Page 65 of Oath of Blood and Joy

I laid them on the bed, the bright red fabric stark against the dark bedding. “Elena or Serenity must have left this for you. I’ll buy you new clothes today.”

She held the blanket close to her chest, fingers clutching the edge tightly as if she’d become shy in the morning light. A flush spread across her cheeks, down her neck to where the marks of my claiming still showed. Her sudden modesty was endearing and perplexing after the intimacy we’d shared through the night. “Thank you,” she murmured, eyes downcast.

I crossed to her side of the bed in one fluid motion, cupping her cheek in my palm. Her skin was warm against my touch, her pulse quickening beneath my fingers. The contrast between her vulnerability and my strength awoke a fierce protectiveness in me. “Don’t be embarrassed of getting dressed in front of me, Joy.” The sound of her name on my lips felt like a claim, a promise. “You’re mine and I would enjoy watching you.”

The possessiveness in my words should have frightened her—would have frightened most humans—but her eyes darkened with something that wasn’t fear. The realization that she accepted my claim, perhaps even welcomed it, made something shift in my chest.

Joy slowly got out of bed, her dark hair hanging down in ringlets around her. The sight of her naked form in the morninglight was even more breathtaking than in the shadows of night—every curve, every mark I’d left on her skin, visible proof of our connection.

My gaze fixated on her as she pulled on the silky, lacy red underwear, the material clinging to her curves in a way that was almost as enticing as her nakedness had been. There was something profoundly intimate about watching her dress—a privilege granted to no one else in her life. Each movement was unconsciously graceful, unaware of how the simple act of covering herself affected me.

She slipped into the sundress that was tight around her breasts, which threatened to spill out of the heart-shaped bodice. The red fabric with white polka dots contrasted beautifully with her dark hair and eyes, the color bringing a flush to her cheeks that reminded me of how she looked in the throes of passion. She looked more beautiful than Serenity had in it, the dress somehow transformed by her wearing it.

And she was mine. The thought resonated through me with startling intensity. I had possessed many things—territories, riches, power—but never had ownership felt like this. Not possession in the sense of control, but in the sense of responsibility, protection, care. She had entrusted herself to me, and I would spill oceans of blood to be worthy of that trust.

Chapter Forty-Five

Joy

Enzo escorted me out of the room, his arm looped through mine, his touch both possessive and protective. The simple contact sent warmth spreading through me, a reminder of the night we’d shared. My cheeks flushed at the thought of everyone knowing what we’d been doing behind closed doors—the marks on my neck would be impossible to hide, especially from vampire eyes that missed nothing.

But as we walked down the stairs, I heard voices drifting up from below—Angelo’s commanding tone, Serenity’s melodic responses, Dimitri’s sardonic drawl, and then the one I had longed to hear for so long.

Steve’s.

Excitement quickened my heartbeat at the prospect of spending more time with my brother. Relief and anticipation tangled with a thread of unease. Would he be different? Would he look at me with hunger rather than brotherly affection?

None of it mattered. He was still my brother, the boy who had built forts with me in the living room, who had held myhand during our mother’s funeral, who had promised to always protect me.

Enzo must have felt the change in my pulse, his heightened senses picking up my emotional shift. His fingers tightened slightly around mine as he frowned, dark eyes searching my face. “Are you okay?”

“Steve’s here,” I whispered, suddenly finding it hard to speak past the lump in my throat. “I haven’t truly seen him for so long.” The words couldn’t begin to capture the tumult of emotions behind them—the time spent searching, putting up flyers, pleading with police who grew increasingly disinterested, crying myself to sleep wondering if he was alive or dead.

Now he was here, under the same roof, separated from me by just a flight of stairs. My steps quickened, drawing me toward the reunion I’d almost stopped believing would ever happen.

Steve stood in the living room, just like I had always remembered him. Unlike Dimitri and Angelo, he didn’t wear a suit. He had on a pair of black jeans and a leather jacket that looked worn in all the right places. His long red hair flared over his broad shoulders like a flame, wild and untamed, and he had a bandanna tied around his head—the same red one he’d always favored. Dark sunglasses were perched on top of his head, a shield ready to drop at a moment’s notice.

The sight of him, so familiar yet somehow different, made my heart constrict with emotion. This was my brother, the one who had taught me to ride a bike, who had sneaked me candy when our parents said no, who had stood between me and the world’s dangers for as long as I could remember. His stance was different now—more predatory, more alert—but the tilt of his head as he turned toward me was pure Steve, a gesture I would have recognized anywhere.

For a moment, I forgot everything else—the vampires surrounding us, the danger we were in, even Enzo at my side. AllI could see was my brother, alive and whole, when for so long I’d feared he was gone forever.

His face lit up when he saw me. “Joy.”

I ran across the room as fast as I could and jumped into his outstretched arms. He still had a heartbeat just like Enzo, but his was quicker, less controlled, betraying his newness to vampire life. He smelled like my brother—that familiar combination of pine soap and cinnamon gum he’d always favored—but with something new underneath, a subtle metallic note that hadn’t been there before. Despite the change, the essence of him remained, triggering a flood of memories: late-night talks on our porch, shared secrets, inside jokes that no one else understood.

“I’ve missed you. God, I’ve missed you,” I whispered against his leather jacket, my fingers digging into the material as if he might disappear again if I didn’t hold tight enough.

He spun me around, his grip stronger than I remembered. “Missed you too, sis. You had us runnin’ all over this damn city lookin’ for you.”

“I know. I know.” The words felt inadequate for everything we’d both been through.

“But she’s home now,” Enzo said behind me.

Steve put me down, his eyes briefly meeting Enzo’s over my head in a look I couldn’t quite interpret. “The girls are safe, by the way. Angelo sent ‘em to a hotel with Lorenzo watchin’ over them. They’ll be back with their families soon.”

“Zoe’s with them?” I asked, suddenly remembering my friend who’d been there through the worst of it.

Guilt stabbed through me. How could I have forgotten her, even for a second? She’d stood by me when no one else would. The fact that I hadn’t asked about her first made my throat tighten.

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