Page 5

5

DANTE

I lead Gaida through the hallways of MistHallow, my senses on high alert. Every shadow seems to conceal potential threats, every sound a warning. The stake remains tucked in my waistband, its presence weirdly comforting. I have a feeling Luke is going to want this back at some point. He keeps looking at it, but he will have to fight me for it.

Literally.

I don’t think I could hand it over to him if I tried. It’s got a possessive grip on me, but not quite as possessive as Gaida’s new sword. Luke’s weapons are a bizarre collection of needy, and jealous antiquities, and they don’t like to be shared. A small shiver goes through me as I remember staking that vampire and the look of dark approval on Luke’s face. It was only the third vampire I’ve ever staked, but it was the most satisfying. The first two were petty arguments compared to this. Protecting Gaida is the only thing that matters.

“You don’t have to grip my arm quite so tightly,” Gaida says, breaking the tense silence between us. “I’m not going to make a run for it.”

I loosen my hold slightly but don’t let go. “Blackthorn’s orders were explicit. Keep you safe, keep you close.”

“Luke’s not the boss of you, or me,” she mutters, though there’s no real conviction behind her words. We both know that in this situation, Luke is the boss of us.

The sword in her hand unnerves me on a level that has never been surpassed. Its presence feels wrong somehow, an intrusion almost. My empathic abilities pick up something unsettling from it—a consciousness, a purpose, a hunger that makes my skin crawl.

“That thing gives me the creeps,” I admit quietly as we approach her bedroom.

Gaida lifts the sword slightly, examining the runes that pulse along its blade. “Me too, if I’m honest. It feels like it’s... watching me from the inside out.”

“Can you feel anything from it?” I ask. “Any emotions or intentions?”

She frowns, considering. “It’s not exactly emotional. More purposeful? Like it knows exactly what it wants and is just waiting for me to figure it out.”

We reach her room, and I check inside carefully before allowing her inside. The room appears undisturbed, which is a small mercy after the chaos of the last few hours.

“Home sweet home,” she sighs, moving to the centre of the room.

I secure the door behind us and lean against it.

Gaida’s attention is focused on the sword still fused to her hand. She gives it another frustrated shake. “I really need this thing to let go now.”

“Have you tried asking it nicely?” I suggest, only half-joking.

She rolls her eyes but then gives me a ‘why-not’ stare and looks down at the blade. “Okay, sword. You’ve made your point. I’m safely in my room now. You can let go.” She opens her hand, palm up.

Nothing happens.

“Brilliant,” she mutters. “I’m going to be sword girl forever before I turn into mummy girl.”

“Try putting it down on something. Maybe it just doesn’t want to be dropped.”

Gaida moves to her pillow and carefully lowers the sword onto its soft surface. For a moment, the blade clings stubbornly to her palm, but then, as if satisfied with its new resting place, it releases its hold. The golden glow dims slightly but doesn’t fade entirely.

“It worked!” She flexes her fingers, examining her palm where the sword had been attached. There’s no mark, no indication that it had been fused to her skin moments before.

“Apparently, it’s a pampered little thing,” I observe, eyeing the weapon warily. Even disconnected from Gaida, it radiates power that my empathic abilities register as a constant, low-level hum.

Gaida steps away from the pillow, putting distance between herself and the sword. “Let’s hope it stays there for a while. I need a breather from ancient vampire artefacts and their cryptic visions.”

She collapses onto her bed at the bottom, exhaustion is evident in every line of her body. The events of the day have taken their toll. It’s more than anyone should have to process in a lifetime, let alone a single day.

I sit beside her, creating a barrier between the sword and her. I place my hand on her stomach and draw small circles. “How are you holding up? Really?”

“Honestly?” She stares up at the ceiling. “I have no idea. It is what it is, you know?”

I snort. “That saying is frustrating as fuck, but yeah, actually, I think I know.”

She giggles and turns onto her side to stare at me.

“No one expects you to have all the answers,” I murmur, cupping her face.

“Don’t they?” she challenges. “The Gargoyles called me the Blood Queen. The sword chose me. Those Equilibrium nuts think I’m going to fulfil some ancient prophecy.”

