Promised in Blood (Broken Bloodlines Book 2)
Promised in Blood: Chapter 29

“Your tracking skills have not dulled over the centuries, old friend.” Nazeel’s feminine voice contains a hint of amusement that only further feeds my fury. She is somewhere nearby, cloaked in the shadows, glimmering in and out to throw off my senses. But her powers are lessened here. There is something about hallowed ground which affects witches’ magic, making it less potent. That is what makes a cemetery the perfect place to disguise a portal to another continent. The energy is dulled enough to not draw attention.

Luckily for me, my eyes are more accustomed to the dark than hers, and therefore all I need is a little patience to find her. Unfortunately, my patience is in short supply when it comes to all matters of Ophelia.

“A witch with your power is easy to find, Nazeel. It leaves a scent behind.”

Her musical laugh rings in my ears. “Only for those clever enough to decipher it.”

My frustration grows. “You flatter me, witch.”

I skirt the edges of the mausoleum, focusing in on her scent and picking out the unique notes of the rare orchid which only grows on the foothills of the mountain where the Order makes their home. “I had thought this portal decommissioned a long time ago.”

“I resurrected it but a few years ago. It seemed pertinent to have a quick route to Havenwood.” Her breathing is quiet but easily detectable. Her heartbeat is steady, but her pulse thrums against the pressure points on her body.

I lick my lips, tasting the air as I edge closer, staying between her and the portal. Waiting. Patience.

My hand snaps out and wraps around her throat. “Nazeel Danraath. What brings you to Havenwood, so far from home?”

I tilt her head up so her bright-green eyes sparkle in the moonlight. “You already know, Alexandros Drakos. That is why you are here, is it not?”

I squeeze her throat a little tighter, but she offers no reaction. She is too powerful to show weakness. “You resurrected the portal to have direct access to Ophelia?”

She nods.

A growl rumbles from deep inside my chest. “Why? What is your interest in the girl?”

“If you let go of my throat, it would be much easier to tell you.”

I stare into her eyes and look for signs that she is not to be trusted, but I find none. Nazeel is cunning and underhanded, but she has never given me reason to doubt her. She was an ally during the elementai genocide, even saving Giorgios’s life despite not being permitted to interfere. For that, my family will always owe her a debt. I release her from my grip, and she steps back, giving her neck a soothing massage.

“I first came across the child when she was a babe.”

I recall what Ophelia told me earlier. “It was you who found her?”

She tips her head and presses her lips together. “Not exactly. Kameen was summoned by her parents.”

Kameen Nassari does not allow himself to be summoned, unless … Another piece of the puzzle falls into place. “His brother, Jadon. He was Ophelia’s father?”

She nods. “Yes.”

Jadon and Kameen, the only sons of Artemis—one of the heirs of the most powerful demon who ever lived. “So she is a descendant of Azezal?”

“Yes. And Kameen’s niece.”

I scrutinize her familiar features as though they will offer more than what she has already disclosed despite knowing the futility of such an endeavor. Even with my newly enhanced powers, it would take me a century to break down Nazeel’s walls. “Then it was you who bound her powers.” It is not a question. She is one of the few who still lives with such knowledge and strength.

But there is no mistaking the hurt that flashes in her eyes. Binding a child’s powers is barbaric and cruel, and Nazeel comes from a long line of witches who use their magic to heal. I have no doubt that it was not a painless undertaking for her. “I did. It was necessary for her protection. There were others who surely knew she was a powerful being. Others who would have stopped at nothing to get to her. The same ones who sent the creatures that killed her parents would have come for her.”

“Who was Ophelia’s mother?”

She brushes a speck of dirt from her cloak. “A common human. Nothing special.” There is no disdain in her voice, simply the truth of her observation. However, it grates on me that she would call the mother of the other half of my soul nothing special. I suppress a growl and allow her to continue. “At least half a dozen vampires lay burned to ash in the surrounding wood. The baby was removed from her mother’s womb with fire after the human took her final breath. Ophelia survived without even the slightest mark on her skin.”

A thick coil of trepidation snakes its way through my gut. I refuse to believe in prophecies, yet the words are a chant in my head all the same, like a disembodied voice from a long-suppressed memory.

“Many souls were lost that night, Alexandros. Her mother perished before Kameen set fire to her corpse, and her father bled out from a wound poisoned with painite.” I take a step backward, no longer wishing to hear what I know is coming next. Her hand grips my forearm with astonishing strength, and I am unable to pull away.

The events of that night unfold before me like I am standing there witnessing it firsthand. An infant Ophelia is lifted from a burned-out corpse, her tiny body covered in a film of blood and ash, her piercing cries of declaration ringing through the night air. “She was borne of fire and blood, Alexandros.”

I grit my teeth and shake my head. “Do not quote prophecy to me, Nazeel.”

