22. My Newly Darkened Soul

twenty-two

My Newly Darkened Soul

Alessia

A hysterical laugh bubbles up, and my eyes water. Rainer’s hand quivers against my back. I straighten, turning to him, concerned. His face is pale, sweat lining his forehead. I meet his glossy eyes, instinctually knowing what’s wrong.

“You need to recharge,” I say.

“I’m fine, mo róisín.”

“When is the last time you fed?” I know he hasn’t touched Fern, and he denied Sera’s juice-blood. “You’re clearly drained, and we’re just starting our journey.”

I pull my hood back, moving my braid from my shoulder and baring my neck to him.

“Drink,” I order.

“No,” he says in a strained voice.

He turns, moving away from me, but I grab his wrist. Even in his weakened state, he’s strong enough to pull free, but he lets me tug him back to me.

His eyes blaze to life as he narrows his gaze on me. “I don’t do well with being told what to do.”

“And I never thought I’d light the lord’s house on fire, but here we are. People— fae change.”

He smirks at this, firmly gripping my chin. His eyes flit to my lips, then drag up my face. “I am not drinking from you. ”

I hold his stare, refusing to cower under his intense gaze. Sweat prickles at my spine from the infernos not too far away. “We need to go, but I’m not moving until you refuel yourself.”

He sighs, his lip curling up at the side. “You beautiful, stubborn creature.”

“Drink from me , or you drink Seraphina’s concoction.” I raise a brow in challenge.

He drops my chin, running that hand through his hair. “I’m weak against you, mo róisín.”

My heart flutters as he steps closer.

“Who is stubborn now,” I murmur, fisting his hair and drawing him closer.

The flames behind him rise higher, skimming the sky. There should be a sense of urgency as if we should hurry before we get caught, but I only feel an unexpected peace. Even with the disturbing, sickeningly sweet odor of burnt flesh and the symphony of screams, I’m unbothered in Rainer’s presence.

Rainer drags his nose up the column of my throat, inhaling greedily. “I refuse to taste anyone but you.”

I go still, releasing his hair. But I don’t move away.

He pulls back, giving me an apologetic look. “Your blood is much too decadent. Incomparable to anyone else’s, if I’m being honest.”

I chuckle, pulling him back to my neck. “Just drink, you bastard.”

He draws closer again. His hand wraps around the back of my neck, but he pauses, his lips tugging downward.

“What is it?” I say, growing impatient with the want for him to touch me—to take his fill .

“There’s no Eoin here to heal your wounds.”

“We have Sera and her healing salve.”

“It’s a limited supply,” he says flatly.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’d rather not give the humans fodder for gossip. It could unravel our disguise.”

“What disguise?” I laugh, touching his pointy ear. “You’re very clearly fae—all of you. They don’t make humans with quite the same beauty.”

A low growl builds in his throat. “You better be referring to me, not my brother—or Kenisius.”

I smirk. “I meant what I said. All of you have ethereal beaut—”

He pounces on me, descending into my sensitive underarms with his supple fingers, tickling me. I screech, wiggling until I’m breathless, and he finally pulls back.

“Fine. You’re the most handsome of them all,” I whisper when I finally catch my breath.

Color floods his cheeks as he turns away, as if not wanting me to see how my words affect him.

“We’ll need disguises later,” he says, clarifying what he meant a moment ago. “And the less Tynan has to change with his glamour, the better. It costs him a great deal in blood consumption.”

“So what do you propose?” I ask, my voice growing husky. “If biting my neck is too… inconvenient.”

His expression grows intense as his eyes drag down my body, landing on my inner thigh.

I squirm, remembering the feel of him between my legs. Slowly, I reach up to undo the button of my pants. He watches wordlessly as I pop it open. Then, I lean back into the grass, looping my fingers in the waistband.

“Wait,” he growls, eyes flickering. His hand lashes out to stop mine. “Are you sure?”

I feign confusion. “It’s just a little bite to help out a friend. Of course, I’m sure.”

“Friend,” he repeats hoarsely.

His grip loosens, and he pulls back, allowing me to wiggle my pants down to my knees. I lie back, presenting myself as an offering.

A few tense moments pass, and I prop myself back up on my elbows when he doesn’t move. “What’re you waiting for?” I gesture to the roaring fires behind him. “We don’t have all day.”

A dark chuckle leaves him. “This isn’t going to work.”

My nose wrinkles. “What’s not going to—ahhh—”

He grips my left boot, yanking it off in a swift motion. Then he does the same to the other, and my body jerks with the force. A disbelieving laugh pops out of my mouth. Once my feet are free, he tugs my pants down around my ankles and then effortlessly plucks them clean off my body.

Reaching up, he plants his hands on the inside of my knees. His eyes stay locked on mine as he gently presses down, spreading me open in front of him.

“Just friends,” he growls.

Before I can respond, he dives between my legs, plunging his teeth into my fleshy inner thigh.

I gasp, letting the euphoria of his bite sweep me away. After a few gentle suckles, he pops free. He wipes his mouth, pulls back, and takes me in .

“You’re not the same girl you once were, Alessia,” he says, running his finger across the small wounds I know are now on display. He stares at them with reverence, then dives back in for more. I whimper, roiling in the grass beneath him. He places his palm on my stomach, his fingers splayed out. It’s less of a demand not to move and more of a claim. I’m his to feast on.

“I—sorry,” I say meekly, my chest rising and falling vigorously with the adrenaline. “If I’ve been too feisty.”

He pops free, narrowing his gaze on me. “Don’t apologize, or I’ll punish you for that.”

I suck in a sharp breath. Before I can ask what the punishment would be, he descends on me again. This time, his mouth hovers over my underwear, his warm breath heating my neediest part. The heat of his lust is incomparable to the fire roaring behind us.

I squirm, desperate to draw closer to his skin, wanting friction.

“Just friends,” he whispers, his lips grazing my underwear. He hovers there momentarily, just breathing, with each exhale teasing me. I wiggle, begging for him to lean forward and add pressure.

Instead, he shakes his head and laughs sarcastically. Then, he stands, storming off.

For a second, I lie back stunned, with no pants on and two tiny bloodied holes in my thigh.

A rage floods me, dragging me under. I push myself to a seat. “You will not leave me like this, Rainer Rohan Iorworth!”

A blast of my anger shoots out—in the form of a shadow strand. The dark wisp stretches toward Rainer’s retreating form and wraps around him like a fist. Effortlessly, it drags him back and plants him in front of me .

His expression is unlike anything I’ve ever seen, his mouth agape and his brows practically touching his hairline. He seems to shake it off, quickly reverting to his usual scowl.

“You’re playing dirty,” he says, eyes flickering with intrigue.

“You are going to help me clean up, then you’re going to help me lace up those damn boots.” I point to said boots, unimpressed with the amount of lacing required to get them on and off.

His lips curve slightly at the ends, and he bows his head. “Yes, my rose.”

He drops to his knees, heeding my requests. First, he licks up the tiny bit of blood trailing from my wound, then he locates my pants and helps me slide them on.

I grin at the top of his head as he pulls my boots on, lacing them with tender care.

The shadow recoils deep inside me, pleased and purring like a cat as it snuggles against my newly darkened soul.