Page 116 of Samhain Savior
And so, like the tide followed the moon, I rose to meet her.
Her power shimmered beneath her skin like starlight, an ethereal glow that called to me. And for the first time, my shadows didn't flee from her light—they reveled in it. Joyful, they curled around her brilliance as though it were a hearthfire in winter, drinking in the warmth, tasting the radiance. I could feel their exultation echoing through my own bones, a fierce ache, a need I had no words for. Humming with delight, they celebrated—no longer wary, no longer defensive, but entranced, as though they had at last found the sun they had been born to orbit. Her glowing magic danced across her veins, painting her pulse in silver, and I was undone by the beauty of it, by the way her light did not banish me but welcomed me home.
Every spark was a whispered promise of belonging, of ruin, of salvation, and I—creature of darkness that I was—wanted nothing more than to drown in her radiance until I was remade.
“Archer,” she breathed, bringing my hand to her chest, resting it on my brand, then up, settling my grip lightly around her throat. “You and I are one. Life and death. Darkness and light. Two halves that make a whole.”
The collar—the item of magic I had placed around her neck as a punishment but that had become so much more—rippled, and I could feel its joy at the joining of our magics. It was as though my magic knew better than I did what was needed and for the first time in my long life, I stopped trying to control it—control everything—and just…let go.
“Let me in, Archer. Welcome me inside the way that I have welcomed you.”
It felt as though my soul was on fire, like lightning lived within my heart. I could feel her there, my own power making room for hers as our magics combined, and I knew then that this was what I had been waiting for my entire long and lonely life.
Delilah was the key to my very soul.
I stared, open-mouthed, as our powers rolled around the alcove, filling it with our newly joined magic. The smallspace had become a kaleidoscope of darkness and light, a beautiful dichotomy that played out before my very eyes. As Delilah’s pace increased, her body clenching around me, and her shout of ecstasy the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. There was no way I could hold back my own release, the power of our joining too much to possibly resist, and I clutched her to me with a reverence that was more than I had ever thought myself capable of, but far less than the precious creature that was my mate deserved.
Afterward, we lay together, hot and sticky and so incredibly happy that I couldn’t possibly imagine ever wanting to leave that space.
The ballroom still throbbed with bass, each beat shaking the air like a living thing. Idly stroking my fingers over Delilah’s hip, I stared through the gauzy curtains as the party raged on beyond our quiet bubble. Strobe lights flashed crimson and violet across the vaulted ceiling, reflecting off gilded mirrors and chandeliers dripping with golden candlelight. The crowd of vampires writhed on the dance floor in a blur of limbs and fangs, their movements sharp, predatory, ecstatic—half dance, half feeding frenzy.
Sweat, perfume, and the metallic tang of blood mingled in the air, thick enough to taste. Couples swayed against the marble columns, mouths locked, their hands smeared red as they painted it across each other’s skin. Laughterburst here and there, jagged and manic, quickly swallowed by the music.
A violin shrieked over the speakers, the sound warped by the DJ into something feral, something that made the crowd throw their arms up as if worshiping it. My shadows strained at the edges of me, eager, restless, matching the madness in the room.
It was chaos dressed up as celebration—until the first scream cut through it all.
“Archer?” Delilah questioned, lifting her head from where I’d cradled her against my chest.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted, reluctantly moving her to the side so that I could at least button my pants.
My shirt was hopeless, as there were no buttons remaining after Delilah had destroyed it, so I merely tossed it aside, sliding the heavy jacket on with nothing underneath.
Another scream, this time closer, and I made for the curtain, planning to slide it aside and investigate, when the pouch at Delilah’s hip began to thrash.
Pandora.
I’d forgotten the little familiar was in there, and wondered if she’d been annoyed at her unwilling participation in our…activities.
But if she was upset, it wasn’t because she’d been bounced along in her pouch while Delilah and I had claimed each other.
No, her behavior was something else all together, and Delilah scrambled to open the drawstring bag and see what was bothering her. Pulling out the shaking hedgehog, Delilah cooed quietly to her, holding her close, but after a second, her gaze snapped up to mine, the fear in her eyes quite clear.
“Archer! There’s—”
But she didn’t need to tell me. The sounds coming from outside the mansion were quite clear now. Snarling and snapping, more screams, all of it telling me exactly what was going on.
“Hell hounds,” I swore, my heart pounding as a wicked howl tore through the night. “I think our time is up.”
Chapter fifty-five
Delilah
“Stay here,” Archer barked, because of course he did.
At my scowl he sighed, then held out his hand.
“Fine,” he agreed reluctantly, raising his voice to be heard over the still-thumping music. “But stay by my side and do as I say.”
