Dark Secrets (22 page)

Fuck.

I knew what I needed to do. Instead of going for Ella, I
lunged at Julian—something she hadn’t expected. The knife glinted and I brought
it down, aiming for his heart, seeing his death and nothing but the pile of ash
I’d be washing from my hair for the next week.

He’d done this. He’d killed her. For that, he needed to die.

“No!” Ella screamed.

She appeared beneath me and I changed the course of my arm
to adjust for the new position. The knife sliced through her skin, thudding
into her unbeating heart. Her scream was a gut-wrenching sound. My chest
tightened as if I could feel her pain.

I let go of the knife and stared down at her. “I’m sorry,
Ella, I swear to fuck, I’m sorry.”

Her eyes widened and she gasped for breath. The crystal
exploded, shards of stone cutting my face. I pulled the knife free, the hole in
her chest cutting through me. I slammed my eyes shut and drew her close,
cradling her slight weight in my arms.

She was so tiny. So cold. So still.

I opened my eyes and pushed the strands of her hair from her
face. What the fuck had I done? Blood bubbled from the wound and spilled onto
my lap. I pressed my lips to hers and waited for her to disintegrate in my
arms.

What if the soul didn’t take?

“Don’t leave me,” I whispered, rocking her in my arms while
I waited for her true death.

Heat seared through my chest, infecting my heart and setting
my surging blood on fire. I tried to scream, to rage against the pain, but I
couldn’t move. Trapped in the dark with only teasing glimpses of pulsing
lavender light, I struggled to reach out and grab hold of it. The pale, fucking
pansy-ass purple aurora mocked, taunted and judged. The bottom dropped out
beneath me and I fell into a pit of endless black.

“Touch her and I’ll break your face.” Micah’s feral growl
vibrated through me.

Micah. My mate. My lover. My everything. I fought to free
myself from the weight pinning me to the darkness, keeping me from him.

I looked left and then right, struggling to move. Slithering
shadows moved through the glow of my soul and surrounded my wrists and ankles,
keeping me trapped.

Let me go, damn you!

A deep, patient sigh drifted through my blackness. As my
world vanished the voices faded. “I’m only suggesting we move her somewhere she’ll
be more comfortable.”

The last thing I heard was Micah. “Fuck off.”

My sins flashed before my eyes—each one worse than the one
before it.

I looked into Julian’s bright-blue eyes, tasted his fear and
anger. He was helpless—paralyzed by my power. My lips curved up in a pleased
smile and I slammed the glass shard into his eye, hitting the little black pin
drop as if it was a fucking target. Blood and fluid trailed down his face,
making his screams so much sweeter.

Hannah trembled against me, her heartbeat a staccato drum
that seduced. She was so fragile, like a little bird. I wanted to rip out her
throat and splash around in the puddle of her blood.

A voice that sounded similar to mine echoed—the purple light
pulsing with each word as if it spoke.
I’ll kill every last one of them.
Then, when I’m done, I’ll let you watch as I cut your brat-child out of my body
and feed it to you.

The lethargy weighing me down faded and I drudged up the
strength to open my eyes. In the stillness of the unfamiliar room, one thing
penetrated—I was alone. I flexed my fingers, gripping the cold silk sheets
beneath my palms. My lids fluttered, the darkness threatening to consume me,
and I pushed it away.

My head spun with images, thoughts, emotions and violent outbursts.
Pain. None of it made sense. Was I waking from a nightmare? I pressed my hand
to my forehead and sat up, the room spinning in that way it did before I
phazed. Except my bout of dizziness didn’t fade.

Vomit churned and I slapped a hand over my mouth, sprinting
out of bed, blindly following instincts. My shoulder slammed against the
doorjamb to the bathroom and I made it to the toilet without any time to spare.
I collapsed to the ground, knees slamming against tile, and retched, my muscles
convulsing in protest.

When it was over, ice invaded my veins. I shivered. Beads of
cold sweat rolled between my breasts, cutting a path through the dried blood
covering me. My stained party dress was no more and I hoped whoever removed my
clothing had burned it.

I shoved away from the toilet on shaky legs. I had no idea
where I was or why I was here. I searched my memory and nearly fell into the
black void that had taken residence in my mind. Flashes of rage, pain, anger
and amusement crawled out of the pit like reaching hands, but I couldn’t grasp
any of them.

In a daze, I pressed my palm to the wall and shuffled into
the shower on wobbly legs. The rush of water was cacophonous in the utter
silence, in my solitude. I stepped into the warming spray and rinsed the lingering
taste of vomit from my mouth before I washed away the blood. If only it was
that easy to sluice away the sin I felt clinging to my soul.

