Page 117 of White Raven (Nevermore Duet #2)

FOREVERMORE

This place felt more like home than the one she’d shared with her mother.

Waking up here was a dream. Months ago, they rode in a cab on a washout day, and every raindrop silhouetted on Athan’s face through the car window was a ghost of the tears he refused to shed, seeing his former home again for the first time in centuries.

How could it not feel like home? They paid for an extended stay in a hotel fit for a king.

The first taste of luxury either of them had experienced in such a long time.

Poe was more than satisfied with his temporary home.

It took a solid week being here before Athan was ready to venture out to old places to see if they were still standing.

Sarah remained patient, drinking up the feel of starting over in a place that seemed to change her mate into a completely different version of himself—a version that she was beginning to fall so much deeper for.

They’d spent a full day sightseeing, and his fingers twined through hers as they stood in front of a dilapidated building that had been condemned. There were warning signs, and chains on every door. The roof had caved in a long time ago, and the rubble itself seemed haunted.

“Is this…” Sarah whispered, staring up at the unsturdy structure.

“Madame Olivia’s,” Athan smirked, following her line of sight. “The place I became… me .”

It had hit her like a fist to the heart.

The way his body stiffened. The way his smile slowly faded.

Every horrible memory probably replaying in that pretty head that made him feel like this was where his story started.

It was about as bad as that dusty leather ledger that Patrick’s mother had found in that desk in Boston.

“That’s never been what makes you , Athan.” A chilly wind rattled branches of nearby trees, and she’d turned toward him, sliding both arms around his waist. “I bet there’s a different place around here that you can find that guy.”

His brows lowered, and those ice blue eyes tore into her soul. “What guy?”

“That… guy. What was his name? Nathaniel?”

He audibly swallowed and tears threatened to line those piercing eyes as he softly shook his head. “I think that guy’s been dead for a long time, love.”

“No…no he hasn’t.”

Madame Olivia’s shitty brothel was scheduled to be demolished later that month.

Sarah had made damn sure of it. They spent the short remainder of winter enjoying London, and one not-so-special day, while they were eating outside a small cafe, and enjoying the first warmth of spring, Athan eyed a very dated, gorgeous building across the street.

“If you’re about to tell me I need to tear that bitch down too, it might actually sting a little bit,” Sarah smiled, wiping her mouth after taking a bite of a really damn good sandwich.

Athan turned his face towards her, and that smile was as bright as the sun beaming off of his raven black hair.

Every tattoo left to swoon over by that tight-fitting black t-shirt, and his ripped jeans made the sandwich taste a bit dull.

Sarah wondered if there would ever be a time she didn’t want to bite into this man and be forever sustained.

“Wanna go see it?” he asked, those eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Can I bring my sandwich?”

He chuckled under his breath and laid cash on the little table, scooching his chair back across the cobblestone patio. “Nope.”

Sarah crammed the rest into her mouth and took his hand as they crossed the busy street, and the closer they got to this place, the bigger it seemed. There were people everywhere…people in… wigs .

“You know,” she started, pausing at the steps. “When I said I wanted to put a wig on you, this isn’t…what I meant.”

Athan laughed, and the sound would honestly never get old. “Don’t think I could pull it off?”

“What is this…a theater?”

He shook his head and tugged her hand forward. Sarah found herself slowly realizing where they were. Her heart started pounding. These weren’t actors. This wasn’t a theater. These were lawyers . This was a courthouse .

She took in every inch of the interior as they walked through, gawking at the architecture. When they stopped in front of an office, Athan turned her to face him, and took both her hands.

“ We’ve loved with a love that was more than love , Sarah St. James. I’m gonna ask you one more time, and then hopefully never again… nevermore .”

Sarah wondered if her sternum could take the thrashing that that fleshy muscle was giving it, and she swallowed down her father’s immortal words. Athan rested his head against hers, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. “Ask me then, detective,” she whispered.

