Page 12 of Rising Darkness

I hissed a cry as he broke the skin, slicing a clean line above my wrist. Tye could crush diamonds from how tight he gritted his teeth, and his hand shook as he sliced another line. Then another. Blood welled from the wounds, dripping down my arm into the trough. Tiny rivers ran down the channels to collect in the glass I knew was beneath me.

Tye moved to my other arm. I fisted my hands, and tears leaked past my lashes as he sliced again and again.

“I’m sorry, love,” he grunted. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he murmured repeatedly.

Through the agony, the realization that the slashes could have been vertical, that he could have dug the blade deeper, warmed me. In his own twisted way, he took care of me, even as he inflicted pain.

Dots coalesced at the edges of my vision as my blood spilled, and dizziness swamped me.

“Yes,” Elan crooned, lighting up as the vessel filled with my crimson life force.

Done carving me, Tye dropped the dagger and shuddered out his exhale. The corded lines of his neck delineated and he screamed his rage into the room as the hold over him shattered with its completion.

“You have enough.” He stalked to the table and healed the first wound his fingers grazed.

“Stop,” his father ordered, but Tye ignored him until Elan growled at the vampire, who’d been distracted with his blood bag reward, to issue the command instead.

Tye roared. If looks could kill, he’d have his father pulverized at his feet. Black magick swirled around Tye’s hands, and his muscles shook. He wanted to lash out at his father, but something held him back. Orsomeone.

Was Tye compelled not to hurt his father? Or the strange vampire? I had so many questions, but it made sense. Otherwise, I had faith that he would have decimated them.

“You’re not allowed to kill her,” Tye reminded his father.

“I’m not.” Elan clasped Tye’s shoulder on his way past. “You did that for me.”

“I’m going tokillyou.” Tye’s lethal promise made his father chuckle.

“Go ahead and try, boy. You know you won’t succeed. Your chance of freedom dies with yourmate,” he spat. Releasing his son, he rounded the table, tracing his fingers over my legs and up my outer thigh. “It’s a shame, really. She’s a beauty, just like her mother used to be. A waste of a good pair of tits.”

The veins in Tye’s forearms threatened to burst. “Touch her again and I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Elan dipped low to study the vessel, and Tye snarled. “You can’t even move.” The river of blood had slowed to a trickle, and the rise and fall of my chest turned glacial. “You bleed so prettily, darling.”

Ignoring his son, he patted my leg. Elan’s praise turned my empty stomach. Acid crawled up my throat, and I struggled to swallow it. “Fuck. Off.” I bit out with the rest of my strength, but the airy quality made it sound fragile, the threat hollow.

I rolled my head and locked my attention on Tye. If I was going to die, Elan would not be the last thing I saw.

“Stay with me,” he pleaded. “Hold on a little longer.”

Elan scooped up the glass vessel and held it up. “Just look at it,” he said greedily. Dipping his fingers into the blood, he turned his back on us and began painting symbols on the wall overtop of the serial killer paraphernalia.

The air shifted, and, task complete, the hold on Tye broke. He exhaled sharply and flew to my side. Healing magick poured into my wounds, knitting my veins back together and sealing my skin. Shifting his nails to claws, Tye swiped at my bindings and dragged me off the table and into his arms.

I should despise him for what he’d done. For being unable to fight back. For whatever role he’d taken in all the shit that happened to me, my mates, and my father up until this point. But all I wanted to do was throw my arms around his neck, bury myself in his chest, block out the world, and celebrate that we were still alive. Even without the mate bonds, I recognized him as my mine. The draw between us was strong.

Too weak to do anything but close my eyes, I lulled against his cool skin.

“I’m going to get you out of here, Lorn. That’s a promise.”

“Tired,” I mumbled.

“Shh,” he implored. “Don’t talk. Save your strength.” Tye strode toward the door. “We’ve got to get past these wards.”

“Yes,” Elan uttered. The room shook, and something deep inside me tugged. The floor trembled, the walls cracked. Tye spun, and I saw Elan rip open his shirt, sending buttons flying, to paint a corresponding symbol on his chest.

Darkness shivered through the room. I felt its inky grip on me pulling me under.

My lungs screamed with my sharp inhale.

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