Page 17

OLLIE

Ollie’s pulse pounded, Dante’s breath catching as Ollie’s grip tightened on his shoulders. He wouldn’t normally get in this position with a friend, but it felt so fucking right.

Ollie would do anything for the hollowness inside him to go away, to forget this day ever happened, and sitting in Dante’s lap felt healing.

It was like their nearness changed something in Ollie’s chemical makeup.

His worries faded. He might not know exactly what mates were, but it felt right to be Dante’s.

“I’ve got you, Ollie,” Dante whispered, his hands resting gently on Ollie’s towel-covered thighs. “I promise to be a good mate to you. I won’t let this hurt you anymore.”

Ollie nodded, voice escaping him.

Dante rested his forehead against Ollie’s and began to chant strange, rhythmic sounds. With each puff of Dante’s breath, something familiar washed over Ollie. Did he recognize the spell from the first time Dante uttered it, even though he’d been unconscious?

Dante’s chants tickled Ollie’s skin, leaving him feeling infinitely more cleansed than the shower. Warmth flooded Ollie’s bones. Their breath mingled, and Dante’s peppermint scent filled Ollie’s nose.

Surrounded by Dante, Ollie believed he’d be okay, even in the face of everything that had happened.

Electricity buzzed up and down Ollie’s spine, even after Dante finished the spell. The silence felt alive. Ollie shivered, not ready to let go of the sensation. It was weird and kind of wonderful.

Ollie found himself smiling.

When Dante pulled back, Ollie missed the press of their foreheads together. It was like he’d gotten attached to the small physical connection and didn’t know what to do without it.

Dante gave him a tender look of understanding. Fuck, Ollie had never felt so seen.

“Are you ready to exchange blood?” Dante asked.

Ollie hesitated, even with all the good feelings buzzing around him. “Is it safe?”

Dante nodded. “Yes, we’re immortal. Diseases and infections can’t affect us.”

“Okay.” Ollie blushed. If they had sex, there’d be no need for a condom. Fuck, why was he thinking that?

Dante took one of Ollie’s hands in his and massaged it. “We only need a small amount. A sip each. It won’t hurt, but I’ll go first and give you my blood, all right?”

Ollie nodded. This was the most bizarre thing he’d ever done, or it should have been. Intellectually speaking, drinking blood was creepy. Except it wasn’t. He felt nothing but calm.

He needed this.

Dante brought his wrist to his lips. He bared his teeth, canines lengthening into fangs, and bit down.

Ollie expected the sight of blood to turn his stomach. He braced himself, but as Dante pulled back, red on his teeth and dripping from his wrist, Ollie’s mouth watered, desire tugging behind his navel.

He reached for Dante, bringing Dante’s wounded wrist to his lips, and lapped at it with his tongue. It wasn’t enough. Ollie covered the wound with his mouth and sucked, blood coating his tongue as a low groan rumbled deep in Dante’s chest.

Dante tasted like fresh peppermint and warm sun on salty skin. Nothing had ever been so good.

Pleasure spiked along Ollie’s spine, his cock thickening unexpectedly. Holy shit. Ollie needed more. He sucked harder, his pleasure building until his cock was fully erect.

A soft, almost purring sound emanated from Dante’s throat and his cock hardened against Ollie. Was it in response to Ollie’s erection or Ollie drinking Dante’s blood? Ollie wished they weren’t separated by towels. He needed skin on skin.

Oh god, did Ollie have a blood kink? Did Dante?

It was so good Ollie almost didn’t care. He drank deeper, Dante’s other hand tightening on Ollie’s thigh. Dante’s breaths came out soft and panting—desperate—but he didn’t roll his hips or pull Ollie closer.

Ollie wished he would. He wanted to mate in every sense of the word, with Dante’s bare cock in his ass. Too bad they’d agreed not to have sex. To be friends. To mate but not be together. And it was the right choice, no matter how good this felt.

Ollie pulled back before he did something he’d regret, licking his lips like he’d had ice cream, not blood.

