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Even with that little voice reminding me—I don’tcare.
I straddle him as I yank my underwear aside, not having time to wriggle out of them. I line him up with my entrance and then sink down, releasing a breath when he’s sheathed in me.
He groans and seems trapped by indecision. I’ve clearly been affected by his blood, but the fate bond must be riding him too hard for him to comment on it.
He opens his mouth as if to say something, but I wriggle some more on him, making him dig his fingers into my skin.
He hasn’t gone in all the way. He doesn’t fit, but I’m determined.
He makes a pained sound when I start to roll and move, working my body to accept him.
Pleasure spikes with the intensity of his size. I don’t have experience with this and my body is still sore from Jasper, but I can’t feel any of that as I chase my goal.
Mine,my mind chants.
He promised me his body. He promised me his blood.
But this desire? It’ll demand his fucking soul.
Chapter27
Kornelius
Ihaven’t gotten much sleep in the past few days, especially after the vivid daydream Issy had shoved into my head.
It had taken me a moment to figure out that she was showing us all her past. It haunted me, but brought me closer to her all the same.
Fatigue has dragged me down, despite my best efforts to remain vigilant.
But, I’m wide awake now.
Royce isn’t the reason I’ve jolted straight up in my seat. My vantage point shows me exactly what Royce is up to, all from the comfort of my inconspicuous vehicle—not the overpriced hunk of metal Zyran drives around.
The wanna-be patriarch fucked one of his pets during the night—or multiple ones, I wasn’t sure, and he had a late start to the day. Now he’s making rounds, talking to his contacts, likely trying to find Ishara Doyle.
I know exactly where she is. I also know exactly what she’s feeling, and something’s wrong.
Lust shoots through my body, but it isn’t the lasting ache that first appeared when I laid eyes on my fated mate. It’s the kind of violent lust that comes with a vampire’s need.
I’m not sure what Zyran and the witch are up to, but they’ve shared more than just magic. Perhaps they’ve shared blood, too, which could prove dangerous.
We don’t know what our combined hybrid powers will do to the death witch, much less one bound to us not only by fate but also by a spell from the death plane.
Daithi still intends to take Ishara as his mate, and he’s already chosen Jasper as his vessel. All the more reason I’m okay with Jasper trailing after our father instead of spending more time with the witch.
Zyran has dark tastes, but I trust him.
Now, though, it seems Ishara is the one I need to worry about.
The telltale signs of death magic are tugging at a weight in the center of my chest. My powers gather it up, suctioning it until I explode.
In the case of a surge, such as a massacre, I’m drawn to the death site.
I don’t understand why I feel the same sensations. Tingling zings over my chest and I rub my fingers into my sternum, trying to dispel it.
If I’m spirited out of my vehicle, I’ll lose track of Royce.
My vision splinters with silver as death magic pulls at my center. My soul is thankfully linked to my flesh, so it won’t yank me out, mostly because I’ve learned how to intertwine the two.
