Page 30 of Fated In Forever
“We’llwatch his back,” I muttered, elbowing Blake in the ribs. “Like always.”
“This is a fucking bad idea.” Finn muttered, the tension between them crackling before he shook his head, defeated. “Fine, but don’t blame me when things go to shit. I hope you can handle yourself.”
“Don’t fucking worry about me handling myself,” Riordan’s entire body was tense and ready, a faint, fiery glow surrounding him like an aura.
I totally agreed with Finn. This was a bad idea. I didn’t want to go back to France, but it made sense—the only place we could reverse Malachi’s transformation was in that pool. I ran my fingers down my arm, swore those veins pulsed in response.
God, what if I was changing not because of the rift, but because of the ritual?
What if Malachi was still transforming, too, in ways not visible to the eye?I glanced over my shoulder, and he was staring right at me.
“You worry about yourself, commander,” Rohr said, chin tipped up, that wickedly arrogant fuck-you smile sending a delicious shiver straight through me. And that’s when I realized…Riordanis not only my lover, he is not just my friend…he is my king. Somewhere along the line, Riordan Graves had becomemyking.
My throat tightened. Ibelongedsomewhere.
Belonged to something huge and important and life changing in a way that felt bigger than myself. Belonged, not to a fucked-up family of cruel, self-serving slayers, but to a clan of formerly-mortal-enemies, and belonging feltgood.
Once again, my eyes strayed to the shadowy edge of thehall, beneath one of the towering stained-glass windows, where Malachi crouched like some ancient gargoyle left behind by an older, darker world. The light slid over the sharp ridges of his monstrous form—curved talons, skin scorched in fire. His amber eyes glowed faintly, tracking every word, every movement. Still, he remained alone, as if none of this had anything to do with him.
Malachi?
No answer.
Please don’t shut down. Just let me know you're still with me.
Nothing. Not a flicker of acknowledgment. Like a door slammed closed in my mind.
I swallowed, hard. None of this was fair, none of this was what we wanted, but heading back to the pool, to that hideous room, might give him back his humanity. But his silence hurt, and I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t talk to me.
Finn’s voice pulled me back. “We leave in two hours. Prepare yourselves. Rest if you can.”
He didn’t saygood luck.
As the others began to file out, I remained behind. I looked to Malachi again, and the monster looked back.
But for the first time, the male I knew—the one I loved—was nowhere to be seen.
13
EVANGELINE
“Hey,” Ash stopped me in the hall, a wry, tentative smile on her face. “So I know you just ate, but we have this ridiculous tradition here called tea, and I wondered if you might like to join me?”
“I’ve heard of tea. I used to watch BBC all the time.”
Ash winked. “Somehow, I didn’t picture you as the BBC type. Since it’s not raining for once, I thought we could sit outside. Some girl talk might do us both good after all that testosterone.” She motioned me to follow, and we wound through the lush gardens, ending up at a table set up beneath an enormous Hawthorne tree, filled with all the deliciousness I’d expect from an authentic, afternoon tea at an ancient Irish castle.
An assortment of tea in pretty floral teapots, scones with berries, clotted cream and the yellowist butter I’d ever seen, adorable little sandwiches cut into triangles. Even the white, embroidered tablecloth was expensive, like something out of a movie.
“My sister and I didn’t have much to do when we were growing up.” I explained, reaching for a scone, mimicking Aisling as she piled cream on top of hers. “We had to stay indoors, and we didn’t have friends. Only each other. Somehow, I started watching British historical dramas and then Ikept watching them.” I pointed my butter knife at the castle. “This place isn’t anything like what I thought it would be.”
“I feel you. I was an only child, so no friends for me, either.” She leaned closer. “What did you think it would be like?”
“Cold and dismal.” I studied the lichens on the stones, trying to imagine the sheer age of this place. “Instead, it’s lived in. Loved. The library is…amazing. And these gardens…we try to emulate this kind of beauty in the states, but we can’t quite pull it off. I expect the heat has something to do with it.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Her smile disappeared as her lips thinned out. “So. My sire tells me you are a Silverwood. From the legendary family of slayers. I’m somewhat of a historian, and there aren’t any female Silverwoods. None that we knew of.”
My heart might have stopped beating for a moment, as I carefully set down my scone.
