Page 37 of Fated In Ruin
“He killed my cousin. True, they’re all a bunch of assholes, but…that was Alistair’s son. My uncle is a monster, but he didn’t even flinch.”
Malachi’s gaze met mine. “There is nothing human left of your uncles, or your father, or anyone else Ravok has corrupted. And if he gets ahold of you,” his entire body shuddered, his grip tightening down until his knuckles whitened, “you will end up the same. You would become his slave in every sense of the word, a total loss of free will, thought and purpose.”
Something strange washed over me then, a whisper of heated breath over my skin and every hair on my body rose, pure desire sweeping through me, even though this wasdefinitely not the time. I narrowed my eyes at Malachi and took my usual seat on the couch.
“So he didn’t turn them into vampires, like Riordan turned me? They’re…thralls?”
“Yes. Riordan gifted you over a portion of his power, during an equitable exchange of blood between you, which grants you both certain rights, such as enhanced strength, speed, and the ability to speak mind to mind?” I nodded, that strange, warm sensation turning my insides to warm, molten honey.
That wasn’t…right.
“Turning them into thralls was simply the completion of the process they started when they served Tyrell. They’d been drinking his blood for centuries, Ravok simply took away their free will and bound them to him through blind obedience. They will die for him, or sacrifice a child. Either way, they are his to command.”
“Ravok turned you,” I pointed out, my hips shifting on the couch as I went damp between my thighs forno reason whatsoever. I studied Malachi’s face for signs of guilt, because sure as shit, he was doing this.
“He didn’t turn you into a thrall.”
“That was at the beginning of time, Evangeline.” His tone was almost gentle. “Thralls did not yet exist, as Caine had not yet learned how to twist his power to darker means. But the way we were turned—by force, against our will, then used as slaves—was still an abuse of power, and at its core, evil.”
“That had to be terrible,” I murmured, pressing my hand to my fevered forehead. “No wonder you wanted him dead.”
Riordan had turned me to save my life, and had I been alive, he would have asked my consent. It took a real asshole to march across ancient Europe and forcibly change innocents, leaving starving vampires in his wake.
“As far as your magic, you need to understand something, Evangeline.” Malachi’s low voice carried unmistakable weight. “Bloodmoon magic isn’t just dark magic—it’s something far, far greater.”
I held my breath as he continued.
“At its core, this is necromancy. The power to command death itself, to rend the veil between life and what lies beyond. Those who wield dark magic can summon horrors from the void, rot flesh with a mere thought, or cloak themselves in shadows so deep that even light recoils.”
A chill slid down my spine, extinguishing every bit of desire. “That kind of magic—shouldn’t exist.”
Malachi’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “And yet, it does. At its most potent, Bloodmoon magic can open doors to realms that should never be walked by mortals.” His voice grew quieter, but the weight of his words only deepened. “But power like that always has a cost. This magic doesn’t just take—it devours. The stronger the spell, the more it feeds.”
I swallowed, my throat tight. “Feeds on what?”
His eyes met mine, unblinking. “On the caster. Their mind, their soul—until there’s nothing left but hunger.”
Like what happened—almost happened—to Riordan, when Ravok had him in his grasp.
The sunlight died away when a cloud passed by, throwing jagged shadows across the floor. The weight of Malachi’s grim warning pressed against my chest, stealing away my breath. I had seen dark magic before, but what I possessed—was something far more evil.
Something cruel.
Another wave of carnal heat washed through me, and I exhaled shakily, studying a definitely-not-guilty-looking Malachi. In fact, it seemed like his mind was somewhere else entirely.
Maybe I was getting sick? Or…had I become corrupted by my own magic?Every muscle clenched around another flush of heat, so intense I doubled over, air whooshing out of my lungs.
“Vicious, what’s wrong?” Malachi’s hands were on me, touching my face, my arms, my back, and God, his touch just ramped my desire higher, every brush of his fingers leaving a trail of searing heat on my skin.
“I’m just…are youdoingsomething to me?” I hissed, glaring up at him through a haze of lust, pleasure streaking through me in unstoppable waves.
His nostrils flared before he stepped away, retreating until he was by the piano. “I’m sorry, I forgot myself, I’ll…” His cheeks were bright pink, almost embarrassed, and just like that, desire drained from my body, like he’d pulled the plug and every bit of burning heat swirled away.
“Just when I think I can trust you,” I growled. “What did you do to me?”
“I didn’tdoanything,” he murmured, staring out the window, two spots of color on his face. “Iforgotto do something. But you won’t feel anything like that again.” He straightened his spine. “Now where were we? Your magic, I believe?”
“What just happened?” I demanded, “I felt like I was about to…” Nowmyface heated, a flush creeping up my throat as I looked anywhere except at Malachi Draven.
