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Chapter 17

Adeline

S he licked the wound, her saliva and blood mixing to close up the punctures into tiny little marks that would be hard to notice if it wasn’t for her vampire eyesight. She made sure to drink only what she needed to restore her energy, but even that left Rolf panting with desire, crazed while trying to catch his breath. He shuddered a few times and looked down at her with a look of mild surprise and…something else.

She tilted her head, opening her mouth to say something.

And then his memories flooded her vision.

Covered in blood, he woke up all alone and terrified. His head hurt tremendously, and his hands shook as he saw how much redness soaked his clothing. He patted himself down and breathed a sigh of relief when he realized it wasn’t his.

But whose? No one else was near him.

Something silver glinted in the water at his feet.

A knife.

Adeline’s eyes focused on Rolf, a question forming on her lips, and then she rocked back again with more memories.

A woman passed him on the street, pointed, and screamed, “Murderer!” He hid the knife in his boot and ran out of town. A wolf howled in the distance. Sweat broke across his brow, and his breathing turned labored as he ran into the mountainous forest at the edge of town. The bright light of the full moon cast thick shadows through the woods.

He rested against a large tree to catch his breath. His pockets were empty, and he couldn’t even remember his name.

Fear clutched her chest as she relived these moments alongside him.

Despite the blood that still coated the inside of her mouth, her tongue went dry. It weighed in her mouth like iron. She dragged it along her teeth to scrape off what felt like layers of sand. Her stomach churned, but she couldn’t stop the flood as the highlighted moments flitted in her vision.

He stumbled through the forest, the blood drying on his clothes, seeking answers for things he didn’t do. The moonlight shimmered through the ancient boughs, and he suppressed a shudder. He wasn’t afraid, merely confused and tired from running. Overhead, a falcon screeched and swooped down near his head. He ducked out of the way of its talons as it snatched a field mouse from the grass. The bird of prey flew high into the trees, and a feather floated down before him. Rolf turned to see where it had gone, but he tripped and stumbled into a small ring of moss-covered stones.

Adeline felt a sinking feeling as if she knew what would happen next. It felt familiar. She had done the same thing centuries ago with her sick sister in her arms. The stone circles were sacred places. Strange places. Where her mother had once told her, magic would sleep until called upon.

She started shaking.

Cold sweat crawled across her skin as her memories fought against Rolf’s in her head. Rolf cupped her cheek, worry lining his face. He said something, but she couldn’t hear over the roar of her heartbeat and his rushing blood through her veins. Adeline grunted and closed her eyes as another wave of images pulsed through her.

Magic filtered into his peripheral vision, the stones glowing with ancient wards. Then the shift happened. His hands changed. Fur sprouted from his ears. A low growl echoed against the rocks, and soon, his clothes were discarded, and he roared into the night.

“Adeline?” His voice sounded so far away as she swam in the whiplash of his memories.

His blood coursed through her veins. It thrummed inside her, giving her a renewed sense of strength and fury—fury at herself for letting her guard down and at him for keeping this from her.

She flipped him onto his back, her strong legs pinning him down. Shaking with rage, she grabbed him by the throat, and her sharp nails dug into the soft skin under his jaw. A droplet of his blood pooled where her claws pierced him. But he didn’t fight back; he just watched her face, keeping his expression emotionless.

Her grip tightened, and she snarled in his face. This was the last were-shifter she had been hunting, and she found herself somehow in his cabin, with his naked and gorgeous body underneath her. Gods above, she was such an idiot. How could she have fallen for someone like him? “I should kill you right here. Right now.”

He closed his eyes and exhaled as if he were saying a prayer to the Angel of Death that straddled him. “Do it. Please.”

She was tempted. Oh gods, was she tempted. It would fix everything.

But the way he begged for her to take his life gave her pause.

Instead, she tilted her head and studied him. His eyes were closed, and he looked so peaceful. What demons haunted him so that he would want to meet his end? And if she did choose to take his life, which is what her coven would want, would she be bringing him mercy?

Through the centuries, Adeline had never known a were-shifter so willing to meet his death. Or have their blood taken by a vampire. Adeline looked around the cabin, noting how sparse the decorations were. Everything personal was tucked away, like that coat in the drawer, almost as if he was ashamed to take up space. To exist.

