Page 1 of Fated In Forever (Nocturne Vampire Clan #4)

EVANGELINE GRAVES

M y father claimed there were only two types of vampires.

The good ones—which were already dead—and the evil ones we were hunting.

My father’s claim was wrong, as he’d been wrong about everything else, but some lessons stuck with you, especially the ones reinforced with fists.

My childhood aside, I kept a knife in my hand as I studied the patrol of strange, distrustful vampires guarding Malachi and I, the ones our very lives depended on, wondering why he had brought me to a heavily fortified Irish compound that looked straight out of a fairytale.

Brendan Thorne, he murmured in my head, as if that name explained everything.

But that didn’t tell me why we were here, surrounded by a heavily armed, trigger-happy squad of blue uniformed Knightsguard, weapons rattling, hearts racing, the scent of their fear clogging the cool air with a sourness that choked the optimism right out of me.

Nikolai strolled nonchalantly ahead of us, sun glinting off his blond hair, no hint of alarm as he escorted me—armed, soaking wet and in the middle of a nervous breakdown—and a bare-assed, eight-foot monster toward the castle like we were expected for afternoon tea .

Then again, he might have seen this all before.

He was a bona fide Elder, after all, and his power was something I’d never experienced before…and never wanted to again.

Crushed beneath wave after wave of his magic, I reminded myself to keep breathing and not collapse into a ball of weepy, quivering flesh.

Elder power was the kind that carved out your insides and left you hollow and with every step, Nikolai’s influence became more oppressive, like a weight pressing down on me, until every step was heavy and hard.

Behind me, nudging me along, Malachi moved with that same immortal ease, his magic—darker, wilder—warring with Nikolai’s, like they were locked in some silent battle, leaving me shivering in my wet clothes, still smeared with dirt and blood and reeking of whatever residual magic was in that godawful pool.

Honestly, I’d be lucky if I didn’t end up with a staph infection.

Looming head and impressively wide shoulders over everyone else, naked as the day he was re-born, Malachi kept one paw firmly clamped over my shoulder as we followed Nikolai into Laith Castle.

Out of the corner of my eye, those long black talons gleamed like a fistful of knives, sharp points carefully resting against the tattered fabric of my shirt, heat from his body surrounding me like a warm blanket, a welcome comfort in this otherwise grim situation.

The world was ending, he was a monster, and I was… different .

I wasn’t exactly sure what changed, but even my soul felt stained by Ravok’s unholy spell.

Not in any way I could readily identify, but my magic felt darker, my blood colder, my bones more brittle. On the outside, I was the same, but inside…I snuck a glance up at Malachi.

Something from that ritual had rubbed off on me.

Maybe I hadn’t so much as disrupted Malachi’s transformation…as become part of it.

But my personal problems would have to wait.

That mountain was leaking magic and Blake and Rohr needed backup. Ravok had to be stopped, and for that, we needed allies. Strong allies. Like the kind with well trained, organized Knightsguard and fortified, warded compounds.

Stepping inside the castle was like going back in time, where aged gray stone walls were softened by new blue and silver tapestries, matching banners hanging from the enormous hand-hewn timbers cradling a soaring ceiling, the rarified atmosphere awe inspiring and humbling at the same time.

Are you sure about this ? I asked Malachi, mind to mind, as we were marched like prisoners down the wide corridor.

Brendan Thorne is the only vampire I trust and he has a very specific skillset.

If anyone can unravel this spell, it’s him.

His amber gaze kept flicking over to Nikolai, strolling along like we weren’t all in the presence of an eight-foot-tall creature who could erase us with one flick of a black-taloned finger.

I would never harm you, Evangeline . Malachi grumbled inside my head, why do you insult me so?

I reached up and patted his hand. Stop being a drama queen. That was just a figure of speech. Why is this Nikolai acting so calm after we told him about Ravok? And I thought all the other Elders were dead?

So did I. The rumor was they were killed, fighting against this very clan.

Well, your intel was faulty, then.

Apparently, which is even more reason to speak to Brendan .

“You may wait in here.” Nikolai ushered us into a cavernous room off the main hall, his easy smile doing nothing to reassure me. Especially with the way Commander Finn watched us with narrowed eyes, his guards lining the walls, seconds away from getting all stabby.

“My mate is locating Brendan, they should arrive any moment. I expect Aisling will find you some clothing, you are soaked to the skin.”

“I’m fine.” I didn’t much care about wet clothes, not when the world was on the brink of ending.

I took a long look around the imposing space, the enormous crystal chandeliers and walls covered in battered war memorabilia; the ornate throne perched on a dais at the head of the room.

This reminded me too much of Tyrell’s gaudy castle, of the pomp and power vampires craved as thirstily as blood, of everything I despised about my new species.

“Perhaps, but your friend…” Nikolai frowned at Malachi, flicked his finger and a swirl of black shadow encased Malachi’s lower half, masking everything from the waist down. “There,” Nikolai smirked at Commander Finn. “Now you won’t feel so… inconsequential .”

I blinked. Did an Elder just make a… dick joke ?

“You can fuck all the way off, Prince Pain-In-My-Ass.” Finn flipped him the bird, his blue eyes narrowing on Malachi. “It takes more than that to threaten my masculinity, when it’s you who can’t …”

“We don’t have time for this,” I rubbed my aching temples. “We’re wasting time when we should be stopping the ley line leaking magic. It’s causing a…” I looked to Malachi.