Dante’s face was flushed deep red, his eyes hooded. He cleared his throat, his voice rough like gravel. “Was that okay?”

“Better than okay,” Ollie breathed, forcing himself not to squirm on Dante’s lap. “Is it my turn?”

Dante nodded, delicately clutching Ollie’s wrist.

Pleasure tightened deep inside Ollie. It was kind of fucked up that he was hard over this after what happened on the beach, but he couldn’t focus on anything bad right now. It was impossible.

“You’re doing so well, Ollie. We’re almost there,” Dante murmured before his lips closed over Ollie’s wrist and sharp teeth punctured Ollie’s flesh.

Pleasure zinged along Ollie’s nerves.

His head dropped back, mouth open on a moan. Dante sucked, and Ollie swore his wrist and cock were connected. Tingles wound down his spine. His balls ached. He groaned and rolled his hips, unable to hold back.

No wonder this was usually sexual.

But Dante didn’t respond to Ollie’s rocking hips. He remained painfully still, except for the bobbing of his throat as he sucked on Ollie’s wrist. Even his eyes were closed.

Ollie forced himself to stop moving. He couldn’t hump Dante like a horny animal.

But it didn’t help. The lack of friction didn’t stop the pleasure winding tight inside him. Dante’s still hands felt like fire on his skin.

“Dante,” Ollie whispered in warning. Or was he begging for more? He wasn’t sure. Much longer, and it wouldn’t matter if Ollie was rubbing against Dante or not. His balls drew tight.

How was he about to come from Dante drinking his blood?

Dante released Ollie’s wrist, and the bite closed so fast that Ollie’s brows flew up, knocking him out of his lust-induced daze. Part of Ollie still couldn’t believe magic was real or that Dante had healed him, but seeing his wound disappear banished his uncertainty.

Soft pants brought Ollie’s attention back to Dante, who gave him a shy, unsteady smile. “We’re mates.”

“We are.” Ollie grinned back. He could feel the change inside him. All the uncanniness had dissolved, leaving no doubt this was all real. He hadn’t died. He felt more alive than he ever had.

He wanted to rip the towels away and beg Dante to fuck him, then fuck Dante in turn until they were both dripping with cum.

But that wasn’t what friends did. Under normal circumstances, Ollie wouldn’t even be sitting on Dante’s lap. The lines he’d drawn weren’t arbitrary.

Ollie’s erection deflated as all the reasons he’d kept Dante at a distance crashed through him. He needed space. Needed to remember he was his own person, with his own priorities. But was he? He was linked to Dante. Via magic. How had he not realized what that meant until now?

A connection like this could consume Ollie. It already had. His feelings weren’t his own. His urges confused him. Who was he? He didn’t get horny over blood play. How could he live like this and not get lost in Dante’s world?

“Hey.” Dante shifted Ollie off his lap and onto the couch. “It’s all right.”

Oh shit, Dante could tell Ollie was freaking out. He could feel Ollie’s emotions. Practically read his mind. Dante could influence him without even trying.

“The bond is what we make it, Ollie.” Dante repeated his earlier words much more firmly. “I’m not asking any more of you than I did this morning.”

Fuck, he could tell exactly where Ollie’s thoughts had gone. “You might not be asking, but this isn’t something that happens between normal friends, Dante. You know what I’m thinking.”

“We’ll learn to close off that part of the connection.

Think of it like meditating or clearing your mind.

We’ll practice, and it’ll become second nature.

You won’t have to share more than you want to.

” Dante seemed one hundred percent confident it was that simple, his conviction lending calm to the situation.

Ollie needed to relax. Take this one step at a time.

He took a deep, shuddering breath to clear his head, but it didn’t work. None of this worked. Dante’s calming presence dulled Ollie’s worry but couldn’t banish it. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be your mate even though I don’t date or do relationships?”

