Page 34 of Fated In Ruin
Not a surprise. Blake was always tougher than he looked. We’d fought side by side too many times before and I knew his every move, just like he knew mine.
But this wasn’t a sparring match. This wasn’t practice.
This was weeks of love, regret, and rage boiling over.
“Sheneededus. If you had backed me up, she would have come home, I know she would have.” Blake’s voice cracked as he came at me again, and this time, I didn’t block, didn’t evade. This blow slammed deep into my stomach, nearly making me vomit.
I straightened up, bile burning my throat. Blake pulled back his elbow and hit me again, his knuckles cracking as they collided with my cheek, my teeth rattling from the blow.
“I’m not fighting you, Blake. Not today, and not over Evie.” I coughed, tasted blood. “So go ahead, pound me into dogmeat, if that makes you feel better.” I canted my head, practically daring him to strike again.
“Fuck you and your goddamn nobility, Riordan. In fact, fuck you altogether.”
This next blow was vicious, catching my chin and snapping my head back. If I was human, I’d be dead.
I staggered, but he caught my shirt and pulled me in close, our foreheads nearly colliding. His eyes were lined with tears, every ragged breath edged with heartbreak. “I love her and I can’t save her.I can’t fucking save her, Rohr. I’m fucking falling apart.”
I clasped the back of his head. “I know. But you have to find a way to get through this. If we drag her back before she’s ready to come home, Blake, she’ll never forgive us. She’ll resent us for taking away her choices and deep down, you know it too.”
“Goddamn you.” He shoved me away. “Don’t tell me what my own mate wants, when the bond is telling me she shouldn’t be alone.”
“Right now, you’re too deep into your emotions to think logically.” I folded my arms over my chest, my voice coming out hoarse, “I loved her enough to let her choose. You just wanted to cage her.”
Blake’s hands clenched at his sides. His chest heaved. “Well, I was right, because now she’s out there alone. Anything could be happening to her right now. She could be hurt. She could be…”
I didn’t answer. Because he was right.
Silence stretched between us, our combined guilt thick and inescapable. Blake wiped his mouth, probably biting back more words he wanted to hurl at me. My face burned from the sting of his punches, my bruised ribs throbbed, but none of that compared to the hollowness carving out a place inside my chest. Without another word, Blake walked away.
And I let him.
Because deep down, we both knew—this fight wasn’t about us.
It was about her.
And even if we didn’t lose Evangeline over this, our friendship might not survive.
16
EVANGELINE
“You’re sure about this?” Malachi murmured, casting me a sideways glance that wasn’t exactly filled with confidence.
“If I wasn’t, we wouldn’t have come all this way.” I gave him another once over. Honestly, he looked like shit. So did I, but he’d taken one look at my clothing, waved his hand, and now I was at least blood-free.
He looked like he’d been run through a meat grinder.
“After White Chapel burned to the ground, this is their second largest base of operations. If they’re hiding Ravok, this place is fortified and secure, and makes logistical sense.”
After he’d had some time to recover from almost dying, the moment Malachi could dematerialize, we’d tracked Ravok and—not surprisingly—ended up in Sleepy Hollow, New York.
The Silverwood Compound loomed on a slight rise above us, pale sandstone walls half-hidden behind a stacked stone wall that had stood for centuries. The humid morning air was heavy with the weight of history, as if the very ground whispered forgotten secrets.
Which was no surprise, given Canterbury Church had once stood on this site, the first sanctuary in the New World, and though its ancient bones were long buried beneath Silverwood’s foundation, the land still hummed with hallowed energy, which was going to be a problem.
As a vampire, I felt that cosmic vibration to my bones, like some sort of holy warning signal—do not set foot on this dirt, or you’ll be incinerated like the heathens you are.
Malachi crouched beside me, silent as the wind through the trees. He was quieter than usual, not a single smart-ass comment, his breathing a little too shallow, hands trembling slightly. His magic was slowly refilling and though he refused to admit he was still weak, I sensed the strain rolling off him like static electricity.
