Promised in Blood (Broken Bloodlines Book 2)
Promised in Blood: Chapter 20

What will you do if I bite her, Ophelia? I ask again as her sweet, coppery blood slides over my tongue. Her power rages through my veins, and my heart beats so violently that it feels like it is trying to hammer its way through my ribcage.

I d-don’t want you to bite her.

Why? I growl, sinking my fangs ever deeper into her creamy skin.

She continues to fight me. Fighting the truth. But why? I probe inside her mind, but she brings down a wall that shuts me out—a feat that even Axl, Xavier, and Malachi are incapable of. I pull her closer, so close that it feels like my body is absorbing hers. She grinds herself against the hardness of my cock, and the needy whimper that purrs in her throat drives me mad with the desire to claim her.

I have never wanted to devour any other being so much as I do Ophelia Hart. Every single thing about her is addictive and exhilarating and so desperately intoxicating that I can barely stand to be near her and not touch her.

Stop fighting me and tell me. I change my tone, making it less commanding and more soothing as I flick the tip of my tongue over the wound on her neck. Why do you not want me to bite Cadence?

She resists me still—at least she tries. But I force my way into her mind, probing deep inside the darkest recesses even as she tries to close off parts she does not want me to see. Why? I ask once more.

She tips her head back, a loud moan falling from her pretty mouth. Because she doesn’t deserve to have her memory wiped. That belongs to her. She should be allowed to keep the truth.

I stifle a growl. I know you care deeply for your friend, and that is admirable. But there is something more. Something you are hiding from me, little one, and I believe you are also hiding it from yourself.

She whimpers, giving her body entirely to me, though she continues to fight the truth I am determined to seek out in her mind.

There’s nothing more. I just care about my friend … Sobs accompany her insistence, but she is still burying some truth deep within her psyche, and I will not stop until I uncover it.

My fangs sink farther into the tender flesh of her throat. Her blood thunders through me, and I probe deeper, trying to break through the last of her defenses. Tell me, Ophelia! I demand.

Hot tears roll from her cheek and onto my jaw. I told you, sir.

No. You did not. Why do you not want me to bite her? My tone is harsh and demanding. All the fight leaves her, and if I were a better man, I might feel a moment’s guilt at forcing her to confront whatever truth she is so intent on hiding. But I am not, and I do not.

Because you’re mine!

I stagger back a step with her still in my arms, my ears ringing and my cock aching from her words. The possession and strength in her voice have every cell in my body driven mad by the desire to show her who she belongs to.

I snarl. I am yours?

Yes! Another hot tear drips onto the side of my face, right beneath my ear. I picture myself carrying her out of the room and straight to my bed. Laying her down on it with my teeth still embedded in her throat whilst I unzip my pants and take out my aching cock. She must feel what I am imagining because a series of whimpers leak from her mouth and the thick scent of her arousal fills my nose. I cannot see straight with the strength of the yearning that courses through me. Right here in front of Axl and Malachi, whose eyes I can feel boring into my skin as they watch me with her. But given what we just learned, now is not the time for this, regardless of how the ravenous need to be inside her is driving me half crazy.

Mine! She says the word again, and it makes my blood scream in my ears.

I want to sink inside her tight, wet heat until the screaming stops. Until soul-affirming relief rushes over me, flooding every cell of my body. Yes, I am yours, Ophelia.

She wrenches her lips away. “Mine.” She whispers the word aloud like a prayer.

I press my forehead to hers and unwrap her legs from my waist so she is once more standing on her own two feet. My heart beats an erratic rhythm in my chest, its intensity mirroring hers as she stares at me with those huge trusting blue eyes. “Always yours.”

Axl presses his chest against her back and pulls her hair aside before nuzzling her neck. “We’re all yours, princess.”

Malachi hums his agreement as he flanks our right side, wrapping one arm around Axl’s neck and resting his lips on Ophelia’s bare arm.

“Are you guys having a party without me?” Xavier’s deep voice fills the room, and it makes Ophelia smile.

“Just showing our girl who she belongs to,” Malachi says. “So get over here.”