“Marry me?” Athan choked out, gripping her hands. “Today…right now.”

His voice was desperate, and the edge to it made her muscles weak. “You know…we’ve got an eternity to do this.”

“Maybe we do, and I don’t fucking care. You were right.

She didn’t make me. You do. I’m not waiting another minute for it.

The next place I wanna take you…I wanna take you as my wife .

” His breathing kicked up, and his fingertips grazed her cheek.

“I wanna go home whole , Sarah. And I’m not whole without you. ”

Sarah felt a knot gather in her throat, and she looked down at their simple, normal appearance.

They were anything but. It made it all the more perfect.

This was why he’d waited so long to figure out if the little house he lived in with his mother was still there.

Why he’d waited a lifetime to get back here, and hadn’t tried to venture to that part of Old London at all.

He wasn’t whole yet. Neither was she. And it didn’t take an expensive white dress, or a chapel full of loved ones to have it.

He was all she needed. Old London felt like home because he was home.

Walking through that door was going to be a testament to leaving that old life behind and acknowledging that even if that house was a pile of old wood and stone…

he was the only four walls she’d ever need.

Sarah thought back to the first moment she’d spotted him in that club.

The glow of that cigarette lighting up beneath that hood and showing the mouth that would claim her hours later, and change her entire perspective on life.

About a black bird that bound them together.

A tattoo. A line from a poem written ages ago by a man that never knew just how complex and incredible this story would be.

A story he indeed helped write. A story she’d finish.

That they’d finish…together. Her voice was hoarse with tears.

“You’re that guy from the bar…”

Athan smiled, leaning up to press his lips to her forehead.

“You’re observant.”

Sarah’s bare shoulder softly rose and fell in the plush bed, her inked back facing him as Athan laid next to her.

There was a familiar smell that she’d never know existed in this place long before they ever brought it back to life.

He breathed it in, and his keen hearing picked up the song of Starlings, wildly chattering to one another outside as fall started settling in over Old London.

They’d be flying south soon, and winter would return…

colder here than Boston ever was, but so much warmer a feeling than the summer he’d spent beneath the sun…

with his mate. His wife . His forever…putting all the pieces of this house back together and building their eternity brick by peaceful brick.

He wished his mother could see it. The place they’d made together.

The place he always wished he could have given her and watched her grow old. He didn’t even have a portrait of her.

Sarah’s framed photo of her and her own mother sat on their nightstand, and he realized he hadn’t heard whispering in what seemed like forever now. Athan stared at it and smiled softly.

Thank you, Katherine. Tell my mother…she never failed me. I hope I’ve made you both proud. I’ll be eternally grateful for what you both gave us.

Sarah stirred, and he turned on his side, pressing his body against her back, and smoothing his palm down her side as he kissed her pale shoulder. His hair fell over his brow, and her scent intoxicated him.

“Morning, Mrs. Kane.”

Sarah slowly rolled onto her back, smiling as he leaned himself over her.

“Hey, you…”

She was so fucking beautiful. An eternity didn’t seem like enough time to appreciate her. Still…so undeserving. Poe woke and fluttered his wings in his large cage near the window. Sarah shifted underneath him.

“Your bird-child is awake.”

Athan’s gold band glinted in the gray light coming in from the window as he trailed his fingers across her naked body. “He’ll have to wait. I’ve yet to properly thank you.”

“What was last night then?” she snorted, rubbing the corner of her eye.

Last night had been emotion. Gratitude had been shoved to the back burner where he’d no doubt burn it to a crisp, with no hope of salvaging it with the stupid spatula that served as a steady reminder that he’d never truly learn how to cook.

Sarah had surprised him with a secret commission that had beaten his immortal heart into slop as they spent their first night in this house.

The stone mason that had restored the original chimney, and front stoop that they couldn’t live without…

had created a masterpiece to replace the bird-shaped stone that marked his mother’s grave.

