Page 49 of Fated In Ruin

Then he dragged his fangs down my throat and I turned my head, offering myself to him. I wanted him to take every piece of me, wanted him to consume me until there was nothing left, and when his fangs sank in, pinning me down with his bite and his weight and the thrust of his cock, I shattered into a million pieces.

I broke, like I’d never broken before, pieces of myself lost to this implosion of pure pleasure, where the only thing binding me to the here and now was the weight of Malachi’s body on mine and his cock filling me up, and then, somehow, impossibly…

Like it was my own, his need rose like a leviathan, deep and demanding, unstoppable, a lifetime of raw, pent-upwantraging and thrashing until finally, he dragged his tongue up the side of my throat and growled out my name, his cock pulsing inside me, painting me with his seed.

I clenched around him, and then I was free, free to wrap my arms around him, dig my heels into his ass as he rode me to completion, groaning out my name, over and over again.

We were fire and shadow and illusion and we burned together, brighter than the stars, colder than the deepest, darkest depths, and we clung to one another as we flew higher than seemed possible.

And we never let each other go.

* * *

Hours later,I watched him peel another sliver of red wax off my body, kissing the pink spot with a tenderness I never could have imagined from the cold, arrogant Malachi Draven.

The entire room smelled like sex—male musk and warm winds with a layer of cedar and the rich scent of fresh roses from the garden.

I was sprawled over him, my fingers tracing patterns on his chest, pausing over every mark and scar, too tired to ask about them, but wondering, all the same. Neither of us brought up tomorrow, or Ravok, or what came after this. Because neither of us wanted to know the answer.

So being the coward I was, I snuggled closer, closed my eyes, and went to sleep.

22

EVANGELINE

Iwoke up alone, drowning in silky black sheets saturated with the scent of sex.

The castle was quiet, all I could hear was the sound of my own breathing, shallow and sharp, as I wallowed in guilt.

Malachi was right about one thing.

I did not handle regret well.Or at all.

The door to my bathing chamber was ajar, steam wafting out in white billowing waves, scented with something sweet—lavender, maybe. There were fresh roses on my nightstand, still opening up, and I wrapped myself in a sheet and plunged my nose deep into them, their cool velvety petals caressing my warm cheeks.

One glance to my right and I was staring at my reflection in the floor-length mirror.

Even wrapped in a flowing black sheet, I looked different.

Beneath the paleness of my skin, beneath the dark circles and mussed up hair, a different kind of hunger stirred—a gnawing thing, insidious and relentless. Not for blood, not for power, but forabsolution.

I had done something unforgivable.

The weight of guilt pressed down on me, a suffocating hand at my throat. I tried to rationalize the crime I committed last night, to carve out some tortured justification, but the truth coiled around my ribs like a serpent. I had betrayed them both. Blake’s unwavering devotion, and Riordan’s trust. I had turned my back on two males who’d stood by me, and now, I was drowning in my own chaos.

And yet, even knowing that, I couldn’t regret what I’d done.

Not completely.

Because what had happened with Malachi had been inevitable. Somehow—and I didn’t know how, last night had seemed like the culmination of centuries—eons—of waiting. Like we’d been searching for each other our whole lives, and now that’d we’d found each other, the world could finally start turning again.

Which didn’t make a bit of logical sense.

But my heart knew the truth.There would be atonement for my actions.

I pressed my fingers against my temples, willing the storm inside my head to quiet as I looked at the phone on the dresser.

I should text Blake and Riordan. Tell them I was going to Sleepy Hollow. Tell them thegoddamned truth. But the thought of their disappointment, their fury—was unbearable. I’d broken something sacred between us, and I didn’t know how to fix this.

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