Her stomach roiled, and she hunched over with cramping. Her claws retracted, and she loosened her grasp on his neck. Rolf’s hands slid up her thighs, her waist, and her arms until he finally cupped her face. She warmed to his touch, even though she was duty-bound to kill him on sight.

Another vision? No, just the remnants of the juniper and garlic in his blood. She shook her head against the swirling in her gut. Bending over, she rested her head against his shoulder. She inhaled, finding comfort in the scent of his skin, and…yes, there it was.

The faint musk that marked him as a were-shifter was now overpowering. She inhaled once more, and it was as if a veil had lifted; she now easily picked up the muskiness that the scent of pine and woodsmoke had masked.

She groaned internally.

How could she have missed it all this time? She was losing her edge. Desperation to find Colin had clouded her decisions once again. When would she finally wake up and realize that he was gone?

She stared down at Rolf, who didn’t even try to fight back or get her off him.

Never in her immortal life had she ever felt so conflicted about a kill. It was obvious she had a connection with him, one that she had sworn she’d never feel with another after Colin. But her freedom was on the line, and she hated the idea of going back to the abuse and suffocating lifestyle under Erik.

Of course, he is the were-shifter. Why would any of this have been easy?

She figured she could refuse to hand him over. The worst her coven would do would be to lock her up again. Torture her with withdrawal. Let Erik warp her mind all over again. Retrain her like he’d had to do so many times before. She was always the obstinate one; why change their expectations now?

You weak-minded, licentious bloodsucker.

“I have been killing your kind for decades,” she said without a hint of venom.

“I know.”

Her hand tightened again on his throat, drawing a few more drops of blood. She spat out, “You are a deceptive, manipulative beast.”

“I know.” He sighed.

Did he not have any fight in him at all? She was used to heated battles against his kind, used to walking away with at least several broken bones, but she always came out victorious, carrying the head of the wolf shifter in her hand.

“Before you kill me,” he rasped, and she instantly released his throat, “can you help me figure out where I came from?”

She frowned. “What in the heavens do you mean, where you came from ?”

He held up his hands in surrender, but she still flinched. Her muscles were wound tight, and she was ready to attack at the tiniest change in his behavior.

Rolf rubbed his forehead and lay his head back down. “I woke up with no memory. I don’t know if you could see that from the tiny bit of blood you took, but I have no idea who I was before the shifting happened.”

The world spun, and she trembled, trying to focus on the amber-colored eyes underneath all of the shaggy hair. It hit her like an avalanche. The coat. The dried blood that still smelled like vampire. The scent of oud, tobacco, and leather.

“I would need more blood,” she heard herself say.

You’ve lost your mind, Adeline. You’ve lost it, and for what? Some pathetic were-shifter?

If this were-shifter had been glamoured enough for him to lose all of his core memories, she would have to take quite a bit of blood to get past the magic that had held his mind captive for a hundred years. And she would have to take quite a bit more of it if she were to remove the glamour. But something nagged in the back of her head.

Why was he glamoured in the first place?

“Take what you need,” Rolf said. “I do not fear death. Not anymore. Not after what I’ve done.”

Adeline cocked her head. Were-shifters were known for violent rampages if they were untrained in their magic, but she had never known one to feel remorse for it.

“Would that we were all brave enough not to fear death,” Adeline said. But she knew it wasn’t true. She had drained enough mortals to know that their biggest fear was, most often, death. “How long have you lived without your memories?”

Rolf shrugged. “When you live alone for decades, not aging, time ceases to matter so much.”

He hadn’t known who he was for so long that he had lost track of the years? Adeline could relate. After a while, the centuries had all started to blend together, and she could no longer keep track of anything, let alone who she had killed or why. But then Colin happened, and it was as if her immortal clock only started when she had fallen in love with him.

“Do what you must,” he said.

Her eyes snapped back into focus. She held up her hands, hoping she sounded sincere when she said, “I promise I won’t take more than I need. But I can’t promise it won’t leave you a little woozy.”

Rolf nodded his consent. “Either way, I will be dead when your coven shows up.”

Adeline tilted her head, staring at him. He laughed, but it wasn’t full of mirth. It was the sound someone makes when they know their fate, know their end is nigh, and there is nothing they can do about it.

How dare he be so endearing and vulnerable?

She quirked a smile at the absurdity, almost laughing with him. But she held back.

Foreplay was one thing, but a shared moment like this? No, that would be admitting too much, given that he was her target. She wouldn’t let herself wonder what a life with him in these woods would look like. She wouldn’t think about how he had knelt before her and worshipped her like a goddess.

