Page 176 of Caelum

Eve’s song came to an abrupt halt, and her, “Eren?” was breathy and confused.

“Yes?” I rasped, unable to face her, unable to look at her. The mixture of shame from my inability to walk into a fucking dark cupboard blended with the shame at having a hard-on when she’d been trying to soothe me and take away the panic that robbed me whenever darkness fell.

“What’s happening?” she whimpered, and the words stunned me from my self-pitying thoughts. My head whipped around as I looked at her, and I saw her pupils were like pinpricks as she stared up at me as though I had the answers to the world in my hand.

“What’s wrong?” I demanded as I reached up to cup her face.

“I-I’m so hot,” she muttered, and her cheeks were flushed—a not too uncommon sight where she was concerned—but this wasn’t from embarrassment or discomfort. It looked like she was running a damn fever!

I pressed the back of my hand to her forehead and winced at the heat coming off her. What the fuck was happening?

Because I had no idea what to do and knew I couldn’t ask anyone because we were pretty much writing our own encyclopedia where Eve was concerned, I simply bowed my head and touched our foreheads together.

“Breathe with me,habibi,” I whispered, and when she sighed, her breath brushed my lips and I sucked down the air that was tinted with her.

I blew out a breath when I felt the heat move from her and transfer into me. The second the heat hit me, I winced from the intensity.

I’d never expected this. Never anticipated this would happen today. Not in the kitchen, not after a panic attack. Not on her fucking birthday. And sure as hell not on a day when she was Succubus to the core.

But happen it did.

The heat pooled in my stomach, which was odd as shit. It was like when you ate too hot soup and it burned its way down your gullet and settled in your belly, an uneasy reminder that you were an impatient glutton. It settled there for a handful of seconds before dispersing again, and though my eyes flared wide as I felt the heat coalesce through my organs and approach my back, I accepted what was happening.

The pain came next.

It felt like a thousand needles were digging into my skin, rubbing over sensitive areas that were loaded with nerve endings. Down my spinal cord then over to the tender flesh of my hip. But I embraced it because it was her. Choosing me.

I didn’t have to look in a mirror, didn’t have to twist and turn to feel the mark settle into my bones. It was there, as it was always meant to be.

Only when the mark was complete did Eve sag against me, and I hauled her into my arms, holding her tightly in both gratitude and a need to keep her upright.

That had taken a lot out of her, and having seen how she’d claimed Nestor and Dre, I knew what she’d done was unusual. She hadn’t staggered forward when she’d Chosen them, and I’d seen the first touch between Stefan and her… they’d paused for a handful of seconds as the life-altering moment went down, but she hadn’t begun trembling like a leaf caught in a storm.

I wanted to ask her what she’d done, but there was no point. I was well aware she wouldn’t know, and that what had happened was based in instinct. Like the beat of our hearts, the expanding and release of our lungs—her Choosing me had been a visceral response. More than that, I was sure it was her souls’ reaction to my terror. Which, in turn, made me wonder how her souls were functioning, how they were making this happen.

Why did Stefan, Reed, Frazer, and I bear her mark, but she wore Dre and Nestor’s? How had she Chosen me today when her Succubus was in charge?

Was the power of her souls blending? Taking us forward to a destination none of us knew, but that was as destined as our meeting?

Eve’s gifts, the way things were developing, it would be foolhardy not to think it was for a reason.

And though my days of following a religion were long gone, my father had often uttered a phrase in these moments:Insha’Allah.

If God wills.

She drew me away from my thoughts as her arms curled around my waist and she hugged me tightly, so tightly that my new mark twinged with delightful agony at the pressure. I didn’t bother wincing, didn’t do anything other than rejoice because she’d made me hers.

At long last.

I hadn’t been alone since I’d become Pack with Stefan, Nestor, and Dre, but now? I’d never be alone ever again. She was there. Filling up my empty places, shining a light on all the shadows in my soul, and I’d spend the rest of my life thanking her for Choosing me.

For making me hers.

EIGHTEEN

SAMUEL

“When’s the boat arriving?”

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