Xavier obliges, coming to stand on our left and resting his lips on top of Ophelia’s head. I wrap an arm around Malachi and rest it on Axl’s shoulder as I rest my free hand on the back of Xavier’s neck. It is a possessive gesture and reveals much more of myself than I usually would with him, and whilst he softens at my touch, his focus remains on the beautiful creature in the center of our circle.

“Ophelia.” Her head snaps up, and she stares into my eyes. “It is vital for our survival that we feed on others, little one. As delightfully addictive as you are, you alone cannot sustain four hungry vampires.” She opens her mouth to speak, but I silence her with a warning look. “Sometimes it is necessary to bite people for many reasons, such as erasing their memory, but it does not in any way lessen what we have. So you will curb this jealous streak you are developing.” I tuck a lock of pink hair behind her ear. “Before I am forced to curb it for you. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir.” Those words on her lips never fail to invoke a reaction in my groin area.

Sweet demons, give me strength. “Stop that!”

She sighs and presses her cheek to my chest. “Four hot, hungry vampires, and a girl still can’t get an orgasm around here.” She makes a feeble attempt at laughter, but her sadness is overwhelming. We all understand her need for something to lighten the somber mood. This day is only going to become more difficult for her.

Xavier swats her ass, making her yelp. “You should be careful getting four horny vampires riled up, Cupcake, or you might replace yourself tied to a bed for the rest of the week.”

Axl hums his agreement. “Being edged because you’re not allowed to come.”

Malachi chuckles. “Aw, my poor, sweet girl.”

I inhale the scent of her, and I am unable to stop the images of her tied up and at our mercy from pervading my thoughts. “Perhaps we will tie our little troublemaker up later. First we must pay a visit to Silver Vale and speak with the young witch.”

The boys voice their approval.

“Her name is Cadence,” Ophelia says with a huff that has her warm breath penetrating my thin shirt.

“Whatever her name, we need to go speak with her.” Not to mention replace out as much as I can about what happened and figure out why someone tried to frame me for her roommate’s death. Tearing out the hearts of witches was my calling card. Albeit, it has been a long time since I have left it.

“Shall we come too?” Malachi asks.

My eyes dart between the three of them. They are trustworthy, loyal boys, and I have not been the sire any of them deserve, though my reasons for turning each of them were very different.

Perhaps we should all pay a visit to Silver Vale. The time for secrecy is coming to an end.

Ophelia runs to her friend as soon as we enter the parlor room of Silver Vale. Pale-pink and gold holiday decorations cover every available surface, and I had to duck to miss hitting my head on the mistletoe hanging from the doorway.

Enora, Osiris, and the young witch have been awaiting our arrival. At my request, Enora has permitted the boys to enter the house.

“Cadence, are you okay?” Ophelia asks.

Cadence wipes tears from her cheeks and steps into Ophelia’s warm embrace, resting her head on her shoulder. She sniffs. “It was horrible, Ophelia. She was …” She sucks in a harsh, rasping breath, and her grief mingles with Ophelia’s and pervades every inch of the heavily decorated space.

“I’m so sorry,” Ophelia murmurs, stroking her friend’s auburn hair.

Cadence steps back, scrubbing at her cheeks once more. “Why Meg, though? She was so nice. Not even that powerful. Why …?” Her question is swallowed by her grief, but I have no need for my mind-reading skills to know what she is thinking. It is the question every survivor asks themselves: Why not me?

“I suspect we will never know the true reason for this senseless act. For now, let us chalk it up to a random act of savagery,” I say, drawing the witch’s attention.

She blinks at me. “But why come to Silver Vale? Why …” She breaks off, a sob stealing the rest of her sentence.

Cadence is too astute to believe that someone randomly chose Silver Vale and that the same someone was powerful enough to breach Enora’s protective spells.

I cross the room so I am standing close enough that her grief seeps into my own pores. But her pervading emotion is fear. Fear that it might happen again and that next time she will be the victim of such a savage assault. “It appears that someone tried to frame me for Meg’s death, Cadence. As of yet, we do not know why. And until we do, we must ask you to keep the details of her demise between only the people in this room. To reveal the truth would only cause panic and hysteria, and that will neither help the situation nor anyone involved in it.”

