20. Livana

Chapter 20

Livana

" T ell me about your mother," Ingle says, his fingertips trailing along the length of my arm as we lounge in bed. "You've never told me what she was," he continues, flashing those pretty blue eyes down at me.

Hesitance clings to my insides. I've kept my secret my entire life. I've never told anyone what I really am, but Ingle...he's my Linked.

He met me a day after my eighteenth birthday, bought me a drink at the tavern I worked in. He's a half-phoenix who's funny and kind and handsome, and he's easy to talk to. He's the first real friend I've made in years, and despite telling him I never settle in one place for long, he stayed with me. Following me from town to town, never pushing me for answers as to why I move so much.

He knows I'm half-succubus, knew what would happen if he made the conscious decision to sleep with me three times. Knew that his life would be Linked to me forever and that he would crave my bite and my body to the point that he'd have withdrawals if he didn't get it regularly.

A dangerous concept, one I tried to talk him out of for weeks before I finally relented, seduced by the idea of not traveling this world alone.

"Why do you want to know so much?" I ask, doing my best to not let the question bother me. I've told him almost everything about my past, and it felt good to confide in someone, but I never told him what my mother was, what half of me is, out of fear. Cold and icy, ingrained in me since birth, fear.

"I'm your Linked," he says, shifting on the bed to settle over me, planting kisses over my chest and neck and jawline. "I want to know everything about you."

I swallow hard, trying my best to focus on the light, sweet touches he's giving me, but unable to shake a sense of foreboding gathering in my stomach. "What if you don't like what you hear?"

He pauses, looking up from where he hovers just above my chest and smiles at me. "That's not possible," he says. "I like every single piece of you." He continues his kissing, upping his pace as he showers me with attention.

Adrenaline seeps into my bloodstream, making my heart race. He's my first ever Linked and it's still fairly new, but if there's anyone I can be honest with, isn't it him?

From everything I've learned about my species, Linked are loyal.

Still, every instinct in my body is screaming at me to not tell him.

I shake off the sensation, chalking it up to the fact that one of the lessons I remember most clearly from my father was to never, ever reveal what I was.

Ingle kisses me again, smiling at me before he hops off the bed. "I'm going to make you a snack, and then I'm going to ravish you and then you can ravish me and we can start the process all over again."

I shake my head as he moves toward the small table in the corner of our room, all manner of breads and cheeses and meats and fruit spread atop it.

I had a good week dancing, and made more money than I knew what to do with. Indulging like this was a small luxury. There've been many times in my past that I slept in back alleyways, hiding behind garbage troughs before seeking desperately for someone to feed from. I cherish these small luxuries.

Ingle shifts some things around on the table, looking completely relaxed and content in this simple life that we've created for ourselves. The longer I watch him create a little platter of snacks for me, the more confident I become.

He's my Linked, I can trust him.

"My mother was a tress," I admit on a released breath.

The admission feels like a betrayal and a relief at the same time.

Ingle goes wholly still, the knife he'd been using to slice the hunk of bread freezing as he turns to look at me over his shoulder. "That's not a funny jest," he says.

I swallow hard, sitting up in the bed, keeping my naked body covered with the sheet as I look at him. "It's no jest," I say. "It's the truth."

"I don't believe you," he says.

My heart pounds a little harder in my chest, my stomach clenching. I raise my free hand, allowing the barest of my magic to release from my fingers, the green energy crackling and no brighter than a candle flame.

His blue eyes go wide, something churning in them I can't decipher. He's still holding that hunk of bread in one hand, the knife in the other, his snack assembly completely forgotten.

"Say something."

He blinks a couple times, something settling over his features as he scoops up the tray of snacks and walks over to me. He sets the tray down to my left, and I breathe a sigh of relief that he's willing to talk ? —

He slashes the knife near my throat, and I dodge just before it connects.

I scramble off the bed in a panic.

He gives chase, wielding that knife in his hand in a way I've never seen.

"Ingle," I plea. "Stop, you know me ? —"

"Know you?" he spits the words at me. "I can't believe you! You allowed me to Link with you, a tress? You traitorous, selfish trash."

Tears gather in my eyes, but I'm too busy evading his attacks, the cramped confines of our once comfortable room hindering me.