Her frustration grows palpable. “I do not have much time.” She glances at the portal entrance behind me. “Kameen will come searching for me.”

“All the more evidence that you should not be here, meddling in matters that do not concern you.”

Her emerald-green eyes narrow. “You only know part of the prophecy, Alexandros. If you knew the full verse⁠—”

I growl a warning. “Do not hold your knowledge over me like some kind of bait for me to snap at, witch. I do not believe in prophecies.”

“You cannot deny that she has the ability to be the most powerful being of our time. Of our entire history. And you are⁠—”

“I said do not!” My roar reverberates off the stone surrounding us in the otherwise empty cemetery.

She presses her hand to her temple and winces. “Kameen is searching for me. I must leave.”

“I have many more questions, Nazeel.”

She shuffles, her eyes darting to the portal and then back to me. “I have no more time.”

I press on, uncaring about what she needs. I need answers, and she has them. “Was it you who led her here? To Montridge?”

She nods quickly. “To you, Alexandros.”

My eyes narrow. “Why?”

“To fulfill your destinies.” She hitches up her cloak like she is about to make a run for it, but we both know I am faster. “I must go.”

“I will let you leave if you give me your word that you will stay away from Ophelia.”

She licks her bottom lip, contemplating my offer and no doubt wondering whether she could get by me. She cannot. Not without the full strength of her magic, which she does not have access to on this hallowed ground. Were she a demon or an elementai who could channel without the need for spells, she would stand a chance. Her eyes screw closed, and she staggers back a step. “I must leave. Now.”

“Give me your word.”

Her pulse flutters in her throat like the wings of a bird trapped in a cage. No doubt her fear of Kameen is greater than her fear of me, but I will use whatever I can get to my advantage.

She glances over my shoulder once more. “Fine, I give you my word I will stay away from the girl. But she is more powerful than you can even comprehend, Alexandros.”

I step aside and allow her to pass. The concealed portal opens upon her approach, recognizing her ancient magic. Before she steps through it, she gives me one final look over her shoulder. “And she will change you.”

In the blink of an eye, she disappears, and I am left staring at the crumbling wall of the mausoleum. What the hell did she mean? I resist the urge to follow her and ask. She will be long gone once she passes through to the other side, and my knowledge of that terrain is much less than hers. Besides, I am eager—no, desperate to return home and hold her in my arms.

And to fulfill the promise I made before I left. Her blood sings to my soul, calling me back to her any time I stray too far.

Of course she will change me. She already has.

The house is quiet, but the sound of all four of their heartbeats is vibrant inside my head. I am connected to each of them, and I feel them always. Lately, the connection has been more intense than ever before, and I know the boys feel it too. Perhaps it has been opening my heart to Ophelia that has allowed the bond with them to take root there too. Or perhaps it is something entirely different.

Malachi steps out of the shadows at the top of the stairs. “You’re back. Did you find Nazeel?” he asks quietly.

“I did.” I climb the stairs, and with every step I take toward her, to all of them, my blood grows hotter.

“Is everything okay? Is Ophelia in danger?” He still speaks quietly, his velvety rich voice thick with sleep. His innocence and curiosity serve to pull a halfhearted smile from me. I place my hand on the back of his neck and squeeze as I press my forehead to his. “Ophelia is always in danger, Malachi. That is the reality of the burden we all share now.”

“She’s not a burden.” His warm breath mingles with mine.

“No, she is not. She is the reason that our hearts beat.”

Gingerly, he rests his hand over my heart, where it beats a steady rhythm against his palm. He has always been the most sensitive of souls, even though he refutes such assertions. “Is she sleeping?”

“Yes.”

The thought of crawling over her sleeping form and slipping inside her warmth as she slumbers has my fangs protracting and my cock stiffening. “Were you all gentle with her for me?” They heard the promise I made to her before I left, and whilst I did not order them to take it easy with her, I hope that it was implicit.

His fingertips flex against my shirt. “Yes sir.”

“You are good boys.” I press a kiss on his forehead before I brush past him and go to her.

The door to Axl’s room is ajar, and she lies curled up to Xavier’s chest with Axl pressed up against her back. Her soft breathing soothes the beast inside me that wants nothing more than to climb on top of her and claim her. Rut into her until she feels nothing but me. Instead, I shrug off my coat and crawl onto the bed. Xavier wakes first and, upon seeing me, rolls away from her, giving me room. I nudge Axl out of the way, and he opens one eye before rolling onto his back. I should carry her to my own bed, but her arousal and her blood are already thick in the air, and my body physically aches for her too much to wait any longer.

I pull the comforter down, revealing her pale skin, and dust my mouth along her arm. She shivers. My cock hardens, pressing painfully against my zipper.

I hold myself up on one forearm as I trail my lips up her body until my mouth is close to her ear. “I am back, little one.”

