Page 48
Story: Bitten By Prophecy
ELIAS
T he salt air burns in my lungs the first time I step out onto the cliffs of Dragon Island.
The ocean churns below us, endless and alive, crashing against black stone in a rhythm that matches the slow, steady thud of my heart.
It’s not quiet here, not really. The wind howls. The sea roars. Somewhere behind us, I hear the low, rumbling calls of dragons circling the peaks.
But inside me?
Silence.
Not the broken, bleeding kind that used to gnaw at my bones.
A peace I never fucking thought I’d deserve.
And at the center of it, the reason I’m even breathing right now—Kaia.
She stands at the edge of the cliff, eyes narrowed against the wind, her wild curls whipped into a black halo around her head. The light catches on the shimmer of her skin—Fae magic blooming through her now so naturally it’s like it’s always been there, waiting to be free.
God, she's fucking beautiful.
I roll my shoulders, adjusting the heavy leather coat I never ditched even after all this time. Habits die hard, I guess. The armor we used to wear to survive the world before we carved a new one out of its bones.
Behind us, the summit’s in full swing. A thousand voices—human and supernatural alike—murmur and argue and laugh across the sprawling white tents pitched on the cliffs.
The first ever supernatural-human peace summit.
And somehow, by some cosmic joke or miracle, Kaia and I are the ones leading it.
Us. The runaway soldier and the broken monster.
"You’re brooding again," Kaia says, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth without even turning around.
"Not brooding," I mutter, moving up behind her. "Thinking."
"Same thing in your case." Her voice is dry as sandpaper, but there’s warmth in it too. A softness she saves for when she thinks no one else can hear.
I wrap my arms around her waist, dragging her back flush against my chest. She melts into me without hesitation, like we’re two halves of the same wildfire.
Maybe we are.
"You ever think about how fucking crazy this is?" I murmur against the curve of her ear. "All of it? Us?"
She tilts her head up, golden eyes catching mine. A challenge. A fucking promise.
"Every damn day."
I kiss the top of her head, breathing her in—salt and steel and whatever the hell that scent is that’s just
Kaia .
I never thought I’d get this.
Not after everything I did.
Everything I was.
But she saw through all the rage and the blood and the broken pieces. Saw me. Chose me anyway.
And together, we didn’t just survive.
We changed the world .
The Veil still shimmers above the waterline, no longer a hard divide, no longer something to tear apart or fear. It’s translucent now, breathing like a living thing, a bridge between two worlds instead of a wall.
Our magic did that.
Our love did that.
When we bound ourselves to it, when our essences merged into that swirl of gold and shadow, we made damn sure the Veil would fall one day with grace, not in chaos.
But not yet.
First, there’s living to do.
Kaia twists in my arms, facing me fully now, hands braced against my chest. Her mouth curves up in that wicked way that always makes my blood heat instantly.
"You know," she says, voice low and dangerous, "we’re technically heroes now."
I arch a brow. "Yeah?"
"Mhm." She drags her nails lightly down my chest, and my whole body tightens. "Saviors. Peacekeepers. Whatever title you wanna slap on it."
"Sounds exhausting," I say, voice gone rough.
"Good thing we’ve got time to blow off some steam then." She leans up on her toes, her mouth brushing mine—a whisper of contact that ignites every nerve ending I have.
I growl low in my throat, one hand sliding down to cup her ass, dragging her even closer.
"You tryna start something?"
Her smile is pure sin. "Finish it, more like."
My control snaps.
I kiss her hard, deep, hungry—the way I’ve wanted to since the second she dragged me back from the fucking edge of hell. She moans softly against my mouth, and I swear to god it’s the sweetest fucking sound I’ve ever heard.
I spin us, slamming her back against the cliff wall, careful but still desperate, like I can’t get close enough to her no matter how hard I try.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging just enough to make me groan. My hands roam freely, memorizing every curve, every scar, every inch of her like a man starved.
The wind tastes like her laughter and the sea’s rage as I crush Kaia against the stone, my hands biting into her hips hard enough to leave bruises she’ll smirk at tomorrow. She nips my lower lip, sharp and punishing, her fingers twisting in my hair.