“What matters is what you choose,” I say finally. “Blood Queen or not, the sword might have chosen you, but you still get to decide what to do with it.”

“And what if I choose wrong? What if I make things worse?”

“Then we deal with it,” I answer.

She holds my gaze for a long moment. Even if I didn’t know before, I know now. Whatever comes, I won’t abandon her.

She leans forward and presses her lips to mine. I capture her bottom lip between my teeth, letting my fangs drop so they hook into the sensitive skin, making her moan. Her blood is a high of power and exhilaration that jump-starts my cock into action, feeding the desire that I’ve been holding back all day. She leans into me as her hands slide up my chest under my tee. Pulling back, she shoves it over my head, her gaze dropping to my chest. She runs her fingers over the groves of the muscles, and I let out a soft sound that sounds like a mewl of longing. I grip her wrist and lower her hand to my cock. It’s bulging, and she smiles seductively, squeezing me through my jeans.

“Fuck, Gaida,” I groan, hardening further. “Suck me off.”

She sits up and flicks open my fly. My cock bounces free, ready and eager. She bends over me and takes me in her pretty mouth, swirling her tongue around the head before taking me deeper. I tangle my hands in her hair, guiding her movements as pleasure courses through me. Her mouth is hot and wet, and she knows exactly how to drive me wild.

“Fuck, that’s good,” I murmur, watching her head bob up and down. The sight of her pleasuring me leaves me breathless.

She hums around my length, sending vibrations that nearly push me over the edge. I tug gently on her hair, pulling her up.

“Not yet,” I growl. “I want to be inside you.”

Her eyes darken with desire as I pull her onto my lap. My hand goes up her dress to push her lacy knickers aside. There is no time for extended foreplay. I need her. Thrusting my fingers into her, I find her ready and soaking.

“So wet just for me,” I purr.

“Not just for you,” she pants, riding my fingers as I hold them still inside her.

“Luke,” I whisper. “Do you want his fingers inside you, Gaida?”

Her eyes widen, but I want her to say it. It gets me off to know I’m pleasuring her, making her come while she thinks of someone else. It’s a bizarre kind of narcissism that makes my cock jerk wildly.

She moans, grinding down on my fingers, her inner walls clenching around them. “Yes,” she admits breathlessly. “I want Luke to be fucking me.”

My cock throbs at her confession. “Use me, ma reine .”

She gasps as I roughly withdraw my fingers, allowing her to slide her cunt over my cock, teasing me before she grips me and guides it inside her.

I plunge up into her heat. She gasps, her hands clasped around my neck, whimpering with each thrust.

“Dante,” she moans, rocking against me. “Harder.”

“Ah, ah,” I murmur. “Who is fucking you, Gaida.”

“Luke!” she cries out immediately, and I nearly burst my banks.

Gripping her hips, I drive into her with increased force. I capture her mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing her cries of pleasure.

“That’s it,” I encourage as she tightens around me. “Come all over my dick while you think about him, Gaida.”

Her back arches as she reaches her peak, her pussy squeezing me tightly. Her cum soaks my cock, gushing out of her as her body convulses hard.

I grip her chin with one hand and force her to look into my eyes. “Now, who’s fucking you, Gaida?”

“You are,” she pants, her eyes glazed with pleasure. “Only you, Dante.”

Satisfaction burns through me, primal and fierce. I thrust up into her one final time, burying myself deep as I explode inside her, my release so intense that stars burst behind my eyelids.

She collapses on my chest, and I stroke her hair, my cock still inside her, hoping for more. She giggles and lifts herself off me.

“Maybe later,” she whispers and kisses me quickly before she disappears into the bathroom. I hear the shower running, and I consider joining her when a white-hot electric current runs through my brain, connecting me directly to the sword.

Groaning, I roll over, trying to escape the empathic pull it has on me, but it’s got me in its grip, and it’s not letting go.

Fear and something icy slides over my soul. If I was in any doubt as to whether this sword was sentient or not, I definitely know now that it is. There is a presence inside it, but I can’t quite reach out to who or what it is. It doesn’t want me to know. Not yet. The time isn’t right. But it will.

And when it does, I have a terrible, foreboding feeling that we are going to wish Gaida had never laid hands on that thing.