Page 53 of Bound in Blood

“It is late. We are all tired. Ophelia is waiting for you. We all need to rest whilst we can. Anikêtos and Elpis will stand guard.”

I glance over his shoulder at the large bed and my girl in it, smile brighter than the sun while she waits for us. He said Ophelia is waiting—does that mean he’s not joining us?

“If you think I am spending even a minute away from her or any of you this night, you are very much mistaken.” His low growl sends a shiver down my spine.

“Fuck,” Xavier murmurs, his desire spiking. I have never held such feelings for our sire; he has always been too much of a father figure for me or Malachi to see him that way. But Xavier’s relationship with him has been different from the start, and I know how much it costs him to bury those feelings every single day.

I slide my arm around his waist and give his hip a reassuring squeeze. Then we all pull off our clothes and climb into bed with Ophelia. Given that he’s been without her for nearly a month, I’m not surprised when Alexandros takes one of the spaces next to her. Malachi lies on her other side with Xavier and me beside him, all of us ensuring we have a hand on our girl.

She asks at least two dozen questions about our trip here on Elpis. When she tells us that Anikêtos was much warmer and cuddlier than she imagined, Alexandros almost chokes on his laughter.

It has been the longest of days. The longest of months. I never slept well at Giorgios’s house. Always on alert. With all of us in one place—and two dragons outside—I feel safe for the first time since before we left Montridge. Sleep threatens to pull me under the weight of its heavy blanket.

“We should rest now.” Alexandros’s commanding voice has us all eager to obey. I rest my hand on Ophelia’s hip, and Kai’s goes next to mine, Xavier’s on the other side, with the professor’s on top of them all. And that is how we fall asleep—all of us touching and finally feeling whole again.

Chapter

Twenty-Three

ALEXANDROS

Aface with dark, sunken eyeholes and black fangs dripping with blood looms over me, rousing me from a fitful sleep. Ophelia! I reach for her in the dark and find her gone. They are all gone. The face gets closer. Lucian? Giorgios? I would take its head, but bone-deep fear paralyzes me.

Warm fingertips skate over the back of my hand, and my eyes fly open. I find the room cloaked in darkness, the sleeping form of Ophelia still curled into my side, Malachi, Axl, and Xavier beside her. It is Xavier’s fingers trailing over the back of my hand, and I make no move to stop him. His steady breathing tells me he is still asleep. Having him seek my touch when he is at his most vulnerable makes warmth bloom in my chest.

Their proximity and their steady heartbeats are enough to chase away the remnants of the nightmare that has plagued what little fitful sleep I managed in captivity. I cannot help but wonder what they endured whilst I was locked in my silver cage, unable to reach out to them, to comfort them, to protect them.

The sting of Giorgios’s betrayal has only grown sharper since the day he lured me to Corinth under the pretense of finding my son. And the questions raised by his actions have only grownin number and difficulty since that time too. How was Giorgios able to mask his intentions from me? Whilst it is true that I have always afforded him a measure of privacy for the sole virtue of him being my brother, I still should have been able to detect some deceit in his deeds. What is clear is that his powers must be far greater than I ever knew. He has kept the true extent of his mind’s abilities to himself for all these years.

How was he able to lure Nazeel Danraath, a trusted healer of the Order and someone I formerly had no quarrel with, to aid him in his plan? Why did he not simply kill me when I was at his mercy? Instead, he locked me in a cage. Why did he take Ophelia and my boys? And what is his endgame in all of this? He spoke of my downfall being a defining moment in our history. Does he believe himself to be on the right side of that line in the sand?

Ophelia stirs beside me. Her blood hums beneath her skin, and my fangs protract. How much I long to sink them into her tender flesh and sip the sweet ambrosia of her blood. Or perhaps I could wake her by sinking inside her tight, wet heat and allow the warmth of her pussy to drive away the questions plaguing me.

Her pink lips part, and she lets out a little whimper that does nothing to calm the ache building in my shaft. But as satisfying as it would be to take her, she needs to rest. And I need answers to something. Anything.

I close my eyes and rest my lips on the top of her head. In place of the usual candy scent that coats her hair is a spicy ginger aroma, and I despise that even the simplest change in her routine was forced upon her by my brother.

I grant myself entry into her mind instead of her body and comb her memories of the last few weeks. This is not an invasion of her privacy. She belongs to me, and there is nothing I could discover about her that would ever change that. I steel myself for what I might find. Whilst I am certain he has not bitten or forcedhimself upon her, I am wary of what other terrors he must have inflicted to have her seek the assistance of Anikêtos, and even more so, what made the dragon agree.

I go back to the day our bond was severed and feel her pain as though it is my own. It squeezes a tear from the corner of my eye, and I move on quickly, unable to endure it for a second time. I find Giorgios telling them of my death at the hands of Lucian, Giorgios persuading them to go to his fortress, imprisoning them, poisoning her with blue poppy to make my boys sick. I feel their despair. Their anguish. Their desperation. Their loyalty to me. Their love.

Each new memory adds yet more fuel to the boiling inferno of rage inside me. But there is nothing that can prepare me for what comes next: her sheer terror at discovering the archaic ritual for severing the bond between fated mates. Is that what Giorgios planned? From her memories, she never confronted him to deny or confirm it, but she believed that was his intention, which is enough to have white-hot, blinding rage searing itself into every cell of my body, an anger so visceral it etches itself onto my soul. That he would take her from me. Force himself upon her. Fill her with his treacherous seed. My hand curls into a fist in her hair. She whimpers, causing me to loosen my grip. I grind my teeth together so ferociously, it is a small wonder they do not turn to dust in my mouth.

Such is my anger and sense of betrayal, I am of a mind to go outside and jump on Anikêtos’s back right now so we can track down my treacherous snake of a brother. So I can tear out his throat and feed him his own tongue before ripping off his head.

But… I cannot leave them when they have only just found me again. My heart and soul would not survive. I cannot summon the sheer strength of will it would take to tear myself from them. Not now.

Alexandros? My son? Is that truly you?I close my eyes and curse my own stupidity. Using so much concentration to access Ophelia’s mind undoubtedly lowered my defenses enough that my father was able to feel my presence. Although our bond was also severed during the ritual Giorgios and Nazeel performed, without my walls in place, his mind has found mine. Which must mean he was searching for me.

Yes, it is me.

But I felt your passing. Giorgios told me?—

Anger again flares hot in my chest once.It appears the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated, Father.

Son.He says only the one word, but it conveys a whole depth of emotion I have not felt from him in centuries. If I did not know better, I would say he is relieved by the discovery that I am alive. And perhaps he is. I have always fulfilled my family duties to House Drakos without complaint.Why did Giorgios lie to me?Anger bleeds into his tone now.He told me Lucian was alive. That he had taken your head. Why, Alexandros? Did you and he willingly deceive me? Is this what you have been hiding from me?

Giorgios deceived us both.

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