Clean, I shut off the water and stepped free of the stall.
Under my wet feet, the floor was slick. I stopped in front of the mirror and
stared at the fog, unable to see anything through the steam roiling in the air.

I pressed my palm to the slick mirror and swept away the
condensation, revealing my reflection. I stared. Pale skin, dark-brown hair and
bright, haunted blue eyes. My breasts were full and tender, the darker-than-normal
nipples covered by the trailing strands of my hair. Crimson no longer marked my
skin and I simply stared at the spot it had been. My soul ached, a deep
throbbing sorrow that filled me.

Micah was gone, no longer connected to me.

As I struggled to reconcile that loss, the previous
twenty-four hours hit me. Julian stabbing me. The torture. My glee. My power.
My connection to the vampires, the Fenrir. Eiven. Even though my stomach
churned, I forced myself to stare into my reflection and own my actions—every
horrendous one of them.

I’ll let you watch as I cut your brat-child out of my
body and feed it to you.

I might be alive—pregnant—but I sure as fuck wasn’t the same
dumbass girl who’d stepped into Julian and Richard’s little trap. Never again.
Through the open door, reflected in the mirror, Micah stepped into view.

Black streaks of what looked like soot smudged his cheeks
and forehead. Under the charcoal, a bruise in shades of blues and purples
ringed his left eye and cheek. A split in the center of his lower lip swelled,
and I had a fierce urge to flick my tongue over the hurts and soothe his
wounds.

I looked away from the dried rivulet of blood leaking from
the corner of his mouth, across his stubble-covered chin, and up into his
emotion-filled gaze. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn’t
slept in days.

My soul screamed at me to get closer, to burrow myself
against him and never let him go, but I no longer had that right. We weren’t
mated. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if he still loved me. I was cognizant of
everything he’d done to keep me—to save me. His actions touched me on a level I
couldn’t comprehend. He’d gone to hell and back to save me from myself. For
that, I could never repay him.

His actions weren’t a guaranteed happily ever after. I didn’t
believe in that shit. I could understand if he didn’t want me anymore. After
all, had he saved me because he loved me or because he couldn’t kill me?

The only thing I could do was man up, prepare for the
battles facing us and embrace who I was at my core. A killer. I didn’t see it
as such a bad thing anymore, not if it meant protecting Micah, my family, the
baby growing inside me. I knew the difference now—had lived on the other side of
the grass field or whatever the hell they called it. The black and white lines
no longer mattered, not when I painted my gray ones right down the fucking
middle.

Morals—my soul—were what kept me in check, kept me from
going all psycho-bitch and acting on every violent impulse my feral vampire fed
me. Some people deserved to die. Others to live. I was Queen and I knew what
that meant now—what I needed to do in order to step up. I also knew the Fenrir
needed a leader bound by honor, not a blood addiction that muddled the
boundaries.

The silence stretched between Micah and me. He stared at me.
I stared back. Even though only a few feet separated us, it felt more like a
continent. I lifted my chin, shoring up my strength for whatever blow he was
about to deal. I’d terrorized our family and friends, had threatened him with
unspeakable things. There was no more bond forcing him to stay with me.

“You’re awake.” His voice was deep and husky, how it got
when he was tired and on the verge of sleep.

I swallowed. “Where am I?”

“Julian’s mansion.”

My immediate reaction was to protest, but the words faded.
The fear, the emotions, the humiliation at my naïveté all those years earlier
were gone, as was the connection with my sire.

“The trial?” I asked.

“In a few hours.”

Micah stepped into the room and my heart kicked up a notch.
He was dirty, his clothes torn and stained with blood. A hard edge of tension
held his jaw clenched. He’d never looked more appealing. The last lingering
swirls of fog faded, as if Micah’s presence forced it from the room.

He stopped in front of me and I turned to him, my bare toes
touching his boots. I tilted my head back, the wet strands of my hair dripping
down my spine. Rivulets of water rolled ever so slowly, tickling my skin.

Micah cupped my cheek in his palm, his skin hot—his touch
chasing away the doubt and the dark memories of my time without a soul. I’m not
sure who moved first, him or me, but I lifted and he bent until our lips fit
together like two missing pieces finding their other halves.

Passion ignited—a deep-rooted desire that overwhelmed.
Electric sensation washed through me and I trailed my hand from his muscular
stomach to his chest. I curved my caress higher and stroked his neck. A low,
hungry growl rolled from his chest and he cupped my ass, forcing my body to
his—taking control—taking possession of what was his.