"Stop," I say as he slashes that knife at me again, my keen senses allowing me to easily dodge it. "Ingle, just stop and listen. I would never do anything to hurt ? —"

"What were you going to do?" he cuts me off. "Use me as your own walking blood donor, have me Linked and simpering after you as you steal younglings in the night for your sacrifices?"

I furrow my brow, disbelief rippling down my spine. "When have you ever seen me sacrifice anything ? Let alone cast a spell? Do you really think I could hurt anyone?"

"Once a tress, always a tress," he says, spewing more of that ancient, hateful rhetoric my way.

He lunges across the small space separating us, drawing on his phoenix powers to fly across the room and slam into me.

My spine cracks against the floor, my vision blurring from the impact. His hand is around my throat as I struggle beneath him. He's using all his strength to pin me down, those once affectionate blue eyes staring at me with utter hate and disgust.

"You're going to pay for this," he spits. "You're going to pay for allowing me to Link with you. What did you think was going to happen? That I would accept this? No one would ever accept this. At the bare minimum, you tied my life to yours. A life on the run, if the collector core found out that I Linked with you." He plunges the knife toward my neck, and I reach up to block it, the blade nicking my hand. "Have to do this. Have to sever this bond."

He moves the blade towards my throat again, and I shake my head.

"You don't have to do this," I say, tears rolling down my cheeks now. "Ingle. Please. I don't want to hurt you."

"Hurt me," he says, shaking his head. "You betrayed me for your own selfish gain." He draws the blade back, and my instincts kick in, my fangs punching out in a hurry as I draw on my strength and block the knife meant for my heart.

I flip him over and sink my fangs into his flesh, ripping and tearing as my self-defense instincts take over.

My primal needs are fueled by hurt and rage and guilt and grief, swirling together as I drink and drink and drink until his hands go limp and his eyes go lifeless.

I draw back quickly, stumbling across the room until my back slams into the door a few feet away from his lifeless body. His blood and mine pool together along the floor.

I cry and tuck my knees up to my chest in an attempt to become as small as I possibly can.

He was going to kill me. He was actually going to kill me. My Linked.

A commotion sounds beneath me, collector core yelling as they knock down the door of the tavern.

I don't waste time. The last thing I need is for them to find that I've drained someone, let alone discover what I really am.

I'm dressed in seconds, throwing my satchel over my chest as I spare one last look at Ingle's body on the floor.

Guilt threatens to buckle my knees, but I lock it up, knowing that it was either me or him.

I jump through the window, slamming onto the ground a few feet below me. The feeling of loneliness threatens to swallow me whole. If my Linked is willing to kill me for what I am, then there truly is no one I'll ever be able to be myself with. No one I'll ever be able to confide in.

I can never show anybody who I really am, and I'll never be able to Link again.

I'm alone.

Utterly, pathetically alone.

The thought echoes in my heart over and over as I disappear into the night…

The sound of steel scraping against stone jerks me out of the nightmare, one I've had more times than I can count in the past decade. I can barely open my eyes, my limbs feeling weak and heavy, my head aching like an axe has been lodged into it.

The ground beneath me is cold and damp and beyond the sound of the steel, I can hear rushing water in the distance.

My memory knits its itself back together, flashes of the opposing drifter group, being captured and tortured, and then the Banachs almost killing Zev and Jagger, the power I'd used to stop them?—

My eyes snap open, and I clamber to my feet, taking stock of my surroundings. A small relief at the sight of Zev and Jagger washes over me. At least I'm not in some dungeon in the Collector's Keep.

From one heartbeat to the next, I spot Zev sharpening his massive long sword, no doubt wanting it to be a clean kill when he removes my head from my shoulders.

Jagger is across what I can only tell is a cave, sitting on the other side of a fire. He rises to stand with his hands up, his eyes wide. I look behind Zev, where I can see the opening of the cave.

I barely have the strength to stand, my muscles still trembling from my earlier torture, the silver, and the overuse of my own power, but I have to try.

I have to run.

Zev holds a sharpening stone in one hand and the hilt of his sword in the other, looking at me with concern in his eyes, the flames of the fire reflected in that golden gaze.

I bolt toward the exit of the cave, drawing on what little speed I can muster.

