Page 12 of Of Blackened Blood (The Blackened Blade #3)

MALLYN

T he brown bag rustles in my hands as I make my way toward the abattoir; the smell of Daina’s specialty apple pie and five warm paninis have even my stomach growling. Micai will be pleased.

Yesterday had been a busy day. Most of it had been spent going back and forth talking about our plans on how to tackle this shadowy group, The Facility.

Creed also took his head out of his ass and finally saw Micai for what she is and could be. An indispensable member to our group. And one of us.

Creed gave Micai a breakdown of our businesses and future plans.

He kept it as brief as possible, telling her how we plan to take down the corrupt systems and the Council that’s currently in rule.

And about how we’ve worked in the shadows, moving our people into place and helping where we can, while extending our own reach and power.

Micai’s cute, widened eyes and surprised expression had a smile growing on my lips. She said we seemed more “mafia-like” than the “dark–Robin Hood type.” Then a soft smile traced her lips as she looked to each of us and said that it seemed to strangely suit us too, though.

The gentle look and affection in her eyes had something warm spreading throughout me. And even stirring within my beast.

But we weren’t doing it for some noble reason. We weren’t the “Robin Hoods” in her mind. And we had to make that clear to her.

It all aligned with taking our revenge, each thread connecting one way or another back to the corrupt systems ruling our communities. And we would unravel them one by one before tearing them all down.

I worried that maybe Micai wouldn’t understand or like that, that she wouldn’t want to be involved in the dark and bloody plans we had, that she wouldn’t be able to accept us anymore if she knew ... but she took to it better than any of us expected.

Her gaze was steady and steely as she nodded her approval and voiced her understanding. “ We all have our pasts. Those that made the mistake to hurt you should suffer and pay the price too. It’s only fair.”

Her blue eyes gleamed dark with something neither me nor my beast liked. A memory of something from her past that she needed revenge for.

And I would happily lend every hand, and every bloody blade I have to make sure she gets it.

My wolf growls in my mind, his own thoughts in agreement with my own.

My footsteps slow, my mind falling to him . My beast.

I used to push him down, wanting to bury him deep within me and never let him loose.

I hated the endless blood he would spill and the bloodthirst I constantly felt from him.

And I hated waking up after he broke through my control with no memory of what happened, only blood dripping from my hands and mouth.

But now it’s no longer like that.

Not since Micai appeared by our side. His anger and rage has calmed, and strangely, so has our hate and distrust of one another.

We agree that to protect Micai and our Pack, we have to work together.

He lets a small growl ring in my ears as I roll my eyes and begin walking again.

Our past still lingers over me, pulling me down and suffocating me at times, and I’m unsure if I’ll ever completely find peace with it.

But for Micai’s safety and happiness we can agree.

And if that means we have to get bloody and destroy everything in her path, then so be it. Let our hands and teeth be stained with blood instead of hers.

Anything for our beloved Mate.

A warm feeling spreads throughout me with that one word, a feeling of contentment following it I can only feel when I’m with her.

Everything was bleak and dark before Micai joined us; it was an endless forest so full and yet so empty at the same time, so peaceful and serene and yet so lonely.

She’s brought warmth back into my soul and light back into every passing day.

She’s made the dark forest of my life now feel bright with colour and life and filled it with hope and endless possibilities and a future I can now look forward to.

Micai isn’t the sun brightening our day, she’s the moon lighting our dark night. And whatever path she takes, even if that leads back into the darkness, we’ll follow her.

A life with her, even in an endless abyss, would seem like paradise once we’re all together.

My mind then falls to the marks on her body. I didn’t think much of them when I saw them in the forest before because me and my brothers all have our own ink. I only found them cute and thought that they suited her small frame with the shapes uniquely matching her.

But it seems to be something that she needs answers for.

So we’ll help her find them.

The Shaman that Creed invited to check Micai also arrived late last night.

We didn’t point the marks out, but she did notice them; her small wrinkling gaze focused on them as her hands slid back and forth over the black shapes on Micai’s wrists. Then she shared a look and small knowing smile with Micai.