“You’re thinking too loud,” she gasps against my mouth. Her thigh hooks around my waist, dragging me closer. The cliffside shudders under our weight, pebbles skittering into the abyss below.
“Easy, Fae princess. Unless you want the entire summit to watch me wreck you.” My words snarl out rougher than I intend, fangs pricking my tongue.
Kaia’s eyes flare molten, her skin shimmering faintly as magic thrums beneath it. “They’d need telescopes.” She shoves me back a step, all fierce grin and wild curls. “But I don’t share.”
I catch her wrist before she can retreat, yanking her against me. “Too late. You’re stuck with this monster.”
“Upgraded model, actually.”
I hoist her up, her legs locking around my waist as I stride toward the arched balcony jutting over the sea. The summit’s tents blur behind us, voices swallowed by the waves. She laughs, low and dark, teeth scraping my jugular—testing, always testing.
Stone cracks under my grip as I set her on the balustrade. Salt spray mists her shoulders, catching the moonlight like scattered diamonds. I arch a brow. “This unstable enough for you?”
Her nails rake down my spine, ripping fabric. “I want it to break .”
I flip open the slit of her skirt, calloused fingers meeting the fevered silk of her inner thighs.
Her scent hits me first—salt and jasmine and the electric tang of her awakening magic, so potent my fangs throb against my tongue.
The first thrust steals my breath not from pleasure, but from the sheer violence of restraint required; my claws splinter stone as I fight not to shred her dress, her skin, this fragile mortal shell hiding a storm.
Kaia arches like drawn steel, her gasp swallowed by the thunder of waves below.
Her hands map the scars across my shoulders with predatory precision, blunt human nails carving furrows that close before blood can bloom.
Every snap of her hips is a battle strategy honed against my ribs, every bite at my jugular a surrender I taste in the copper between our lips.
Her heat grips me tighter than any shackle the Order ever forged, mortal flesh impossibly soft around the brutal geometry of my cock.
"Still," she pants, fingers knotting in my hair to jerk my head back, "think this alliance is stable?" Her amber eyes flash with fractured light—gold bleeding into emerald at the edges. The change I shouldn't notice.
I growl low in my throat, the sound more wolf than man as I slam her harder against the eroding balustrade.
"Fuck stability." The ancient marble cracks further, our combined weight scattering shards into the abyss.
Her answering laugh fractures into a moan that vibrates through my bones, through the cursed blood singing in my veins.
Her teeth find my earlobe, sharp and deliberate. "There's the beast."
"You made the beast." The pulse beneath her skin quickening as my mouth claims hers.
She tastes like victory stolen from ancestral graves, like recklessness distilled into nectar.
The ivy she summons from shattered stone whispers across my throat—not restraint, but invitation, leaves soft as her gasped "Keep going" against my split lip.
The balcony disintegrates.
We fall entwined, her legs locked around my hips, my hand cradling the base of her skull—as the world fractures into sea spray and moonlight.
Saltwater stings my eyes as we plunge beneath the waves, but Kaia's grin remains etched against the dark: challenge and triumph and something dangerously like trust. Her curls fan around us like ink spilled in liquid night, our movements turning fluid and desperate as the ocean swallows our war cries.
Fractured marble bites my shoulders as we sink deeper. Cold brine floods my nostrils but I taste only her—salt and iron and that impossible spark humming beneath her skin, brighter now that she's stopped pretending to be human.
Across my fractured ribs, the wolf bays victory. Beneath my pounding pulse, the vampire counts each heartbeat fluttering against my tongue like a caged sparrow.
Our teeth clash in something too vicious for a kiss, her fingernails scoring twin rivers down my back that heal as fast as she can open them.
When the convulsions take her, I drink her gasp—not blood but breath, not theft but sacrament.
The sea floor rises to meet our joined bodies, silt swirling around us like funeral ashes for the people we were an hour ago.
This, I think as her laughter bubbles against my throat, sharp and bright as broken glass, is what being reborn means.
Table of Contents
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