"No! Wait!" Jagger calls from behind me.

I don't bother looking back, only forward at that exit. I'll figure out where they've taken me after I get free. I will not die by their hands. I will not die until I finish what I've sought out to do.

I hear something clatter behind me, and then Zev slams into me so hard we both tumble to the ground, him rolling until he's on top of me.

Tears are instantly in my eyes, the exhaustion not allowing me to hold my emotions in check. I struggle against his massive weight, but I'm no match for him in my weakened state.

"We're not going to hurt you," Jagger says, rushing to Zev's side.

The memory of Ingle's betrayed and angry face flashes before my eyes. This time I'm not going to have the strength to defend myself. I'm going to die on this cave floor just because of the blood that runs through my veins, and the Collector will go on ruling and living and harming innocent creatures .

"We're not going to hurt you," Jagger says again as I continue to fight against Zev's hold.

"Horseshit," I say through my tears. "The one and only person I've ever Linked with tried to slit my throat the second he found out what I was. And he wasn't a drifter."

A low growl rumbles in Zev's chest, so powerful I can feel it against my body. I thrash again, screaming, raging at the fact that I cannot move his massive weight. I don't want to die like this.

"You're not going to die," Zev says from above me, responded to the plea I hadn't realized I'd said aloud.

My mind is whirling, black leaking into the edges of my vision the harder I try to fight him off, the more I exert myself.

I fucking hate silver.

In this moment, I hate silver more than anything else on this goddessdamn planet.

I hate what it does to me. The black is almost all-encompassing now, and the fight goes out of me, and I lay unmoving as tears continue streaming down my cheeks.

"Livana," Zev says my name, and it's the first time I've ever heard him use it, the plea and command enough to snap my focus to his golden eyes. "Stay with me," he says, as if he can sense that I'm about to lose consciousness.

He shifts above me, taking something out of Jagger's hand. His hand jerks and the smell of his blood becomes so potent that my pupils dilate and my fangs punch out.

He brings his wrist to my lips, the fresh wound open and gleaming and dripping blood. "Drink, little tress," he demands.

Instinct drives me, and I open my mouth, letting his blood rush in. I moan at the flavor. He releases my arms to allow me to grip his hand and forearm, holding that wrist to my lips as I drink and drink and drink.

Each swallow is a revelation, a burst of energy to my overworked body.

He moves against me, easing some of his weight so I can fully breathe and know I'm in control. It's a small mercy, and my mind whirls with it. Whirls with the flavor of his blood and the desire I can taste not just from him, but also from Jagger, who watches right next to us.

The fear in me dies. Taken over completely by my baser instincts. I pour my own desire into the bite, and relish the way Zev groans and shifts against me, his hard length pressing between my thighs.

Zev draws me up, and I continue to drink as he moves to have me straddle his lap, Jagger moving behind me, offering soothing caresses down my spine.

Their touches aren't harsh.

Their touches aren't meant to harm me.

They don't want to kill me. They want me.

I can't even shift through the need pulsing through me in order to logically think that one out. And I don't care. The only thing I can think about is the way Zev feels against me and how Jagger feels behind me.

I lick the wound closed on Zev's wrist, drawing back and sucking in a sharp breath. His and Jagger's desire are still feeding me, making me buzz with a current of electricity that's making me restless.

"Livana," Zev says my name again as he smooths back my hair. "Are you all right? Do you want this? Want us in this way? After what Balan almost?—"

"I want you both," I say, my words almost guttural with the emotions clinging to my throat that he's asking, checking in with me to make sure I want this even when my instincts are screaming at me to take what I need from them.

I don't think, I only act , slanting my mouth over Zev's and moaning as he opens up for me. His tongue meets mine in a primal dance that we've only done once before.

I reach behind me, welcoming Jagger and his needy mouth onto my neck, arching as his hands come around me from behind and massage my breasts.

Zev's hands are roaming and powerful as he grips my hips and rocks me against the hardness beneath his leathers.

Everywhere they touch is a flame to my skin, consuming and yet somehow not enough. I break Zev's kiss, arching my head back and finding Jagger's lips, my heart racing in that delighted way that makes my head absolutely bubbly.

