I STOOD IN THE BEDROOM doorway watching her. Frozen. Unable to process what I was seeing, because this was not what I’d expected when I got the call from Keir that someone had shot drugged darts at Xamien and Delara.
Delara sat at Xamien’s bedside, her hand tucked in his and her cheek resting on his forearm as she slept.
If it were Jedrik, I’d get it, but this was a Taldeburu she’d met once before. Once.
Fuckin’ once.
But nothing I was looking at said once.
It was fuckin’ intimate.
Intimate. The word roared through me.
They were fucking.
I staggered back a step, my Ink awakening to my anger. I had no right to care whom she was with. I had no rights to her at all. I’d given her up.
And yet, she would always be mine. Always.
“Waleron?” her soft voice called.
She lifted her head and slid her hand from Xamien’s as she rose.
My throat constricted as I watched her come toward me, concern in her eyes, and then she stopped, gaze flickering to my Ink that coiled around my neck, its eyes blazing red.
“Waleron, it’s—”
I Traced, knowing there was only one place for me right now. My Ink was attempting to control me and the rage would destroy everything in its path. My path.
Tracing into my house, I walked down the stairs to the basement and unlocked the door to my hell. My prison.
The room was unfinished, with cement walls and floors and one lightbulb hanging from the ceiling by a black nylon rope.
It was cool and the air smelled damp and heavy in the empty space. There was one reason this room existed and that was for the chains I’d bolted into the wall.
I locked the door behind me and walked across the room, yanking off my shirt and tossing it on the floor.
Glancing down at myself, I saw my Ink travel down my arm, loop around and slither back up to curl around my neck. Its movements grew faster and its rage became mine.
I fought against it. If my Ink consumed me, there was no coming back.
Placing my back against the wall, I bent and snapped the manacles around my ankles, then my wrists.
My Ink raged across my skin, its red eyes blazing as it hissed. My skin burned as the snake fed off the anger that throbbed inside me.
Fighting against it, I threw myself against the wall as it tore down my back. Its scream pierced my ears as it violently ripped through me.
Over and over, we fought against one another. Pain. Agonizing pain. My body crashing into the wall repeatedly. Arms and legs jerking against the chains.
Minutes became hours as we battled.
Blood and sweat mixed together and slid down my ravaged skin.
Finally, I let out a wild, crazed roar, threw my head back, muscles straining against the chains, and then collapsed.
Hanging limp in the chains, panting, I closed my eyes and thought of her.
My love. My everything.
Only then did my Ink finally coil back in place and lay silent.
“Kitten, come here.”
I stopped pacing and my gaze shot to Xamien in bed. “You’re awake.”
“Yeah, but I wish I wasn’t. Fuckin’ head is pounding and my body feels like it’s black and blue.” His brow furrowed. “You’re upset.”
I frowned. “Of course I am. You were shot with a drug and we didn’t…. God, you convulsed and then….” I ran my hand through my hair as I walked to the bed and sat in the chair I’d fallen asleep in—until Waleron’s scent had woken me and I’d seen him standing there.
The rest of the night, I’d paced back and forth, anxiety clutching at my insides like a vise. God, the shock on his face, it was like I’d stuck my knife through his chest.
I’d never wanted that for him, and yet at the same time I did, because no matter what I spewed, I wanted Waleron to love me again.
I put my finger to Xamien’s throat and felt his pulse. “Anstice said it was likely a drug used for horses.”
He curled his fingers around my wrist and brought my hand to his mouth, kissing my fingers. “You stayed with me.”
“Of course,” I muttered, but gently withdrew my hand.
“And yet, something is bothering you.” His hand stroked the back of my head.
“Yes, I was afraid you were going to die, Xamien.”
“No,” Xamien said, his fingers in my hair. “You forget how well I know your mind.” He paused and I felt him pushing at my shield. It didn’t take much because what concerned me was sitting on the surface. “It’s Waleron.”
My body stiffened. His hand dropped away.
“I should get Anstice and she’ll check you over, but your pulse is good and—”
He cupped my chin. “Stop. Tell me.”
“Xamien. It’s not important right now. You are.” I tried to get up, but he snagged my hand and yanked me back into the chair.
“I’m fine. Now tell me,” he ordered.
And it was an order, as his eyes darkened and brows lowered. “He was here.”
“And?”
“I fell asleep holding your hand and woke to him watching us.” My stomach churned and I swallowed several times.
I’d been with other men, the vampire Liam and the Wraith Edan, but they were jobs. Xamien was different. He wasn’t a job. He meant something to me, and Waleron would’ve seen that.
We’d been having sex for years on and off, but now… now it felt wrong. God, it pounded into my head like a sledgehammer. Was I betraying Waleron? How could I betray him when he refused me?
