Page 10

JACOB

e are only a day away from the castle, but there are still a few more people I need to talk to in the city. The witches said my mother wanted to rule the vampires. I am curious how. She hates them. The most logical conclusion is that she wants to control them and make them her slaves, but having power like that requires resources that not many have access to. I need to learn where she could get such things.

The vampires should not be following us this close to Adrian’s castle. I couldn’t be too cautious, so I got the safest hotel I could. Clara, the owner of the Inn, is known for catering to those with very specific needs. Those people pay good money to keep away from curious eyes. That is why she’s strict about who she allows to enter her establishment. There are also a few demon guards working there. They are sensitive to the smell of vampires, but Clara assured me that her men would not come after Izzy.

Tengu is with her as well. She will be fine.

The sun is setting, but it’s still warm when I search through the crowd of the town center for a man whom I was told looks like ‘a massive ogre with a beard’. As described, a large man with a protruding belly and a bush of hair on his face is sitting on a bench, his arm resting on the back of it.

Werewolves and their bears. I smirk, amused by the stereotype.

I sit next to him and suddenly feel very uncomfortable with his towering size. Not that I worry he can hurt me, I just don’t like how he hovers over me. It’s unnerving. Plus, with his belly, it feels like I’m too close to him. I get up and rest my knee on the edge of the bench instead. He laughs at me, his voice deep and low.

At least the wolf is good-natured.

“What do you know about the spell to control a large group of beings?” I watch the people passing by.

It is getting late, but it is still busy. The cities by the castles are all like this – packed and bustling. A few bystanders glance at him, but he only offers small nods and jolly smiles.

“Well, let’s just say that lots of hearts from werewolves are required, a few more from vampires, a feather of an angel, root of Tartus –” the wolf sighs. “Sofia is on a very dark journey.” He glances at me from the side.

“How do you know it’s Sofia?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Do you know how hard it is to get the root of Tartus?” He scoffs.

Practically impossible. The tree likes to grow by volcanoes, spreading its roots over the lava rivers. Getting it means burning to a crisp. The only ones who can go there safely are the fire fairies and they don’t like anyone.

My mother is planning on enslaving the vampires. Wonderful . I grit my teeth at the aching truth. The wolf is cooperating in hopes of avoiding his kind being butchered for their hearts. I can respect that.

Damn it! Anger and grief sear my heart. The goal was to find my mother for answers. I had no expectations, but a part of mewanted her to have a good reason to leave. Somewhere deep down, I wanted her to say that she loved me. Now, I have to stop her from this madness.

“How long have you known her?” I ask. Maybe the man knows when it all started for Sofia – why is she so mad for power?

“Too long. She’s broken and confused.” The large man shakes his head.

“How so?” My brows quickly come together.

“Her parents were killed by vampires when she was young.” He sighs and looks out at the market. “She has never been the same. I think there was always something off about her, though.”

What happened to her was unfair, but it did not give her the right to murder and abandon her family.

It hurts more than I thought it would to know that my mother is a power-hungry villain. I suspected this when the witches told me about her. Still, now it is real. Clenching my jaw, I push through the doors of the Inn and hand the guard my ticket. The bar in the next room is buzzing as I march towards the stairs. Everyone is politely chatting, and no one is throwing punches. A nice change for me.

I skip the dark wood stairs, rushing to our room. We got a few books that Izzy was eyeing at the market. That probably kept her busy for a bit, but knowing how she consumes information, she is probably done with them. It’s fascinating how quickly she learns and absorbs information.

Maybe I can take her down to the bar and we can have a peaceful drink together. The aura in there is quite romantic with the music and candles – she might like it.

Fuck, I need a drink.

Swinging the doors open, I find the room empty. My heart goes into my throat, and my mind spins with all the worst scenarios. Taking a deep breath, I calm myself and focus.

“Tengu, where the fuck are you?” I snap at him through the mind link, my tone harsh.

“ In the basement .” His answer is short and quick.

Fuck! Fuck. Fuck… I bolt out of the room as fast as I possibly can. The reason why this Inn is so secure is because of the basement. Shit . The basement door is tucked away in a dark corner. I did not think Izzy would go down there. I should’ve known better; Izzy has a curious mind.

My surroundings are a blur as I run through the hall, down the stairs, and frantically search for Izzy among the locked doors. She is nowhere to be found. I keep going further, my heart racing out of control, until I reach a wide, arched opening with a small table behind it.

The room is cozily decorated, but all I can concentrate on is Izzy sitting across from Clara, the fairy who owns that establishment. Izzy’s face is puffy, and her eyes are red.

She’s been crying . My heart shreds at the idea. Ignoring Clara, I hurry and drop on my knees in front of Izzy.

“Izzy, baby. Are you okay?” I reach to hold her face.

“I’m okay.” She smiles tenderly.

Izzy’s eyes go from me to Clara. She is healing. This place has things that could be misunderstood by someone as fragile as her. Izzy bites her lower lip and timidly looks down at me, her cheek pink. My eyes searching hers, I feel like I am missing something. I need to get her out of here.

“We should go.” I run my thumb along her cheek.

She gives me a small nod, looks behind me, and says in a quiet voice, “Thank you, Clara.”

“Come down if you want to chat some more,” Clara says, and I whip my head to glare at her.

Not a chance in hell . Izzy has been through enough.

The walk upstairs is fast as Izzy follows me silently. I have the urge to kill Tengu for letting her go down there, but I also want to know what is on her mind. Walking into our room, I exhale and try to find the words to get her to talk to me.

“I told her about my monsters,” she whispers, and without looking at me, sits in the middle of the bed, her legs crossed.

