Page 75 of Fated In Forever
“Hmm.” Nikolai stepped further into the room, seemingly unbothered by the obvious signs of me, failing to control my magic. “And how long do you plan to live as a hermit? Forever?”
I gestured helplessly at the ridiculous chiming obsidian curtains, the blood-red linens, which were actually kind of pretty. “Look around you, Nikolai. Everything I touch turns dark. I can't control this, and there’s no way you can teach me to.”
“Because you haven't been focusing.” He moved closer, and I instinctively scooted backward. He raised one pale eyebrow. “Do you think I've lived for two thousand years without encountering dark magic before? You’re hardly an anomaly.”
Blake shifted closer. “Nikolai, if she says she’s not ready?—”
“We’re trying something new today. We won’t keep searching for the source, we’ll deal with this another way.” Nikolai's tone was sharp, but not unkind. He looked at Blake directly. “Why don’t you come along, you might find this interesting.”
Anytime a vampire described something asinteresting,usually didn’t bode well for me, but they were both right. Sitting here and watching everything transform into some version of the Underworld was doing me no favors.
We ended up in the training room, where straw dummies lined one wall like good little soldiers and the smell of blood and bleach was far too thick for my liking. Nikolai motioned me closer, and by the time I reached his side, I was a tangle of confusion.
Mostly because I couldn’t understand why he was bothering.
Or what he was planning to do.
“From what I’ve seen, the magic of the Underworld responds to emotion.” He explained gently, grasping my arms and positioning me so I was facing him, barely a foot away. “Right now, yours are chaotic—fear, guilt, desperation. Those emotions feed the darkness, give this power life, make it spread.”
“I can't help being afraid,” I whispered, not even wanting to address the guilt part, because leaving Malachi behind would take me years to come to grips with, if ever. I glancedto Blake, watching us closely, but with more curiosity than jealousy.
“No, but you can learn to channel your emotions. And you need to learn you are not the danger you think you are.” He held out his hand, palm up. “Touch me.”
“Nikolai, no?—”
“Trust me.”
I looked past him to my mate, who gave me a small nod of encouragement, and slowly, carefully, I reached out and placed my fingertip against Nikolai's palm.Oh God, he’s going to turn to stone and Aisling is going to kill me and…
Nothing happened.
I stared at the point of contact, waiting for his skin to darken or turn blood-red orsomething, but it remained exactly the same—pale and smooth, although I swore, right before I drew my finger back, there was a shimmer of iridescent blue.
I poked him again. And again, harder this time.
“Ow,” he curled his hand back, rubbing his palm on his slacks. “That hurt.”
“How?” I breathed.
“I’m very old,” he said simply. “Most magic has no effect on me.”
“So out of everything in this castle, I don’t have to worry about turning you into a hunk of black stone.”
“You said Malachi broke your bond. How do you know?”
“I said the magic exacted a price and that price was our bond.” I sank my teeth into my bottom lip. “It disappeared as I passed through the portal, and I…” I rubbed my aching chest, and my shirt—borrowed from Angel, and saying ‘I Don’t Bite On The First Date’—began turning dark red. “I haven’t felt our connection since.”
“What about your mating bond?’ Nikolai asked, without a shred of subtlety. “Do you still feel that?”
I…” I dipped my head. “No, that is gone as well.” Blake’s sharply withdrawn breath had the floor beneath my feet turning into a sheet of slick, black glass and my shoulders dropped. I seriously had to be the world’s worst mate.
“I…thought it was the shock of coming back, or whatever this darkness is inside of me, but it’s like they just aren’t there anymore. I can’t feel Riordan, either. It’s like our connection is gone. I keep hoping both connections would reappear, but so far…nothing.”
“You should have said something,” Blake’s throat bobbed, his wounded gaze piercing straight through me. I forced myself to meet his eyes, even though I couldn’t stand to see the pain there.
“I…”
“Stop talking andconcentrate.” Nikolai pressed his palm against my upper chest and I looked over at Blake in alarm. Usually this was the point where he’d go full-fated-mate on someone, but he just stared at us intently, like he was waiting for something momentous to happen.