“Alexandros,” she mumbles sleepily, her eyes still closed.

With my free hand, I push her onto her back and allow my eyes to rake over her perfect body. Her naked skin is covered in the scent of my boys, but that does nothing to detract from how good she smells. My fangs ache, and my mouth waters with anticipation to taste her.

I trail my fingertips across her collarbone. “So sweet, little Ophelia.”

She murmurs, stuck halfway between a dream and waking. I slide my knee between her thighs, pushing them apart. “Shh. You can stay asleep if you must.”

Her lips curve in a smile, her eyes remaining closed. But she is not closed off from me. Her mind is open. Her thighs spread wider until I drop between them, fitting against her like I was always meant to be here. I am vaguely aware of Malachi climbing back onto the bed beside Xavier and feel all three sets of eyes on me, but it does not matter. We are all a part of this. A part of her. I will take her whilst they watch and show them how beautifully she moans my name when she comes for me.

“Need to eat,” she mumbles, still dreaming.

I hum against her skin, my lips vibrating against the soft skin of her throat. “You are right. I do need to eat.” I drag my mouth lower and flick my tongue over the turgid peaks of her nipples, then move down to her stomach. She moans, and the lower I get, the louder her needy little sounds become. Finally, my mouth is at the apex of her thighs, and I suck the swollen bud of her clit into my mouth. She gasps, threading her fingers in my hair and rocking her hips against my face.

You awake now, little one?

“Y-yes.” She grinds herself onto my lips and tongue as I lick and suck at her delicious pussy.

So close to the edge already. Were you dreaming of me? I chuckle against her, and the vibration makes her whimper.

I was waiting for you to come home and d-do this. She speaks through our bond, her breathing becoming raspy and labored. I lick her to her first orgasm, taking care of her swollen, tender flesh with my mouth before I fuck her because, as careful as I intend to be, I can never hold back as much as I should.

“Alexandros!” The breathy cry of my name from her lips fills me with pride, not only at the sounds she makes but also the groans that rumble from my boys as they watch us—as they feel her come apart for me.

You come like such a good girl for me.

She mewls at my praise, and her submission makes my length ache with the need to be inside her.

I press a kiss to the top of her inner thigh. The arterial pulse in her groin throbs like a beacon, calling me to bite her, but I move up her body, trailing my hungry mouth over her stomach and breasts until I reach the place where her lifeblood flows strongest. There is nothing better than sinking my fangs into her pretty throat whilst I am buried inside her hot, needy pussy.

Hurriedly, I free my cock from my pants and line up my crown, already seeping precum, at her entrance. She snakes her legs around my waist, and her snug entrance milks the tip of my shaft. Nazeel’s words ring in my head. She will change you.

Jealousy—and the desire to prove to Ophelia and the rest of the world that I own every part of her—burns through me, causing a possessive growl to rumble in my throat.

Hold her open for me, I order Axl and Xavier, who obey immediately, unhooking her calves from behind my back and spreading her thighs as wide as she can comfortably tolerate.

She blinks at me, her blue eyes shining with anticipation. “I want to be so deep inside you that there is no doubt who you belong to, little one.”

She nods and sinks her teeth into her pillowy bottom lip, daring me to do it. To fuck her so hard that she is forever molded to the shape of my cock.

And the sweet relief I feel when I push all the way inside her with one possessive stroke has my eyes rolling back in my head. My entire shaft is cocooned within her pulsing heat, but it is not enough. I rest on my forearms and nuzzle at her neck until I find the perfect spot where her carotid artery runs thick and fast with her blood. Her whimpers turn to needy moans as I bite down, piercing her tender flesh with my fangs and allowing her decadent taste to flood my mouth. The fire already raging inside me is stoked to an inferno.

“I need you.” She runs her hands over my back, pulling up my shirt so she can access my skin. Her nails rake down my spine, and it makes me drive harder into her, causing the bed to rock violently.

And with every stroke inside her, ancient prophecies and their vague notions swirl around my mind.

The one who will bring our ruin or our redemption.

The one who will bring balance to the world.

But the world cannot have her. She is mine. My ruin and redemption. I try to drown it all out and lose myself in only her. In the way her tight warmth grips me like she fears I will leave, and in the way her soft body yields to mine despite the power running through every fiber of her being. But the witch’s words continue to play on repeat. She will change you.

I pull out and sink into Ophelia again, over and over, deeper and harder than before, suckling greedily on her neck until her lifeblood courses through me as strongly as my own. Her desperate moans anchor me back to her, to this. The moment we share is so much more than the simple act of fucking. It is the life-affirming, eternally beautiful reunion of two halves of the same soul. A soul forged from the atoms of the universe billions of years ago, when the world was still blinking its newborn eyes at the first sun. I have surely loved her before, and I will find and love her through every incarnation until the end of time itself.