Page 121 of Claimed By Fangs and Darkness
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded. “About Aster writing to you?”
Evie blinked. Her past trauma made her sensitive to criticism and displeasure from authority figures. But Iwasdispleased. I softened myself the best I could, and our shadows grew tangled at our feet.
I tasted her fear through the bond. Her guilt. Her drive to make things right again.
“It was just a polite follow-up,” she said. “And you were already hurting. I don’t like to cause you pain or… anger.”
I cursed, running a hand through my hair. “Angel, I am not angry atyou. Please understand that.”
She analyzed my features, which were likely doing little to prove my point.
“I’m doing everything I can to give you your freedom,” I said. “Even if it’s fucking killing me to put you into such a dangerous position, unable to fight by your side. But keeping things from me isn’t helping. It would hurt me far more to think you’re hiding the truth, even if you think you’re protecting me.”
Her lower lip wobbled. She took a steadying breath. “What if someone hurts me in some way? What if the born cross a boundary before I’ve killed Juliette? Would you still allow me to fight?”
Power rattled against my bones. Deep, icy hatred fought to bleed from my pores. A muscle in my jaw feathered. I couldn’t look at Evie anymore—I closed my eyes instead.
“If the born break their word and hurt you, I will declare war myself,” I said.
There were three long beats of silence.
“Even if it ruins the plan you’ve been building for a century?”
I gripped her waist and tugged. Evie exhaled shakily. I needed to know she was still within reach, that I hadn’t lost her.
“I’ve always accepted that the born may throw a wrench into every aspect of my plan,” I said. “War is never perfect; war is war.”
Evie was silent. And I could feel it through the shadows: her hesitation, her worry, her fear for mortals caught in the crossfire.
I was being split in two. The side of me who was married to cosmic justice, devoted to the clan and Ravenia’s mortals was at odds with the part of me whose highest purpose was to protect Evie and the light of her beautiful soul.
“Wearefighting side by side,” Evie said. “Always.”
When I opened my eyes, she was thumbing her collar. The heart that bled for her skipped a beat. The deep, enduring intimacy of a simple piece of jewelry couldn’t be understood by just anyone. But Evie understood. She’d always seen me as reverently as I’d seen her.
“You’re mine to protect and cherish, do you remember that, sweet girl?” I asked, my throat tight with intensity.
“I want to protect you too,” Evie said. “And our family.”
I didn’t want to nod, but I did it anyway. “I know you do. My love isn’t sane. Never has been. I’m not a holy man, angel. I’m your jealous, vengeful God. You have your freedom, and I have mine.”
In other words, I made no promises on what would happen if the born laid a hand on her. That was who I was, and Evie knew it. I wouldn’t apologize for killing the human boy, and I sure as fuck wouldn’t apologize for storming Conrad’s tasteless estate and ripping each vampire apart, skin from bone.
Evie sighed. “I understand. I love you, Kylo.”
“I love you too, my innocent, harmless little flower petal who wouldn’t decapitate a fly,” I teased. My chest was still tight, my anger a poison rotting me from within.
But I teased Evie if only to see that adorable glare and half-smile.
She melted into my chest, and as I held her, I cursed the world for putting her in a position to be hurt again.
If Evie thought my handling of her ex was extreme, she had no idea what I was truly capable of.
I shuddered at her soft touch against my back, the love that poured from her palms. I could see so clearly the future we deserved. Evie’s cabin in the woods, travel and adventure, a sprawling garden and shop for her to sell witchy goods. Her head in my lap as I read her philosophy, laughing at her witty, scathing criticisms of nihilism.
“I see it too,” Evie whispered.
I held her tighter.
