Page 131 of Dark Fate

His hold is intense and unwavering. I clasp him just as fiercely, our arms locked in a desperate grip, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Through the conduit of our bond, a torrent of emotion floods into me: starvation—his longing, his relief—each moment without me magnified a hundredfold from his perspective.

He engulfs me entirely as if imprinting my scent on his very being, and I match his fervor, devouring his presence in turn. In a swift, unyielding motion, he withdraws just enough to let our eyes lock, and in that sliver of a moment, his lips ambush mine—plundering the breath from me with a Viking greed. A sharp hint of my blood on his tongue intertwines with the fierce tenderness of his kiss, a passionate declaration scrawled in the language of urgency—painting his longing, adoration, and fierce claim over me in the boldest of strokes.

He traces a searing path with his kisses down my chin, descending to the vulnerable expanse of my neck. "Fuck…I… thought…I thought the worst—" he confesses, each word laced with such raw longing that it wrenches tears from my eyes.

"I'm here. I'm here," I whisper, trying to soothe his fears. Sensing the depth of his need, I lean into him, granting silent permission to claim what sustenance he requires, as I know what I fed him is not nearly enough for what he's endured.

The acute, thrilling pinch soon follows the graze of his fangs as they pierce my flesh. Drawing me in closer—if that's even possible—his arms become steel bands of protection, one hand tenderly weaving into my hair, cradling my head, as he partakes of my essence with exquisite care.

He drinks deeply, a moan vibrating against the curve of my neck as his venom ignites an immediate blaze of desire within me. I become liquid fire, my arousal scorching through me.

"Your flavor... fuck... I could drain you to the last drop," Rhyland's voice is a whisper in my head, laced with a deep hunger.

I draw him in tighter, driven by the urge for him to feed, to satisfy his craving—me being the sole source of his long-denied hunger. Draining me dry right now is the least of my concerns. My destiny is cradled in his grasp, and fear is nowhere to be found in me.

As Rhyland presses against me, his cock springs to attention like a soldier reporting for duty, and I can't help but let out a soft, seductive whimper. With a devilish grin, I clutch his hair, pull him closer, and grind against him with an intensity that leaves no doubt about my desires.

Then, with great reluctance, he ceases his intoxicating feast and presses his forehead to mine, inhaling my presence like a man starved of air. "I never fucking quit... I hung on—fought—for you."

"I know... I am so terribly sorry. Time twists differently in Atheria; I had no clue I'd been away for so long," I say, my voice trembling with emotion as I pitch my plea to him. I hope he grasps the truth of my words—that abandonment was never in my stars nor a part of the destiny that I've embraced with every fiber of my being.

I never wanted him to endure losing me, to feel the keen sting of my absence like a physical blow, like a void that can never be filled or a hunger that can never be sated. I never wanted him to know the bitter taste of abandonment, the sour ache of being left alone in a world that suddenly seems too big and too cold and too empty without the one you love by your side.

"No 'I'm sorry' bullshit; you never have to say you're sorry to me, ever." He brushes away the tears cascading down my cheeks; his own eyes shimmer with a tumult of sorrow yet glint with joy—relief so palpable. The vow forms in my heart: I’ll do anything to spare him this turmoil ever again. "I'm just so damn relieved you're alright. I was losing my mind over you—I had you in my arms, and then you fucking stopped breathing—" his forehead drops to mine. "Then you just...disappeared. I couldn't sense your presence, your essence, your goddamn light—just everything—gone."

I silence his fears with a kiss, pouring every ounce of my love into it. "I know..." I whisper between the fervent kisses. "I'm here... I'm alive," I reassure him, each word punctuated with another kiss.

The terror that must've gripped him as he cradled what he thought was my lifeless form is unfathomable. Were our roles reversed, I'd probably be on the fast track to a padded room in the nearest madhouse.

I notice he is already healing and looks ten times better than he did a moment ago. His skin has regained its healthy glow, and his muscles ripple with renewed strength. It's a stark contrast to the battered and broken man I held in my arms just moments before, a testament to the incredible resilience of his vampire physiology and my blood.

"We need to fucking leave, now." Rhyland's voice brooks no argument, the hard-ass Fjord Lord in full command.

Rhyland

61

The moment my eyes locked onto Dani, it was like a damn revival kicked off in my chest. I was hit by a rush of pure fucking euphoria, the kind that could wake a dead man—or in my case, a starved vampire who's felt nothing but the cold grip of loss for too long. This agony of being apart has been like living in a never-ending night, but seeing her now, it's the dawn, bright and blinding and oh so welcome.

Her blood hit me like a wave, chasing the shadows out of my soul with a vengeance. It's a wild, untamed sensation that sets every nerve alight—her essence, vibrant and essential, igniting the embers of my being with the promise of renewal. I'm breathing her in, and it's like my lungs remember what real air tastes like. Her presence is the fucking spark I've needed, reviving me, reminding me what it's like to feel truly alive.

Her touch is a brand, searing right through my skin, and fuck if it doesn't feel like coming home. I'm overwhelmed by love, fierce and possessive, and it grips me with the certainty that I'd tear the world apart before I let her go again. This is where she belongs—in my arms, now and always.

We go to leave, and in waltz, Azrael and Amara into this shitty underground cell—my personal slice of hell—with their entourage of her Shadow Court Fae army on their heels; I know it’s about to get messy. They circle us like a couple of vultures eyeing their next meal, but Dani, she’s standing beside me like she’s ready to take on the whole damn army.

Azrael's lips twist into that infuriatingly smug, shit-eating grin that makes me want to rip his face off. "Well…if it isn't the esteemed Doctor Pierce! How gracious of you to finally bestow upon us the honor of your presence," he drawls, his voice dripping with biting sarcasm. "And I must say, your dearRhylandhas been an absolutely delightful guest, savoring every moment of our warm hospitality. Isn't that right,Rhyland?" He turns to me, his eyes glinting maliciously as he delivers the taunting question.

I shoot him a death glare; no fucking way am I letting him haul my ass back to that dark cesspit in my mind. He's been keeping me in it like some trophy for weeks. The thought alone of spending another second in this hellhole with him and that cold-hearted bitch makes my skin crawl.

"Going somewhere?” he mocks, his gaze flickering between me and Dani.

Dani's got her game face on, chin jutted out, and her stance screams she’s not to be messed with. "Actually, Azrael, we're off to a party," she quips with a sharp edge of sass. "Strictly VIP. Too bad your invite took a detour to the trash."

Amara slinks in, all high and mighty, a sneer plastered on her face like we're the dirt under her boots. "Feeling optimistic, are we, darling?" she taunts, voice dripping scornfully. "Hate to break it to you, but there's no exit ticket from this."

Dani cocks an eyebrow and fires off a wry grin. "Well, damn, if it isn't the Queen Bitch of Bullshit of Oz herself. You bet your ass I'm all sunshine and rainbows, knowing I'll get front-row seats to the fireworks show where you're the sparkler, paying up for all the shit you've dragged my man through."

Dani whirls her daggers like a damn maestro, that smirk on her face screaming one thing loud and clear: you're fucked.

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