Page 144 of A Debt of Darkness

“She screams so fucking beautifully,” Rowan says, dragging a nail achingly softly. He’s mixing the sensation, stoking my fear and playing with me, tormenting me as his eyes darken further and his fangs grow even longer, threatening yet more violence.

He drags his claws down me and I scream again, releasing the pain as I cry out. Rowan strikes again and again, shredding my leg as his control slips and his movements turn frantic. The drips of blood quicken and my vision narrows as my cries grow louder and Rowan’s snarls turn vicious.

There’s a pause and I catch my breath, aware this isn’t a kindness. It’s designed to let me recover so he can continue, allowing me a few moments of relief before the pain returns. It’ll be worse after a pause, after the ecstasy of relief.

And I wait, expecting the inevitable burst of pain that shatters my consciousness, surprised when it doesn’t come. Instead, there’s a soft stroke up my thigh as Rowan’s hand glides over my blood-covered skin. It’s more disturbing than the wild look in his eyes. He’s out of control and the violence rippling through his body threatens to tear mine apart, sparing nothing and taking everything as his face moves closer.

He's closing in on his kill and his fangs descend, eager to pierce my flesh and drain my blood. Rowan succumbs to his primal urges and there’s no escape for either of us. He’s lost in his desire and I can’t free myself from his grasp, and as his tongue laps the blood from my skin I shudder, disgusted and dreading what comes next.

“So fucking sweet,” he says, darting his eyes up to savor the panic swirling through mine. “Honey and amber.”

He licks again and I writhe, frantic to escape what my brain tells me is inevitable.

“Beg for your life, pet.”

I shake my head and he roars in anger, furious I’ve disobeyed him. He asks again and I refuse, biting down hard enough to draw blood as I lock my jaw and deny him what he wants.

Rowan’s rage builds as the anger pulses through him and he throws his head back, baring his fangs. They’re fucking fearsome and my soul cries out in panic, too fucking afraid to do anything but scream.

I watch, half-frozen, half-startled as his fangs draw nearer to my thigh, threatening to pierce a major artery and take my life in seconds. I close my eyes, wishing I’d said everything I should have said and regretting all the things left undone. All the moments wasted and the opportunities lost, all those left unappreciated as I frittered away the preciousseconds I was gifted.

A hiss sounds through the silence, stifling the quiet it erases in a split second. My heart judders and there’s a second sound, a puff of something exploding, whimpering out of existence and into something far less tangible. There’s shock and awe, disbelief and devastation. And the whisper exploding around me leaves me untouched, still breathing while I wait for a pain that never comes.

My eyes peek open and dust plumes around me, bellowing like a cloud of ash after a fallout of catastrophic proportions. Its dark grey smoke falls toward the ground, covering me in the broken remains of a vampire no longer holding me. No longer on top of me.

Rowan’s gone.

And in his place is Marcus, standing with a dagger at the right level to have pierced his heart. The trace of debris on the silver blade confirms the kill and his eyes announce his victory, while his demeanor shifts to that of a conqueror basking in his glory.

Marcus has claimed Rowan’s life and his coven, defeating him for me and leaving me with only one enemy. A much more ruthless and controlled adversary, but at least there’s only one of them.

“Rowan was a fucking waste of space. Thank the gods we’re no longer forced to endure his presence.” Marcus stands erect, holding himself like a fucking emperor claiming his throne. “I couldn’t let him live when he was so dangerously out of control. I need you alive, my dear. Henry won’t come if you’re dead.”

Marcus raises his hands and the room falls dangerously silent. Pairs of eyes make themselves known as their owners emerge from the shadows within the darkness, bowing as they accept their place beneath their undisputed leader.

“MY. FUCKING. COVENS.”

Heads dip and silence reigns. Marcus turns slowly, surveying those beneath him and the kingdom he rules.

“You were right, Ivy,” Marcus says, flicking his fingers as he brushes ash and dust off them. “Rowan had neither grace nor manners. You’ll find I lack neither. Nor patience, my dear—and you’re in for an agonizing wait until Henry arrives.”

40

EVERY FEARFUL BREATH

HENRY

Matt has the decency to avoid making eye contact, while Ryan has the fucking good sense to position himself between us. Emmanuel lacks this awareness, frequently risking my wrath as we revisit the plan again. Another unnecessary, pointless rehearsal of what won’t come to pass and will become a fucking shitshow we either overpower or allow to overcome us.

“Can we get the fuck on with it?”

It’s Ryan who puts an end to Emmanuel’s step-by-step outline of how we’re going to storm the castle gates, disable enchantments and search every fucking room until we’ve killed every fucker in there and found Ivy. We know Marcus and Rowan’s covens are acting together and we’re sure they’ve got some rogue priests in there too. What we don’t know is how much time Ivy has left and every second matters.

For me, as much as her.

I can sense her agony and feel every fearful breath. Our bond has strengthened enough for me to know her emotions as if they were my own, and my wife is putting up a fucking furious fight. She’s refusing to give in to whichever cunt is torturing her, enduring hours of torture and torment. I don’t know what the fuck they’re doing to her, but I know it hurts and I know she’s scared—and those bastards will wish they’d never even heard her name by the time I’m fucking done with them.

“You realize this is a trap?” Matt asks, risking my ire.

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