The first inklings of hope surfaced. I wanted to be his more
than anything. He nipped my lower lip and swept into my mouth. I moaned at the
wet, erotic slide of our tongues, the way he dominated our kiss. Passion
exploded, a rich elemental sensation that far surpassed anything I’d felt with
the bond.

This was our choice. Our want. Our need that couldn’t be
tamed.

I ran my fingers through his hair and held him closer. His
cock was a hard, solid length pressing against my stomach, proof of how I
affected him. He lifted and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carried me
to the bedroom and laid me out on the bed.

The mattress dipped beneath our combined weight and I felt
only the briefest of chills before Micah closed the gap between our bodies. I
spread my legs and he fit his pelvis against mine.

Micah broke from my mouth and stared down at me, his gaze
hot and hungry. Possessive. He pushed the wet strands of my hair from my face.

“I can see the lingering doubt your eyes, the wall you’re
building to protect yourself. You don’t know where we stand, what you mean to
me.”

I drew my fingers through the soft hair at his nape to tell
him he was wrong, that I knew exactly who and what I wanted. “Micah—”

He shook his head, silencing me. “Let me clear it the fuck
up right now. I didn’t think it was possible to love someone as much as I love
you. You are in my bones, Ella. In my soul. I can’t live without you. Won’t.
You’re mine—the man’s and the demon’s. All the facets of you are embedded in
me.”

The conviction in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice
melted me. The knot inside my chest eased. He’d seen the truly awful parts of
me, knew better than anyone what lurked inside. Despite it, he loved me anyway.
Tears pricked the backs of my eyes—fucking pregnancy hormones—and I captured
his lips before he could see them.

I refused to be the weak, whiny, hormonally challenged woman
I had been days ago. Micah deserved someone as strong as he was. I pushed at
his shirt, wanting it gone, needing his skin against mine.

Between us, he unzipped his jeans and toed off his boots. He
pulled away only long enough to shuck his clothes. Micah moved over me, fitting
his hips between my thighs. The combined heat of his skin and the energy
flowing between us made the water lingering on my body evaporate.

Micah rubbed my leg from the calf up to my thigh. Never
breaking eye contact, he spread me wide. In one slow thrust, he pressed his
cock into the slick opening of my sex.

I sucked in a breath at the deep penetration and arched my
back, trying to get closer. This was so unlike any time we had been together.
When he was in to the hilt, Micah paused. His cock pulsed.

“You’re mine.”

“Yours,” I agreed.

Micah dropped his forehead against mine and brought our
bodies together in a slow, powerful rhythm that rocked me to my core. I cried
out and clutched his shoulders, needing the connection to anchor myself. Micah’s
mouth found mine in a heated kiss.

His thrusts came harder, quicker, and I knew he was close.
When his body started to tremble and his skin pebbled, I knew it would be over.
I never wanted him to stop. I never wanted this exquisite pleasure to end.
Hooking a leg around his hip, I rolled until Micah’s back was on the mattress.

I rose above him and let the damp strands of my hair tickle
the hands he brought up to hold my face.

“I love you,” I whispered.

I sank down and took his cock into me. His eyes darkened
with pleasure. He moved his hands from my cheeks to my breasts and cupped the
tender mounds. I threw my head back and rocked my hips. My internal muscles
convulsed and I sensed Micah fighting the urge to throw me back and take
control.

Instead he wrapped his arms around my back and sat up with
me in his lap.

“Marry me,” he gasped as he thrust up into my body.

There was no hesitation. “Yes.”

He cupped my breast, bent and drew my nipple into his mouth.
The rough scrape of his teeth sent me spiraling into orgasm and I cried out.
Pleasure engulfed, stole my breath. My nails scored his back and the spicy
scent of his blood brought out my fangs. Despite the teeth, he gave me a deep,
long kiss.

He bucked his hips and ripped his mouth from mine. Our eyes
met. Held. His lips parted on a deep moan. The blue-green shade of his pupils
mixed, swirling together as his demon rose to the surface. His cock jerked and
the hot wash of his seed filled me. Mid-climax, Micah growled and pushed his
tongue into my mouth. He poured everything he had into me. I took it all and
gave him all of me in the process. My body trembled and we fell back onto the
bed in a tangle of limbs.

I took a long moment to catch my breath before I rolled into
him and asked, “Did you really ask me to marry you?”

He ran a hand down his face and grinned devilishly. “I did.
And you said yes, so don’t try to take it back. I won’t let you.”