Page 24 of Fated In Forever
That somehow, Blake and Riordan were in onthe secret.
Hell, everyone in this room knew more than I did, which was infuriating.
I wanted to demand answers, to shake the truth from them until everything lay exposed between us. But looking at Malachi—at the way he stayed so carefully still, the way his hands trembled just slightly at his sides, the way his pupils overran the amber in his eyes—I realized that keeping this secret was costing him dearly.
“If using my blood will save you,” I said finally, my voice stronger than I felt, “then we'll go back to the pool, and we'll fix this once and for all.”
Relief flickered across Malachi’s features, followed immediately by something that looked suspiciously like guilt.
Evangeline, he began, stepping toward me.
No, I said firmly, holding up a hand to stop him.Don’t tellme lies that will only make everything worse. I’ve agreed to go to France, even though that room is buried beneath an entire mountain of rock. I’ve agreed to help you, even when it’s obvious you still don’t trust me. But when this is over, when the curse is broken, when Ravok is dead, I want the whole truth.
About everything.
He nodded, but the haunted look in his eyes told me that I’d never get what I was asking.
“Fine then.” I grit my teeth and slipped my hand in my pocket, curled my fingers around the book. “Just remember what I have in my pocket. If you want your precious book back, the only way you’ll get it is by telling me your secrets, and I don’t have a single qualm about burning this thing to ashes, because while it means something to you, it meansnothingto me.”
While we waitedfor Brendan to make arrangements, I asked Riordan to get word to Angel—my sister had to be worried, and I certainly hadn’t expected to end up in Ireland when we’d left Crimson House less than a day ago.
Now that we were heading back to France…there was no telling what might happen.
What had happened there was terrible, but dread slithered through my veins, my magic churning like a wild river as I wondered what might happen when we returned, given the rift and the magic and the collapsed tunnels.
I doubted my sister would care much about my fate—she did have Bex, after all—but I didn’t wanther to worry, because stress was bad for the baby. Rohr kissed my cheek and promised me he would.
Aisling brought in food, but I couldn’t eat, not with my nerves on edge, my gaze constantly wandering back to Malachi, hunched in the corner by the fireplace. Every time I looked at him, his eyes darted away, yet every time I was drawn into a conversation, I felt the weight of that consuming gaze land on me once more.
Secrets.
All these goddamned secrets, so many little evasions, I wanted to scream. I wanted to demand answers, implore him to simply tell me the truth, for once. But…he wouldn’t. Not with his sense of misplaced nobility and his fear of hurting me, and somehow,somehow—I knew he would be the one to pay the price.
And France…something terrible was waiting for us in France, something I wasn’t seeing, and my panic ramped up every hour, as I imagined a thousand horrific possibilities waiting there.
Finally, I took Blake’s hand and tugged him away from the table. “I need to get out of here. Let’s find somewhere to talk.”
After navigating the bewildering number of rooms off the maze of hallways, we found an empty room—a sitting room—in sedate, muted colors, with a big vase of lilies that were pretty, even if the sweet scent was overpowering.
“Let me hold you,” Blake murmured, pulling me against him. Something sharp and urgent rushed through me before wrapping around my chest and squeezing. I felt like we were all rushing toward the precipice, and there was nothing I could do to stop us from plummeting over the edge.
“Okay,” Blake’s lips moved against my ear. “Everythingwill be okay,” he said again, like he was trying to convince himself and I felt every shuddering breath, every sigh at the end of his exhales, every finger digging into my back as he gripped me like he’d never let me go.
“I’m fine,” I pulled back to get a closer look at his face. “You’re the one who’s bleeding. The one who refused to see a healer,” I reminded him, with a touch of righteous heat.
“You’re the one who got whisked away by an eight-foot monster.” He countered, like this was some kind of competition.
“Well, you are keeping secrets from me and it’s pissing me off, so there.” I snapped, because thiswasa competition. One I was damn well going to win.
“Evie, I’m not keeping anything from you. Malachi simply asked Riordan and I to watch over you. In case this ritual doesn’t work, or something goes wrong.”
“It’s going to work.” I relaxed, leaning into my mate, letting his hands drift over my body, checking, rechecking, like he always did. And when his lips found my throat, I closed my eyes, barely stopping my contented sigh from slipping out.
Maybe not stopping my sigh at all, from the way his fangs punched out and scraped down along my vein, Blake cradling my head in one big palm, the other braced against the small of my back, pinning me against him. This was…why did this feel so good?
Like all I could think about was the warm, wet swipe of his tongue, the way he dug his fangs in, hard enough to dent my skin, but not break through, the firm, commanding way he held me, how heated my blood was, and…he went still, his hands gripping my arms
“What are these, Evangeline?” He breathed, warmth washing over my throat where his lips had been a secondago. He slowly dragged his fingers over the same spot, like he’d found something…wrong, and whatever peace I’d been feeling fractured apart.
