Page 12 of Consume Me (Immortal Vices and Virtues: All Hallows’ Eve #4)

Kendall

M y impending orgasm is snatched away by the sound of metal clanging against the floor.

I know immediately what made that sound, and rage burns through me, chasing away the haze of lust. When I open my eyes, Noctan’s mouth still hovers near mine, his hand still warm against my skin, but his gaze has shifted over my shoulder, the look in his eye now sharp and lethal.

I twist to look, knowing what I’ll find.

The dagger.

Just sitting on the floor behind the couch like it’s been here the whole time, gleaming in the firelight, humming that low, ugly song in my bones. I can’t hear its voice in my head, not while I still have my body pressed to Noctan’s, but the buzzing is inescapable.

The visions threaten to suck me into their thrall.

“Shit,” I breathe.

Noctan is already moving, up and over the couch in a blur of muscle and fury. He doesn’t touch it—he just crouches, studying it like it’s a snake about to strike. “I don’t understand. How the fuck did this thing get here?”

I drag a hand through my hair, trying to brace against the sudden chaos of the dagger’s hissing as Noctan breaks our contact. “It does this.”

His head snaps toward me. “What do you mean it does this ? I have wards in place that should’ve made this thing disintegrate the moment it tried to come through.”

“I mean—” My voice comes out sharper than I intend. “As long as it’s bonded to me, it doesn’t matter where I am or what wards are in place. The dagger’s magic will always find me. Always.”

That’s because you belong to us, the dagger snarls inside my head.

Us. Even with one of them gone, it still thinks like a pair.

I grab my shirt from where Noctan tossed it on the floor and slide it over my head.

When I straighten, Noctan is studying me.

He still hasn’t touched the dagger, but the rune on his arm is glowing again.

It looks painful, and I wonder if he’s weighing the idea of shifting into his wolf and destroying the thing right here and now.

Your fate is tied to ours, little fae , the dagger says, and any doubts I might have had about surviving its destruction evaporate.

My chest threatens to cave in as hope drains away.

“What’s wrong?” Noctan asks as if he can sense my distress.

“If you destroy that thing, I’ll die,” I say quietly.

Noctan’s eyes flash with something. Anger? Regret? “I know.” His jaw works, and I can see the storm brewing in him. “We have to find a way to break the connection.”

The dagger’s voice slithers into my mind before I can answer, silk over steel.

There is a way, little blade.

Noctan stiffens like he knows it’s talking to me. “What’s it saying?”

My lips press together because I know he’s not going to like it. “It says there is a way.”

He straightens slowly, eyes on me. “And?”

I take a breath I don’t want. “It’s reminding me I can still honor the bargain I made with them.”

His gaze narrows. “What bargain?”

My stomach knots, but I have to come clean. He deserves the truth. “To kill you.”

His stillness is worse than rage. Guilt presses down around me. At what I would have done to this gentle warrior. At what’s already been done to him by these daggers.

The room feels too quiet.

The dagger purrs in my head, pleased with itself. One last kill, and we are free. You and I both. Do it now, little fae.

“No.” I grit my teeth. “I will never kill for you again,” I snarl.

We’ll see about that, the dagger whispers, voice curling around my mind like smoke.

The dagger’s hum recedes to its usual ugly murmur, but when I look up again, Noctan’s stare is like a weight.

I can’t help but remember that he’s spent the last four hundred years hunting this very blade with no intention of letting it exist a second longer than necessary.

Yet, here he is, forced to endure it—and the pain of that rune—long after he vowed to.

Mate or not, it can’t be easy to remain in the same room as that thing and do nothing to avenge his friends. His family.

What would I do to avenge mine? Hell, protecting them is what landed me in this mess in the first place. I would suffer again and again if it meant saving Tori and Legion. I can’t ask this of him.

“I should go home,” I say finally.

One dark brow lifts. “Home?”

“I can’t just… stay here.”

He frowns. “Why not?”

“Because…” I trail off, unsure what to say. “We just met,” I blurt.

His brow lifts again, and this time, the sight of it does something to my core. And now, the dagger is forgotten, and I’m hyper-aware of that moment we spent on the couch. Ugh. Stupid hot fae warrior. “You didn’t have a problem with that five minutes ago when my fingers were inside you.”

My face heats because, fuck, he’s not wrong. “That was different,” I mumble.

“Was it?”

“Whose shorts are these?”

“What?” My question catches him off guard. But I don’t care.

“Whose shorts are these?” I repeat, bracing myself for the answer. “You said you’d never found anyone you cared about more than your vow. But these are a female’s shorts. They can’t possibly fit you. And yet you had them in your bedroom.”

“Those shorts belonged to Liara. She was a member of my cadre, and she kept a room here. They all did. Before…”

Liara. His cadre. Of course. Fuck, I’m an idiot.

He clears his throat. “I haven’t been able to bring myself to throw their things away. And tonight, when I saw you needed clothing, I chose what might fit best.”

“Shit, Noctan, I’m sorry. I assumed…”

“Is the mate bond not enough for you?”

I hesitate, unsure how to answer that. But in the end, I go with honesty. Something about this man draws it out of me, apparently. “I guess I never expected to live long enough to find it.”

He looks troubled at that but doesn’t argue. And that only convinces me more that I should go.