“Yes,” Dante said vehemently, looking unblinking into Ollie’s eyes. “Our bond can be platonic. It’s ours. It suits us, not the other way around.”

“You won’t regret bonding with me?” What would happen if Dante met someone he’d rather be mates with? This wasn’t like marriage. There was no divorce.

Shit, he was more than married. To Dante. As friends.

“I won’t regret this.” Dante sounded so sure Ollie almost believed him. “How could I? I’d never let you die.”

“Okay.” Ollie tried for a light smile like his pulse wasn’t pounding. How was Dante this understanding and accommodating? “Don’t tell Dex, but you might be my best friend now.”

Dante returned his smile. “He can still be your best friend. Being mated doesn’t change your other relationships.”

Ollie supposed he couldn’t tell Dex any of this regardless. None of his friends would believe him. Except, apparently, Harper. Which reminded him. “What were you saying about Harper? With…Lucifer?” The name tasted bad on his tongue, sending a jolt of fear through him.

Dante’s smile faded. “There’s a lot to tell you. Harper is a witch—a person who possesses magic. He’s Ash’s mate.”

“They mated? Like did the bond?” Harper’s relationship had gone even faster than Ollie had realized.

“Yes. Harper knew Ash was a demon and chose to mate with him. It was different for Harper to learn all this. He already knew demons and vampires existed.”

“Right, sure, vampires.” Ollie felt like he’d stepped through the looking glass. “Of course there’s vampires. What about werewolves?”

“No.” Dante bit back a smile. “No shifters. Demons, witches, and vampires are the only magical beings.”

“But you said there were Eternals? And Lucifer, is he a demon?” He seemed evil enough, which didn’t make sense, given Dante said demons weren’t evil.

Again, Dante sensed exactly where Ollie’s mind had gone. “The real Lucifer’s story isn’t the one in the Bible. There is no Heaven and Hell, though we do refer to the Realm of the Damned as Hell sometimes.”

“That’s not confusing,” Ollie grumbled.

Dante let out a short laugh. “To make a long story short, a group of Eternals, led by Lucifer, fell from the Eternal Realm—the afterlife where human souls go to reincarnate—and things didn’t go as we’d planned.

We came to Earth without permission and will never be allowed back home.

Lucifer let magic seep into humanity, giving rise to witches.

That wasn’t supposed to happen. The Realm of the Damned was created for witch souls after death because they can’t reincarnate.

It’s not a Hell to punish sinners, and ‘Heaven’ isn’t for the righteous.

It’s about magic, mortality, and the cycle of human life. ”

Ollie narrowed his eyes. “Right.” So, apparently, reincarnation was a thing. Way to drop that bombshell so casually. Ollie shook his head. “So if Hell isn’t for sinners, why is Lucifer evil?”

Dante seemed at a loss for words. He turned and gazed out the window for a long moment.

“He isn’t evil. Or no more evil than any person who decides to do terrible things.

It’s not innate. Lucifer was once like a brother to Ash, Onyx, and me, but he betrayed us.

I don’t know what’s brought on his recent changes, but he’s gotten worse.

Even after everything he did to us over the years, I thought there was a line he wouldn’t cross. I was wrong. ”

Ollie’s head spun. He would have to sleep on this, but there was one more thing he had to ask. “How long ago was the fall? You were there with Lucifer? Ash too?”

Dante nodded. “It was around two thousand years ago, give or take a few centuries. Eternal beings don’t generally keep track of age in years, so if you’re about to ask how old I am, let’s say I was in the Eternal Realm for a similar length of time before falling.”

“Huh.” Ollie let that wash over him.

He was tied to an Eternal being. An immortal from another realm who had witnessed history and wielded magic. How was Ollie ever going to keep his independence? He was no one in the face of who Dante was. In a sense, they were one, and Ollie could see everything in him yielding to Dante.

If Ollie could have seen this coming, he’d have said a mating bond was ten—no, a million—times worse than taking the risk of getting into a relationship. But he hadn’t seen it coming and hadn’t had a choice.