of her grief—acceptance.
“About time,” Jack’s voice broke their strange bubble, and Wynter peered up at him with a smile, which he returned. “I kept telling her to see for herself how our daughter is not gone, but she wasn’t ready. I’m glad you two have worked things out.” He then reached down and gave her cheek a stroke, and it was odd at first, but Wynter knew it was because he could somehow see his daughter there too.
It wasn’t like the pair of them had ever been close or anything, but it was a definite relief to have him on her side as well, and a wave of happiness swept through her, along with a thought
that she someone knew wasn’t entirely her own.
Family.
She didn’t have to be alone or afraid ever again, and it was a welcome realisation.
Five
It was the following morning by the time their odd little group landed back on British soil, and Wynter couldn’t deny feeling apprehensive. She had no clue where they were or how long a journey laid ahead. All she could do was disembark with the others and she followed Marcus’s lead and climbed into the first of four huge armoured cars that had been waiting for them on the private airfield. She even snuggled against him as the driver prepared the rest of their convoy.
“Where are we?” she asked, but Marcus silenced her with a kiss, his hands roving over her body rather than stay away from her any longer. It wasn’t like they hadn’t passed the time together on the airplane either, but he seemed intent on having more of her, and Wynter was powerless to refuse his advances. As always. It was as if she could never have enough, and as they began to drive she gladly climbed up onto his lap so that she could ride him.
She was still coming down from the last of her climaxes when the car eventually slowed, and she soon realised they were being let through a set of wrought iron gates and into a private drive. Wynter lifted herself up off him, and was still rearranging her clothes when she saw the tall building they were heading towards and paled.
It was Camilla’s mansion. The place where she had spent a few days with Jakob not too long before. The fortress in which she had gotten to know him and they had developed a friendship, and more. It was also where she had watched Marcus fucking another vampire. She was far from jealous, and hadn’t been at the time either, but she was loathed to visit the place where there were so many memories of the old days. The days when she was human, his Blood Slave, and had no control over her life.
Even in Death Page 4