Because no matter how many mental gymnastics she did, she couldn’t figure out how any of this would work.

“Take it,” he said, turning his head to expose the unmarked side of his neck. She shifted on top of him.

Adeline nodded and let her fingertip dip below the collar of his shirt. She wanted to peer underneath it, to see if there was a spiderweb of scars near his shoulder where a saber had pierced the skin. But Rolf held her hands in his and kissed her fingertips.

“If you do kill me,” he whispered against her hands, “please know that this evening has been incredible. And, when you do, I want you to know that I do not fault you for any of it.”

Her heart shattered into dust, like one of the ancient parchments she’d held in a library during her search.

“Stop it,” she said gruffly, fighting back tears. This strange emotion threatened to bowl her over. He had to stop being so earnest, or it would ruin the last fragments of her resolve. She leaned over, letting her hair cover his face, and dragged her tongue up the side of his neck, pressing it into his pulse. Then she nipped at his lobe and whispered, “I won’t kill you. Yet.”

Rolf whispered back, “It wouldn’t be a bad way to die.”

He hardened underneath her, and despite her best intentions not to be turned on again, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to ride him and be in total control of what he experienced, his pleasure at her fingertips this time.

No, Adeline. Don’t be a complete idiot.

The coven was coming, and she couldn’t let herself get any more attached. Not when his life and her freedom hung in the balance. She had to untangle herself from this mess. Even if she could figure out how to lead her coven away from here, they would probably split up and send some vampire back to exterminate him anyway. And at least if she were the one doing the killing, it would be swift and painless.

It was the least she could do to repay him for his hospitality and relative kindness.

“I’ll help you, just this once,” she conceded, despite everything in her head screaming at her that once she did this, everything would change. “Under the condition that as soon as your memories come back, you will let me do what I have to. Whatever the cost.”

“Agreed.” He nodded.

Her fangs grew, and she sliced her tongue on their sharp ends, letting the blood fill her mouth. He lifted his arm to her, but she pushed it away and went for the flesh at the base of his neck again. Leaning down, she traced her tongue over his skin.

He sighed, but even though his breathing was slow, his heart beat wildly beneath her palm.

She numbed part of his flesh and inhaled his scent. Her core tightened despite her best efforts to bury the heat between them. The soft scent of his sweat swirled with the warmth of the woodsmoke, and she relaxed against him. Then she bit down hard, eager to get this over with.

He inhaled a sharp breath as her teeth punctured his skin. His fingers found her clit again, and he stroked her slowly as she drank.

Her head reeled with the hazy pieces of imagery that came through. His blood slid down her throat, filling her with heartache, desire, and loneliness. She wasn’t as ravenous as before, so she let herself float along the current of his feelings, let them pass through her. When she had consumed enough, she stopped feeding and closed up the wounds from her teeth.

“Stay right here with me,” she said, looking into his eyes to remove the glamour. Her hands grabbed his face, and her voice turned hypnotic. “You will remember everything from the time before you woke up. You will remember everything…”

As she talked, emotions pulsed through her, ebbing and flowing like a current. She inhaled the scent of his skin once more and let the effects of the blood take over.

The room fell away as she tried to undo the glamour that had been placed on him by the other vampire. She gasped. This glamour wasn’t the work of some inexperienced vampire. No, it was done by one who was older than Adeline, which would explain why it was so strong. She sank deeper into Rolf’s body, fighting against the darker magic that had tried to rip away the very essence of him.

Specific memories blurred into each other, swirling together in an incoherent jumble of images. She could see his body changing after his first shift—from what had once been a youthful body into a formidable man’s. The bone structure had slightly changed, his shoulders were wider, and his body hairier. His eyes had even shifted colors, to the deep amber she could lose herself in. Parts of his childhood morphed into dreamy, warbled images and emotions, cluttered with longing.

But the deeper history that she sought within his psyche still refused to untangle. The more blood she drank from Rolf, the stronger she got. He groaned underneath her, and she would have to stop lest she take too much and it take too long for him to heal.

There .

A solitary memory, buried so deep within him that it was no longer stored in his mind but etched into the walls of his heart. She withdrew, closing up his wounds, and sighed with relief. Her body trembled as new memories flooded her vision once more. She gasped and stared down at Rolf, focusing on how desperate and concerned he looked.

It can’t be.