I don't know whose clothes come off first, mine or Jagger's or Zev's, but between kisses and touches, these two powerful males are completely bare to me and I to them, and Zev positions me over his lap again, teasing his thick head through my slick slit until I'm shivering.

Jagger kisses up my spine as Zev's lips trail over my breasts. It's everything I could ask for and more. My entire body narrows to the sensation of their touch, their kisses, the way they feel enveloping me. My body's needs are driving me, making me shiver relentlessly.

"Sit on my cock, little tress," Zev demands, his hands flexing on my hips where he's been teasing me relentlessly.

I do as I'm told, sinking down, drunk off the way he groans, his muscular chest flexing as I lift myself up and down atop him.

Goddess, he's thick and large and stretches me with the sweetest burn. I've barely adjusted myself to the size of him before Jagger is pushing at me from behind, drenching himself with me before dragging his cock down the line of my ass, teasing the tight hole.

Jagger grips my chin with one hand, forcing me to look over my shoulder at him as he continues to tease me. "Let me in, dove," he begs.

I tremble, relaxing my body to welcome him in too.

I gasp, slowing to accommodate both of them, my heart and chest full, my entire body filled with these two incredible males. I grab the back of Zev's neck with one hand, reaching behind me with the other to take Jagger's hand and place it over the center of my chest as I rock back and forth between the two.

It's frantic and hurried and driven by the need for that release I can feel pounding on the doors inside of me, coiling in white-hot knots with every thrust from them.

My mind spins, my breath catching as my entire body clenches around them, both working me up until I feel like I'm going to snap at any moment.

"We've got you," Jagger says, his lips grazing the shell of my ear as he kisses down my neck, continuing to fuck me from behind. The motions drive the pace as I ride Zev, and I submit myself to the two of them, letting them have their way with me. It's one of the most intoxicating things I've ever felt.

"Look at me," Zev demands, and I meet his golden eyes as both of them continue to thrust and pump inside me, working me up more and more.

Zev shifts his hand between us, leaning back slightly so he can roll his fingers over my throbbing clit, and I gasp at the pleasure in it.

"I want to watch you come on our cocks," he says, holding my gaze with the primal dominance that has my fangs aching to sink into him. "Our greedy little tress," he growls.

He works my aching clit in tight circles, both of them finding a punishing rhythm, leaving me to do nothing but hold on.

"Zev," I moan. "Jagger," I continue, my breathing ragged as I feel my release swirl inside me.

They pump harder, slamming into me in the most delicious way, Zev's hand causing me to shatter completely around them both. My pleasure rolls in waves that have me arching my head back, leaning against Jagger's shoulder as I tremble around them.

" Fuck ," Zev groans as he finds his release inside me.

Jagger captures my lips as he shudders behind me.

Zev's mouth is at my collarbone as Jagger concentrates on my mouth, and my body tingles, my flesh oversensitive as they continue to lavish me with pleasure until we've all come down and have caught our breath.

They gently remove themselves, Jagger quick to grab a cloth and clean me up with surprising tenderness.

I almost start crying again.

Jagger helps me get dressed, as Zev slides on his leathers again, his brow furrowed as he looks from me to Jagger and back again. There's so much confusion there, yet a sense of determination that I can't quite decipher.

I glance between them, watching as Jagger gets dressed.

"So, you won't be killing me then?" I ask, needing to hear the answer out loud.

Zev shakes his head, and Jagger reaches out to smooth his hand over my cheek.

"No," Jagger says. "We won't be killing you."

I nod, breathing deeply. "That's twice for both of you," I say. "We can't do this again?—"

"We know," Zev cuts me off. "But you needed to regain your strength."

"So that's all it was?" I ask before I can stop myself. "The two of you just wanted me healed?" They don't owe me anything more than that. They're already granting me an unbelievable kindness by not trying to slit my throat.

"It feels more complicated than that," Jagger admits.

I look at Zev, knowing he's the most duty-bound of these two drifters, and I hate that I want his clarification more than anything.

"I don't have answers for you," he says, stepping closer to me, his golden eyes looking me up and down before meeting my gaze again. "Save for one," he continues. "You have nothing to fear from me, little tress."

His words are so sincere that I can't hold back the flood of tears any longer, and before I can do anything to stop them, Zev envelops me in an embrace that I cling to and hold nothing back.