When Micai asked about them, the old Shaman only shook her head and said they were before her time, but that they held something powerful in them.

A sigh leaves my lips. Shamans are always too damn cryptic and vague, only ever giving half answers.

She then made Micai swallow a couple bowls of sludge-like brown and green medicines—ones that clearly weren’t to Micai’s taste, if her cutely scrunched nose and wincing blue eyes were anything to go by.

The Shaman left moments later with Ezra taking her number and asking her discreetly more questions about Micai’s health while showing her out.

But unfortunately—even with one of the oldest Shamans around—we still didn’t gain any new answers about Micai’s marks.

From what Micai said, her strength and abilities seem to grow with the appearance of each new piece on her body.

If it’s something that’s making her healthy and strong, then I’m more than happy to watch them grow. But I don’t want her to worry about it either.

There has to be someone who knows something, or a record left behind of them somewhere. And if there is, we’ll find it for her.

But those black blades that she summoned from the ones on her wrists ... I’ve never seen anything like that before.

I’ve seen warlocks and witches summon beasts and weapons, but not like that. They use incantations and magic circles but this ... there was no magic surrounding Micai.

Both me and my beast agree ... it was something else.

Those strangely curved black blades came from the marks on her wrists, forming into the sharpest metal I’ve ever seen.

They sliced through flesh and concrete with ease and responded to Micai’s movements, like they were connected and in sync.

I don’t know of any existing supe species that can do that.

Either way, Micai seems to be growing stronger and more powerful by the day. It makes both me and my beast proud and honoured to be chosen as her Mate.

Micai is the most beautiful and amazing women we have ever known ... it’s a pity that others don’t see it.

When she recalled her past, giving us little snippets about her half-sister and the bracelet ... it had taken everything in me not to join the beast as he raged and thrashed inside of me, to not let him loose to hunt down her sister and anyone who had hurt her.

I knew she had a past; that it wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine. She wore a look in her eyes sometimes; one that reflects mine and my brothers too closely. A look that showed something else lurking behind those warm stares and soft smiles, something dark and painful. And best buried or forgotten.

She hasn’t told us everything fully yet, but we can all feel it; her home life was probably closer to ours than any of us would like or want for her. I had hoped at least her family would be the exception.

I push down the voice ringing repeatedly in my ears. “ Family.”

My family wasn’t a “normal” one. We looked pristine and perfect on the outside, a quintessential clan that supported each other. But behind closed doors, the souls in that house were more corroded and emptier than any other.

There is no warmth or happiness in my memories, no safe place to be or return to, and no place there to call my own or “home.”

They never wanted me there anyway. I was a blemish on their record, their fake facade. My beast didn’t exactly follow orders or play in their performances, and I was tired of it all too.

If it wasn’t for his immense power, they probably wouldn’t have put up with me for as long as they did either. I would have been better off if they didn’t.

It was a cold existence, and a dark and miserable life, before I met Creed and my brothers.

Family isn’t a word I would ever associate with the Blaire Clan, only a hard, dark abyss that cared about power and status. It was a shelter when I was young and nothing more.

Family. Pack. That’s what I have now.

And if the attack from a few days ago is by this group called The Facility, then we’ll hunt them down until they’re completely obliterated.

At first Creed thought Micai’s story was a joke, an old fairy tale being rehashed for fun.

But I could see it in Micai’s gaze with the way her eyes glossed over, with how her face fell ashen and pale, and with the slight tremor and panic working its way into her hands as she spoke.

That wasn’t the expression or movements of someone playing a joke.

It was the look of someone remembering something they fear, something dark and painful.

Micai’s worry was real. And I think even Creed understood that when she finally finished talking. His clenched fist and narrowed gaze weren’t aimed toward Micai. It was his anger and frustration building inside him.

I know my brother. And I’m positive he was feeling the same as the rest of us around that table as we listened to her.

Someone hurt Micai. Someone made her suffer to the point she shrank low in her chair— even surrounded by all of us —with just the memory of it.