Page 10 of Fated In Forever (Nocturne Vampire Clan #4)

MALACHI

A ccording to my brother, I’d been born a fool, and here at the end, perhaps I’d become a fool again, because in these last hours, I’d started hoping for the impossible.

For Brendan’s ritual to actually work.

For this transformation to fade, for me to regain my mortal body.

And lacking that, to picture a life with Vicious, where our differences were eclipsed by the love we had for each other. But the moment Graves and Marten reappeared, seeing how eagerly she threw herself into their arms, seeing how well they all fit together, that hope withered away.

The transformation was accelerating.

I could feel darkness leaching into the marrow of my bones, a cold fire that spread through my veins like midnight shadows.

Each heartbeat brought me closer to something that was no longer human, no longer myself.

The ritual Brendan was about to perform might buy me time—precious hours, perhaps a day if I was lucky—but would, in the end, be nothing more than a finger plugged into a dam, holding back the inevitable flood.

And Evie deserved better.

She deserved a life with males who would cherish and love her .

We left the Shadowsend King—Rowan Forge, who was none too happy about having a monster in his castle—his queen and the other two Elders—who’d gotten their asses handed to them by Ravok and Romulus—in the entryway and followed Brendan up three flights of stairs and down a dizzying number of hallways.

The room was secure enough. A large, open chamber with practice dummies lined up against the far wall and row after row of weapons stacked together in deadly piles.

Evangeline, Blake and Riordan lined one wall, while Brendan made a show of arranging everything on a table, Evie shooting me a lopsided smile as we mentally bantered over that night at Tyrell’s, then a few minutes later, Finn Forge and his brother Rowan straggled in, curious and apprehensive, followed by Nikolai and Aisling.

“Now that everyone is here, go stand over there, at the center of the circle, where the runes are etched into the floor.” Brendan looked harried, and while I should just call this whole thing off, part of me was just as curious to see what happened next. “Yes, that’s exactly the right place.”

I felt like a creature on display in a zoo, and the room stank of spilled blood and bleach, of too many hours spent scrubbing floors, and barely restrained violence.

Fucking perfect.

The irony was, nothing was going to fix me, but because I was mortal, and obviously wishing the impossible was one of nature’s cruel little jokes, I dutifully stood where Brendan pointed me, let him go through the motions of setting up an overly complicated ritual.

Even though I knew this would never work.

But there was the off chance it might , and there was the rub .

Back in my day, we would have winged it and hoped for the best, but these days, it was all about presentation.

The table was littered with bags of black salt and an ancient spell book, with chunks of obsidian carved with runes.

My gaze kept drifting to Evangeline, to her faint, trembling smile that grew fainter by the moment until disappearing completely, to the steel in Riordan’s gaze that slowly turned to realization, to Blake’s quiet, seething temper that finally fizzled out after the two males shared a short mind-to-mind conversation.

About me, no doubt.

That’s right. Soon enough, I’ll be gone and you’ll have her all to yourselves again. That had to make them happy.

I’d have to time this perfectly. I couldn’t risk a repeat of what had happened in the underground chamber, couldn’t risk Evangeline harming herself further under the guise of saving me.

I could not be saved.

I would not be saved.

No, if Brendan managed to break our bond, if he managed to keep his word, I would transform completely into the demi-god known as Orcus and that transformation would have one of two outcomes.

The transformation might kill me—or I’d become strong enough to finally take on Ravok and win. Grind him into pulp beneath my magic and all my years of accumulated hate. But even if that future came to fruition, there was the matter of what happened next.

One way or another, I had to die .

My gaze fixed on Evangeline, pale and quiet, her eyes dark, watery smudges. I’d made her promise to kill me. Made her swear an oath, in the heat of a moment long past, something I bitterly regretted .

She had already endured enough. She would never bear that burden.

And Riordan Graves, noble to the core, would hesitate, but Marten…Marten was a born killer, a pragmatist who would do what needed doing.

My eyes focused on Blake as Brendan began to chant, a phantom breeze stirring the piles of dust and straw in the corners of the training room.

If this ritual works, your mate will be free of me. I will turn fully into Orcus, instead of this half-formed creature you see before you. Once that happens, while I still have my mind, you need to get me close to Ravok.

And then?

Then I will finish what I should have finished a long time ago.

Done . Blake dipped his head, ever the obedient dog, his eyes never leaving mine. “And then?” he mouthed, across the room.

And then you will kill me. Evangeline is in possession of a book and a key.

Inside the book is the means to end my life.

Do not lose your will, do not hesitate, do not let her talk you out of this.

I have no wish to live out my days as a mindless monster in some iron cage, surviving on scraps.

Once Ravok is dead, kill me quick and for fuck’s sake, make it decisive.

He sliced his head to the side and it was done. Clean, neat, a better ending than I deserved, after everything.

The breeze became a wind, whipping my hair, dragging across my skin like razorblades.

The symbols etched into the worn granite floor pulsed with an eerie light, their power pressed against my skin like ice-cold fingers.

Brendan Thorne circled me with the practiced grace of a male who’d done this a hundred times, his fingers trailing over the lit candles—for show only—and the ancient tome laid open on the hastily arranged table—also a worthless prop—as he murmured ancient words of an unbinding spell that may have very well worked.

If the cosmic magic joining Vicious and I hadn’t been birthed from the bowels of time itself.

If I didn’t have one foot in this realm, and my other… somewhere else .

His chanting turned sluggish, the air in the room grew thick and oppressive, and I felt something tugging at the edges of my consciousness—trying to pull away the part of me that belonged to Evangeline.

I tried to let it go. Tried to pry that bond out of me, like a coin from a beggar’s hand, pain lancing through my skull, my teeth grit tight as I dug and ripped at those fragile, golden links connecting us.