He’d said once that he’d try, but it was to stop me from being with Edan.
Xamien cupped my chin. “It’s not your fault. You have to live, Delara.”
“When does it go away?” I asked quietly.
“It doesn’t.” His thumb stroked back and forth on the dip in my chin. “He’s always in bed with us. It’s nothing new, kitten. Waleron lives inside you and you’re constantly fighting it. Whether it was by law or not, he was your maite and your bond is eternal. Maybe it’s time you just accept him being there.”
I nodded.
Xamien and Waleron were complete opposites, and maybe that was why it was easy being with Xamien. He was laid-back, but there was intensity in him and, in a way, it was stronger than Waleron’s. It was his calm that made him dangerous. Xamien fought with his head, relentless and patient.
Waleron had rage burning inside him, and despite his cold, unemotional detachment, when he fought there was an underlying passion. A fierce determination. And there was always the chance he’d lose control of that rage.
But he never did.
“I’ll get Anstice, then I need to shower.” I slipped from his grasp and was standing when a mist of cool rain sprinkled my skin.
My breath hitched and Xamien threw his legs over the side of the bed to get up.
“Hello, Delara. Xamien.” Genevieve, the Wraith of Water, appeared by the bedroom window in all her magnificence.
It was as if she’d purposely picked that spot so the sunlight would emphasize her natural beauty. The morning rays caught her blonde hair, making it appear almost translucent, while the moisture clinging to her skin scintillated.
Genevieve smiled at Xamien, and her eyes trailed down his body, desire flaring. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Xamien. You look well.”
“Genevieve.” He bowed his head respectfully; however, his eyes didn’t match his address. They were stone cold. Was there history between them? I knew Xamien had once sat on the Deaconry, but left. Was Genevieve the reason?
“I apologize for appearing unannounced, however it’s imperative, as it concerns Waleron.”
My breath hitched and my fingers gripped the sides of my jeans. “Is he okay?”
“Yes. For now,” she replied.
Genevieve glided across the room to stand a few feet away from me. The moisture that emanated from her glistening skin clung to the tip of my tongue.
“There is discourse in the Realm,” she continued. “One person in particular is attempting to have Waleron incarcerated.”
“Edan,” I whispered. Oh God, no. Waleron would never survive being imprisoned again.
Xamien rose, ignoring the fact that he was in his boxers and half-naked. “Why? He’s done nothing wrong. And the Wraiths cannot imprison a Taldeburu without a damn good reason.”
“True, however they have reason.”
“What?” Xamien barked.
Genevieve ran her finger down the glass vase sitting on the dresser. “Tarek Rising makes Waleron a liability. He acts irrationally, even with his pills. The Wraiths see this and wish to control the situation before it becomes an issue.” She shifted her feet and her long, pale blue dress caught the sunlight, making it glitter with beads of water. “It has been brought to the Deaconry’s attention that Waleron is hunting Tarek and he plans on killing him. Unless Tarek poses a threat, we can’t allow that to happen. You understand if we decide to incarcerate him. It is to protect him.”
“It will kill him,” I blurted. “You first threaten his Taldeburu and now to imprison him? He has done nothing but give his loyalty. He lives by his oaths. You can’t do that.” It had to be Edan causing the trouble in the Realm. The Fire Wraith has had it out for Waleron for centuries, even before I was an issue.
Xamien stepped forward and took my hand, squeezing. “Careful, kitten, she is the kindest of Wraiths, but still a Wraith.”
“Waleron is one of the most powerful Scars alive. Although we don’t know about you, do we, Xamien? You choose to keep all your powers hidden.” Xamien tensed, but didn’t respond. “The Wraiths are here to see that all Scars abide by our laws. That includes Waleron.”
“He isn’t breaking any goddamn law,” I shouted.
“Delara, don’t piss her off. She can be a real bitch.”
Genevieve smiled. “My dear, you protect him. That’s good. He needs someone to stand at his side even if he doesn’t want it.” Her eyes hardened. “Stay with Xamien’s Talde for now, and I will do what I can to pacify those who wish to lock Waleron up. You being here is a detriment and does not help him.” A cool mist dispersed around us and Genevieve was gone.
I straightened my shoulders and turned to Xamien. “I shouldn’t have fought him. Shit. This was why he wanted me gone so badly. Why he wouldn’t let me face Tarek. Because the Wraiths think he’s acting irrationally and I’m making it worse for him.” I headed for the door. “I’ll leave right now and take the jet. You can Trace back to Spain when you feel better.”
He shook his head. “No. You can’t go alone. Go pack. I’ll meet you downstairs.”