Staring at her hands, she plays with her fingers. The humiliation in her face and posture is evident. I’m not sure how to make her believe that there is nothing for her to be ashamed of, so I stay silent, my mind spinning.

“She showed me some things,” Izzy mumbles and picks at her nails.

Dammit. Her fingers can’t be that fascinating. I need to see her eyes so I can find what she’s hiding in her soul. Doing my best not to startle her, I get on the bed andsit in front of her. Placing my hands on her waist, I tug at her and position her on my lap. She gasps, parting her legs to straddle me, her eyes never meeting mine.

“What did she show you?” I take her hands and move them up around my neck. She looks up, her eyes locking on mine. Uncertainty floats in those beautiful greens, but I wait for her to answer. She doesn’t. “Izzy, talk to me, baby.” I place my palm on her cheek.

“She said that the people down there go to the basement for healing. The pain helps them…” she mumbles and looks down. Shit . In a way, yes. There is so much more to it, though. “I want to heal.” Her voice breaks, and I think my heart does as well.

If she wants to experiment in the basement, I won’t stop her, but I don’t think I can handle another man touching her. It burns my chest just thinking about that.

“Do you want to go down there to have someone –” I inhale, struggling to ask the question.

Her head shoots up quickly with her eyes wide. “No,” she answers quickly. Thank God… “I was wondering…” she starts, her hands twitching around my neck.

“Yes?” I encourage her.

“How much do you know about things like that?” Her voice is small and timid.

A lot. The possessiveness and control that makes one feel alive, the ability to give away freedom to someone to escape, or the ecstasy one can feel after rough play in a safe place. It is all a matter of trust, understanding, and respect.

This is a fine line I need to tread lightly on. I’m not sure if she is asking if I am as dark as those men in the basement or if I am aware of why that place exists.

“I know some things.” Leaning my face closer to hers, I ask, “What do you want to know?”

“Well… Um…” she starts and tries to look away, but I hold her steady. “Me and you…” she tries again, her cheeks turning red quickly.

Watching her struggle to find words is amusing, but it worries me that she is jumping into this too quickly. She wants to heal. This may not be the right thing for her, and I do not want to hurt her further. Groaning, she drops her forehead on my chest, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“What about me and you?” I ask and rub small circles on her lower back.

“What…” she mumbles and lets out a heavy sigh. “Never mind. I’m sorry I brought it up. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Her voice is so small that it makes my chest ache.

Damn it . I groan internally and wince, bracing myself for a difficult conversation.

“What do you think of when you think about sex?” It is a direct question that’s needed to get to the bottom of what she is looking for. She has been through a lot, and everyone copes differently.

“You,” she breathes out as her head snaps up, eyes wide and lips parted.

The hand I have on her hip tightens, and the urge to crush my lips on her rushes over like a violent wave. Pride and joy fill my chest as I restrain myself from running my hands all over her body.

Fine line , I remind myself.

“All right,” I whisper, brushing my lips against her neck. “What do you feel when you imagine me hovering over you?”

“I like it. You keep me safe.”

The answer is simple, sinking its claws into my heart.

“What about pinning your wrists?” I venture a little further.

She shivers and sharply takes a breath in.

“I would ask for more,” she whispers.

My lips stretch, and I place a soft kiss on the skin of her shoulder. Her breath hitches, and the tension in my groin intensifies. She extends her neck and leans her breasts into my chest. Her every reaction is bliss.

“What if you wanted to move, but I wouldn’t let you?” The question is a dangerous one. Her fingers run higher along my scalp, her breathing labored as she presses closer.

My heart hammers in my chest and my cock throbs from her responses, the need for her growing. My movement delicate, I lift the skirt to her thighs and graze my fingers along her skin. Her hot breath fans my neck when she rests her head on my shoulder, and a whimpering moan escapes her mouth.

“Speak, Izzy,” I whisper.

The words need to come out of her mouth. I have to be certain I’m not pushing too far.

“Nervous, but it makes me excited.” Her voice is laced with fear of being judged.

“What if I squeezed your ass and pulled at your hair?” I move a hand through her locks and grip it loosely.

It is a cautious taunt, but I am curious. Her hips jerk into me, and she gasps. It’s beautiful and torturous seeing her like this. Taking my hand from her thigh, I pluck her hand from my neck and hold it firmly in mine. She does not resist, her eyes locking on mine and her chest heaving. Our gaze locked, I slide our hands between her legs, pulling her underwear to the side.

Her lips parted, she inhales sharply. The moisture around her folds makes my erection twitch, the need to have her growing. Fucking hell, I want to see her cum. She sucks in a breath and moans when I press her hand against her center. Her hips buck when I move our hands back and forth.

Increasing the hold on her hair, I pull while guiding her to rub herself. Her neck extends, and the sight of her closed eyes and panting mouth sends a shiver through my bones.

I dive to her throat and run my tongue across it, licking and nibbling, tasting the sweetness of her skin. She moans through sharp breaths, her body spasming. Clenching her thighs around our hands, her head jerks forward. With a firm grip, I pull her back. I want to see her face when she is riding out this wave. She whimpers, slamming her hips into my hand.

My mind spins, and my heart fills with something magical at how much she is giving me; she is placing her fragile heart into my hands. It’s terrifying and exhilarating.

Her body shakes, her breathing settles, and her eyes weakly flutter open. She is so beautiful. Loosening my grip on her head, I bring her close and hold her tight, stroking her hair and rubbing her back. She snuggles in and rests against me – relaxed and satisfied.

A wave of relief washes over me. This was a big step. She did good.

“How do you feel?” I place my chin on her head and play with her hair.

“Like I can breathe again.” She exhales and tilts her head to look up at me.

There are stars in her eyes as she gives me a lazy smile. My heart twists and turns with pure and ecstatic joy.