But as the chanting grew louder, I realized those golden threads weren’t breaking—they were growing brighter, stronger.

Thorne's voice faltered as he noticed, too. The floor beneath my feet began to crack, hairline fractures spreading across its ancient surface like a spider's web as I crashed to my knees.

“Impossible,” Brendan hissed, rearing back, “The bond... it's too strong.”

Despite the pain, I had to smile. “Did you really think some dusty old ritual could break what Evangeline and I have? What we share spans lifetimes, bridges generations, has been forged to last forever.”

“ No ,” Vicious lunged forward, was almost to the edge of the circle when Blake caught her, arms banded around her stomach and dragged her back. “I don’t want this bond broken. I want Malachi back to his mortal self, so this bullshit ritual has to stop . ”

Her eyes met mine, filled with so much fury and accusation I had to look away, throat burning, heart hurting, chest so tight I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t face her pain, even when I knew a clean break now was for the best, because a future bound to me held something far worse than heartbreak. Even so, watching her suffer tore me to pieces. I could have stopped this, could have sentenced her to torment and sorrow.

Instead, I directed all my fury at Brendan. “Try again, Thorne. Put in some real effort this time,” I sneered, hating myself just a little more.

His eyes flashed with outrage, a hum of angry murmuring kicked up between Rowan, the king, his brother, Nikolai and Aisling. “Then we'll try something else. Something more... direct.”

This time, when he began to chant, the words were different—harsher, more guttural.

The first vampire unbinding spell. I'd heard this only once before—was surprised to hear the words spill from between Brendan’s lips, but a spark of hope ignited.

This was a piece of arcane magic so dangerous that most considered it forbidden.

The air itself recoiled from the incantation, smoke rising from the carved symbols on the floor.

Agony unlike anything I'd ever experienced tore through me.

Like someone was reaching into my chest and trying to rip out my heart with barbed wire. Good, break this bond, set her free . The connection to Evangeline wavered, flickering like a candle in a hurricane. For one terrifying, exhilarating moment, I thought his ridiculous ritual was working.

But then I felt her .

Pouring her strength back into our bond, her love blazing like a beacon in the darkness .

Get her out of here . I thought to Riordan, Blake, anyone who would listen. Get her out .

Blake tried, but Vicious fought, yanking out of his hold, hissing words I could not hear before taking up her place again, arms crossed over her chest. Thorne's chanting grew more frantic, sweat beading on his pale forehead despite the chill in the chamber.

He reached into his coat again, this time producing a vial that glowed like blue, liquid starlight.

“A very special blood,” he panted. “Distilled from outside of this realm. If this doesn't sever your bond, nothing will.”

He uncorked the vial and poured its contents onto the etched runes. Every drop hissed when the liquid hit the salt and the air began to boil. The golden chains stretched, bent, bending at the edges as they began to break apart.

Yes. I raised my arms above my head, bent my head until my chin touched my chest. Give her back her life. Give her back her future, make me endure the pain, so she never has to hurt.

When I opened my eyes, the training room was gone. There was only Vicious and me and a world of whirling darkness around us. I’m sorry. But this is the only way.

Liar. Her smile was slow and terrifying. There’s always another way. I reject your attempt at nobility, Malachi, like I reject your attempt to get rid of me. Her lip curled, nothing but anger in those eyes. Try again. Try harder.

Then the room snapped back into place, along with our audience and Brendan’s chanting, though Vicious’ dark glare told me that moment had not been a figment of my imagination.

Thorne tried another spell, then another.

He dribbled black salt over the runes, then white.

Nothing worked.

I looked at him through the acrid smoke and smiled with genuine pity. You tried, Brendan, and for that, I am truly grateful. I sighed. Breaking something like this is like changing the pull of the moon on the tides. You might as well try to stop the sunrise.

The candles had burned down to nothing but pools of wax imbedded in the salt. I stared at the ritual circle, at the scattered herbs and crystals that should have worked.

“Fuck.” Brendan muttered. “This is humiliating. I’ve never failed before.”

Nikolai crouched down at the edge of the circle, his golden eyes scanning the runes, the salt, the wax before locking on mine, his voice echoing through my head.

I might know how to break the bond, but there is risk involved. Great risk, both to you…and your female. There was a tension in his posture. He knew something—I could feel it in the careful way he chose his words.

Brendan cleared his throat, his weathered face was grave as he exchanged a meaningful look with Nikolai—another secret passing between them I wasn't privy to. “There might be another way,” Brendan said carefully, his Irish accent thick with something I couldn't name. Regret, perhaps.

Evie looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”

Nikolai's jaw tightened, and that familiar flutter of unease stirred in my stomach.

“He was changed in the waters of an ancient magic that predates our kind. To heal him,” Nikolai explained, “he'll need to return to the source.”

“The pool,” Brendan said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh no.” Evie was looking between them like they’d lost their minds. “We can’t go back there.”

I fully, one hundred percent agreed with her, but I also understood the logic .

“That’s not happening,” Riordan insisted. “The room…that pool is buried, beneath an entire mountain. Magic is leaking from the ley line, there’s a rift above it big enough to swallow up the mountain and everything on it.”

“This will require your blood, Evangeline,” Nikolai said, the words seeming to tear themselves from his throat.

“Your blood is the key to reversing the spell. But you need all the components. The pool, the portal, the magic from the ley line. Combining them all together is the only way to reverse this.”

The room went very quiet. Even the wind outside seemed to hold its breath.

“My blood ?” Evie repeated slowly, straightening her shoulders, that familiar stubbornness tightening her jaw. “Fine. You have it, so long as you swear to restore him, and that is the only thing you change.”

I had so many fantasies , she grumbled inside my head. You’d better not die before I get to live them out, or I will kick your ass, I swear I will.