Page 86 of Cryptic Dreams
“I love you,” my mate pants when his fangs retract, my body sagging against his while he pulls me close.
I nod while fighting to keep my eyes open, my body totally spent and tingling in the best possible way. “I love you, too.”
“Howlovely.”
Well, that did it.
My eyes snap open and land on Atticus, the High Elder standing directly in front of us with a sick smirk on his face. “So touching to see mysonand his mate fully embracing our customs.” He leans toward us as I press back into Wraith, my mate tense, growling and poised for a fight. Atticus narrows his empty eyes on me, his anger barely restrained judging by his posture. “And to think I doubted your bond as truth.” His voice lowers to a notch above menacing, and before either of us can react, his hand shoots out, his fingers digging into my cheeks as he grips my chin and tilts my head. “I don’t know what the two of you are playing at, but it won’t work. It is a…”
So many images slam into my mind, images that start playing at warp speeds and go by so quickly it physically hurts my head, and before I can break free of his hold or make sense of what’s happening, everything goes black.
23
What in the Bloody Hell?
WRAITH
Ipace outside our bedroom with angry steps, my hands clasped behind my back so tightly I may just break a finger. My jaw is set in a hard line, clenched to the point of pain, so much so I have to consciously force myself to loosen it so I don’t bloody well send my fangs through my flesh or bone. They’ve been elongated since my bastard sire interrupted us at the hall, nearly their full length since my gentle breeze essentially fainted on my lap.
And let me tell you,thatwas a sensation I shall most likely never forget.
Endorphins and adrenaline at an all time high after taking my mate in front of the entire Counsel, body still racing with aftershocks, the euphoria of our shared release pulsing through us both, Excalibur still happily seated inside my mate as she seeminglypassed out.
Yes, I do believe that having Zephyr, my fated match in all ways,black out on my cockis a moment in time that will never be erased from our history.
I’d love to say that it was from the orgasm I delivered. The bonded male, the prideful and arrogant Descendant in me wanting to take credit for giving my mate so much pleasure that she had no choice but to succumb to sleep immediately, but I can not.
No, this was not my doing—sad as it may be—and I fear it was in turn something that son of a bitch that shot me out of his balls just over fourteen hundred years ago did instead. Something Atticus managed to do to my gentle breeze the moment he touched her beautiful face.
That alone has rage boiling under my skin, so much hate and anger simmering right under the surface and further fueling thoughts of revenge, and a very bloody end for my sire. But my urgent and intense need to make that bastard pay has to wait because my mate is the priority now—priorityalways—and until I know Zephyr is ok, I must quell the need to avenge her.
“Here,” Declan says as he hands me my pipe, already stuffed and ready to go.
I nod my thanks and force myself to stop pacing long enough to take the damn thing, light it and inhale the tobacco deep into my lungs.
“Anything yet?”
I shake my head. “No word.”
My bodyguard—my truest friend—sighs. “She’s going to be ok.”
“She will, I’ve no doubt.”
“I’m going to check the first floor again, then I’ll wait for Orion,” Declan says as he sighs again in lieu of calling me on my bullshit.
It’s not that I have doubts, not really, but my concern for my mate is so strong that my house is currently sitting at a balmy twelve degrees above zero and each time my booted foot meets carpet, black shadowy flames roll out from underneath it. I know my gentle breeze will be fine, I can feel it through our bond, but between what happened at the Hall of Vampire Affairs and the fact that she’s been unconscious for the better part of three hours, my worry is nearly suffocating.
Thisis the part of mating, one of many really, that I am completely incapable of dealing with.
I don’t know what in the bloody hell happened, nor do I know how to properly handle myself because of it.
And the guilt? The blame I place on myself for allowing Zephyr to attend that meeting, for putting her in the same room as my horrible sire? It is so great that I could easily crumble under its weight.
I will not though; I can not.
I must remain strong for my mate, must send her as much of my calming energy and love as possible in hopes that she will wake sooner rather than later.
Then and only then, once my gentle breeze is on the mend and her health is completely cleared, shall I go after Atticus with a renewed zest for his demise.