A rift. The leaking magic is causing a rift, one that is large enough to cause this realm to collapse in on itself .

“A rift,” I clarified. “If we don’t do something, this realm will collapse and trust me, Ravok would love nothing more. He’s a burning bridges kind of guy.”

“Well, that’s not dramatic or anything.” Finn muttered, finally sheathing his weapon. “I swear, it’s always fucking something around here. I’d give anything for a few days off.”

Nikolai closed his eyes and I wondered if he was praying for strength or deciding to kill the both of us and bury us out back when two more vampires materialized into the room.

One blond, one dark haired, both of them stripped to the waist, splattered with blood and oozing the same power as Nikolai. Baring incisors the size of my fingers, Malachi stepped in front of me, and the dark-haired vampire threw his head back and laughed.

More Elders? Impossible. If the circumstances weren’t so dire, I might have chuckled at the indignant frustration in Malachi’s voice, like somehow, he’d been purposely left out of the group chat.

Your intel was definitely faulty, my friend, I thought back, gripping my pathetic little knife tighter, though a hell of a lot of good that would do me, especially when the dark-haired vampire raked his eyes up and down my body in deliberate provocation, then looked pointedly at the eight-foot monster in the room, like he wanted to fight.

Maybe he was tired of being alive, who knew?

“ Dravin .” Nikolai’s voice hardened, like they’d had this conversation a hundred times already. “ Enough . They’ve been given the clan’s protection and Aisling will have your head if you so much as step out of line. I know you don’t fear me, but you know better than to risk her wrath.”

That fast, aggression faded from Dravin’s stance and his expression shuttered at that name— Ash-leen. Some of the tightness eased off my chest, even though Malachi still seemed to be debating drenching the throne room in blood.

Seriously, this place could use some color.

“Wolf, Dravin, head to Chateau des Ombres éternelles, take stock of the situation, then report back.” He pinned the darker haired vampire with a look cold enough to strip off skin. “Do not engage, do not start a war, observe only and come straight back. Do not eat anyone.”

I was still hung up on the not-eating-anyone directive when they vanished, Nikolai blowing out a long-suffering sigh as he turned his attention back to us. “I apologize for my friend’s boorish behavior, he’s still learning the ways of this world. Brendan should arrive any moment, and...”

His whole face softened, a genuine smile tilting up his lips as a beautiful, tattooed female and an older male hurried in, arms linked, eyes widening as they got a load of their visitors.

Yup. Surprise .

“Aisling. There you are.” Nikolai’s entire face lit up, as if his entire world revolved around her. “We have some unexpected guests. With Rowan gone, I thought bringing them inside quickly would be prudent.”

“Good call. I can only imagine the questions, otherwise.” She stepped into his arms and I admired the casual familiarity between them, the way he brushed his lips across the top of her dark hair, how she laid one hand over his chest.

I wasn’t sure who she was, but Aisling was stunning.

Voluptuous in a way I would never be and confident—also in a way I would never be—her round face was dusted with freckles, tilted gray eyes widening the moment they landed on Malachi.

The older male—Brendan Thorne, I assumed—was still powerfully built, with gray at his temples and short hair that barely brushed his collar .

Someone used to wielding authority; the way Riordan did.

A shiver of unease went through me as I studied him, wondering what was so special about him. I couldn’t trust anyone, shouldn’t trust anyone, and my instincts warned me to stay on high alert, knife in hand, magic—what little I had left—ready to cast.

Then Brendan’s eyes met mine. There was nothing in them but kindness, a gentle kind of concern, like a father might show his child, and that tightness around my heart loosened, my sweaty palms still sweaty but a lot less shaky. Maybe that is hope I’m feeling.

Maybe Malachi was right to bring us here. Maybe Brendan could turn him back into…him.

Of course he can, otherwise, why bother?

Why bother, indeed.

“Ash, this is Malachi Draven and…?” Nikolai lifted his brow and it belatedly occurred to me I’d never introduced myself. And that was when I realized the issue of my problematic last name.

A slayer amongst suspicious vampires definitely put me firmly in the shoot-first-ask-questions-later camp, and I would very much like to avoid injury right now, when there were a thousand other things that could go wrong.

If they so much as blink, I’ll tear their heads from their bodies. Malachi projected an incredibly graphic, bloody scene into my head.

“Uhm, that is so not helpful right now.” I slanted him a warning look, then remembered I didn’t have to give myself away to these strangers after all. “Evangeline Marten Graves.”

Aisling tilted her head to the side, Brendan giving me a look that very clearly said— both of them ? And then all the attention in the room slid off me and onto the monster in the room.

“Well. If it isn’t Malachi Draven, back from the dead.” Brendan crossed his arms over his chest, deep lines bracketing his frown as he shook his head. “Care to explain why you had the nerve to show your face here, when I made it clear what would happen if I ever saw you again?”

Let me guess . He’s going to kill you? I glanced up at Malachi, and even in this form, he somehow managed to look unrepentant for his crimes.

And I was sure there had been many, many crimes.

It was a misunderstanding, he said stiffly. But…yes, that was the gist of it.

You do realize pissing off every last member of the species only makes it harder for us to find allies? I mean, at this point, I’d be shocked to meet someone you haven’t double crossed or betrayed.

Well, if it matters at all, I’ve never met Aisling, so perhaps there’s still hope.