I sigh. “Look, you’ve spent hundreds of years hunting that dagger to avenge your friends. I can’t ask you to sleep under the same roof as your enemy. It’s not fair.”

He steps over the dagger like it’s nothing more than a fallen letter opener and closes the distance between us. When he’s standing in front of me, his gaze softens. Slowly, he cups my cheek with a calloused palm, and I lean into it, grateful for the peace and quiet it brings.

“Your safety is more important to me than my vengeance.”

His words pierce through the hardened armor around my heart.

My throat closes with a level of emotion that surprises me.

To have someone choose me over everything else, to do anything to protect me, no matter how big the risk, especially after these last two years of me struggling so hard to protect myself, is everything.

But even so, I shake my head, stepping out of his grasp to stand on my own. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”

His mouth flattens. “You think I’m going to just let you walk out into the world, bound to that thing? Where it could force you to do its bidding, no matter how dark or evil?”

“You’re not letting me do anything,” I say, my tone sharper now.

“You don’t understand. The darkness in that thing is a threat to everyone around you?—”

“A threat I’ve handled pretty damn well without you up until now,” I snap.

He glares at me.

Crossing my arms, I glare back. “I’m telling you. I need my own space, my own bed, my own life.” His eyes flash at that last part. I can’t blame him. I was harsh. But now that it’s out there, I can’t take it back. “I can’t hide out here with you and ignore my problems.”

He studies me for a long beat before letting out a low, frustrated breath. “Fine. I’ll take you back. But I’m going to keep working on a way to sever the bond—safely. You won’t be able to evade me—or this mate bond—forever.”

I blink as his words land against my chest. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“You tell me.”

“I… I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admit, and the stark truth of it steals what’s left of my temper .

He sighs. “There’s plenty of time to figure it out,” he says without a trace of anger. “Forever, in fact.”

Something loosens in my chest. “Thank you.”

Without another word, he steps to the center of the foyer and draws a portal open with a flick of his hand. It shimmers with silver sparks and hums with an ancient sort of magic. When he offers his hand, I take it.

The moment we step through, we’re standing in the middle of Crossroads.

The moon has risen high in the sky, which means it’s late.

Streetlamps cast golden pools on the cobblestones.

At this hour, the streets are empty, and I’m glad since he didn’t bother with discretion over his ability to simply conjure a portal from another world.

I don’t bother to explain to him how impossible that is for the people of this realm. Something tells me he wouldn’t care.

The familiar scent of roasted coffee and woodsmoke drifts from somewhere down the block, grounding me in the ordinary for the first time all night.

And I realize with a weird sort of jolt that Noctan’s been a bit of a daydream to me until this moment.

A wish fulfilled. One I expected to vanish like a lovespell at midnight.

Now that he’s here with me—in my world—he’s somehow more real. More permanent.

The realization both comforts and terrifies me.

We fall into step together as I head toward Spells.

“You live in this village?” he asks, gaze scanning the street like he’s cataloging every possible threat.

“We call it a city. Or a town. But yes. I live above that shop,” I say, pointing at our destination just ahead. “My friend owns it. She’s letting me stay here in exchange for giving her some extra help in her store.”

We reach the door, and I can feel his attention shift to the faint shimmer in the air just beyond the threshold. His eyes narrow. “Wards.”

“Natalia’s pretty insane about security, and her wards are powerful, so I guess I should say good night here.”

He smirks. “You really think they’ll keep me out?”

“They keep out plenty of things worse than you.”

He steps forward—and passes through without even a flicker of resistance. My mouth drops open.

He turns and gives me a look that’s all wolfish satisfaction. “Guess she didn’t account for a sentinel.”

I roll my eyes, leading him through the darkened shop, past shelves of herbs and jars and charms, up the narrow staircase.

When we reach the door to my apartment, I hesitate, keys in hand. “Well. This is me.”

He doesn’t move back. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“That depends,” I say, a little breathless. “Are you planning on behaving?”

His smirk says absolutely not, but instead of answering, he leans past me, opens the door, and follows me inside. The space is small—cozy—and I’m suddenly hyperaware of the fact that I’ve never had a man in here, much less one who makes the walls feel smaller just by standing between them.

I walk to the counter, trying to play it cool. “Well, thank you for walking me up. I guess I’ll, uh, see you soon. ”

But instead of leaving, he steps closer, gaze fixed on mine, crowding me until I’m caught between him and the counter’s edge. “Tomorrow,” he says.

“Tomorrow what?”

“That’s when you’ll see me. And if I didn’t have to go look for ways to separate that dagger from your soul, I’d never leave.”

His gaze darts over my shoulder to where I know my bed sits with rumpled sheets. My mouth goes dry at the idea of him and me in that bed.

“One more thing.”

His voice draws my attention back to him standing before me, his scent invading the air between us.

Before I can ask, his mouth is on mine—soft at first, then more insistent, his hand warm against my cheek before trailing to my throat. He grips me with just enough pressure to drive me crazy. My pulse roars in my ears. I lean into him, a small sound escaping me as his tongue slashes against mine.

Then he pulls back, eyes darkening with delicious promises.

“Good night, Kendall.”

He’s gone before I can utter a response, the scent of pine and earth lingering in his wake, and I’m left standing in my apartment with my lips tingling and the dagger hissing quietly in the back of my mind.