She now had a beautiful monument of her own…

with her name on it this time. Sarah had it placed yesterday…

and the mason returned the flat piece of stone, sealing it into the lowest step…

the word ‘forevermore’ engraved in the middle, and polished to commemorate their wedding date, and the beginning of their very long future.

Athan had been so beside himself that his soul was lost inside her last night.

He poured every ounce of it into her with every slow, satisfying stroke.

It was hard to imagine that hiding behind that shell of humanity that Dahlia sought to destroy in him for all those dark years, was what had found this incredible creature lying underneath him.

The one that saved his life in every possible way.

His very own white knight…his White Raven .

So much more a queen than Dahlia could have ever been…

with her band shirts, and her black nail polish.

The simplicity of her exterior, and the complexity of the goddess that dwelled within.

She deserved to be worshiped. And he was about to do exactly that.

“Last night was how much I fucking love you, Sarah. How much I’ll always love you. My fountain and my shrine. This morning…is every single piece of you that I’ll continue to thank God for. For whatever he feels I’m so worthy of after everything I’ve done.”

A sly smile crept across her face. “Oh, you’re praying now, are you?”

Athan hummed as he drew her pierced nipple into his mouth, and tugged on the small metal hoop until she hissed through her teeth.

“One of us is about to…but it won’t be me, love.

” His fingers dipped under the sheet, and he curled them under her knee, bending it and gently pushing it open as his tongue swirled around the swell of her breast.

“Ha…” she huffed out breathlessly, squirming under his ministrations. “And what if I said I was tired?”

He couldn’t help but grin against her chest as his fingers slid between those slender tattooed thighs, and through her slit, finding purchase in that sweet cunt.

“You don’t feel tired…” he whispered, kissing his way down her body as his fingers slid in and out.

She breathed harder and gripped the sheets as he bit into the tender skin of her abdomen.

Her blood had tasted sweeter since the day she took his last name.

He made sure to coat his mouth with it. He’d be coating it with something else in about five seconds.

Athan raised himself to tower over her, and the sight of that body…

that bite closing up on her belly…he had to grip his cock with his other hand to keep it from twitching, while the other left that haven to travel up to her parted mouth.

“Take it,” he rasped, breathing heavily.

She opened it wider, and he let her suck them clean…

those flecks of gold in her eyes firing up as she eyed his bloody mouth.

“You taste that, Sarah? I want that in my mouth,” he whispered, leaning down to hover over her lips while he forced her mouth open with his fingers, “…every day…” A trail of bloody saliva hung from his bottom lip, and into hers, and he nearly came in his hand when she stuck her tongue out to lap up the excess on his mouth.

“For as long as I live.” Sarah’s irises darkened to a cold onyx and those canines found their way out, setting him ablaze with want.

“Well,” she panted, growing restless. “Who am I to keep it from you then, Athan Kane?” She knew exactly how to unravel him with a single look.

He’d dragged his feast of her out as long as he could manage, refusing to let her fill his mouth until she thought she was completely spent…

it was adorable. She absolutely believed she was good and truly tired then—believed he’d stop there and let her gather herself.

Not this morning. Not for the next several hours. Not for a fucking lifetime.

No…this morning, he was grateful. He was grateful for every scream of his name, every jerk of her body…every damn drop of himself coating her wide open sex as he pushed himself back inside her. It wasn’t until this morning that he’d realized it…

Why he’d really attacked her that night.

Why he couldn’t leave after seeing her in the crowd.

What he was so sure was bloodlust had been something else entirely.

All his life he’d been starving for her.

His own body was so eviscerated and empty without her that Athan had forgotten he’d had a heart that could start beating again.

He was still starving. And he may not ever be fully sated.

Not when it came to this woman. Neither of them could barely catch their breath as sweat glued their bodies together, and he laid over her, completely consumed by that mouth, and those hands.

They’d never be close enough. He’d never be deep enough.

He’d never be able to thank the man upstairs enough…

For forevermore .