She licks a tear from her lip and regards me with suspicion.

“Or, if you would prefer, I can make you forget. If you choose that option, you will be made to believe the same as everyone else—that Meg has returned to her family in Vermont.”

She swallows hard but maintains the same level of steady eye contact. I am unsure whether to be impressed by her nerve or annoyed by her insolence, but when she speaks, the latter nearly wins out. “Why wouldn’t you just do that anyway?”

I rock my head from side to side. Ophelia’s eyes burn a hole in the side of my face, encouraging me, none too gently, to stretch my patience for her friend a little further. “Because both Ophelia and Professor Green assure me that you are a capable, sensible witch who can be trusted. But if that is not the case …” I level her with the stare that has made kings, emperors, and ruthless dictators alike fall to their knees before me.

Her pupils blow wide, yet she still does not look away. “I don’t want to forget,” she whispers.

I search her face for signs of deceit and replace none. My instincts are rarely wrong, and they are telling me that she is every bit as trustworthy as Ophelia and Enora believe her to be. “Good girl.”

Ophelia scowls at me, and her unguarded reaction reminds me to be more cautious with my choice of words. I am unaccustomed to dealing with jealous lovers as I have never tolerated such behavior from those I took to my bed. It is a surprise for me to realize that I am not annoyed by her display of such a primitive emotion. Rather, I am quite pleased.

“Cadence.” Enora wraps her arm around the young witch’s shoulder. “You should go join the others in the den. They are all upset at Meg’s sudden departure. I know I ask a lot of you, but it will lessen their suspicion if you speak to them of her leaving.” She places her hands on either side of Cadence’s face and talks her through the story she has told all the other witches.

After hugging Ophelia once more—and with a determination that I admire—Cadence rolls back her shoulders and heads out of the room to play her part in the charade.

As soon as she is gone, Osiris speaks. “So, what do we do now? President Ollenshaw has been alerted to Meg’s death. He is in agreement that we should keep the truth of the situation from the students, but he has called a faculty meeting.” Osiris checks his watch. “It begins at eleven. That means we have less than an hour to decide what to tell them.”

“We tell them as much of the truth as we can afford to,” I reply. “The girl was found dead. An intruder of unknown origin and motive tore out her heart.”

“Does that not implicate you, old friend?” Osiris asks.

Malachi comes to stand beside me and pulls Ophelia into his arms, and she nestles against his chest. “I don’t understand. Why would that implicate you where the president is concerned?” he asks.

“Because after my wife and children were murdered, I tore out the heart of every witch I could replace who played their part in the genocide. And there are few magical creatures at this university who have not been made aware of that fact.”

Osiris’s dark eyes narrow, flickering with amber because his wolf is near the surface. “I think there are a fair few who had no idea you had a family. I knew about your history with witches, but I always assumed your quest for vengeance was about your mother.”

I shake my head. “My wife and two daughters were elementai.” I still keep Lucian’s name out of it, unable able to admit to the boys that I have a son and that he is alive.

Osiris’s face remains clouded with suspicion. “You never told me.”

Axl folds his arms across his chest. “He never told us until a few weeks ago either.”

Osiris raises an eyebrow. “So many secrets, old friend.”

I twist my neck. “We all have our secrets, do we not?” Enora? I say that last word to only her, and she visibly bristles. “For now, we will keep our suspicions about the Skotádi from the rest of the faculty. It would only cause unnecessary hysteria, and there is no suggestion there is any threat to the humans at this stage. But I suggest we alert the society heads so they can take the appropriate steps to protect their students.”

“Dr. Ollenshaw would lose his mind and have the whole campus on magical lockdown at the mere hint of Skotádi,” Enora says, her voice full of disdain. She holds him in as low a regard as I.

“We definitely don’t tell Jerome,” Osiris agrees.

I check my watch. It was a full moon last night, and the wolves will all be sleeping off their hunt. I cannot imagine they were happy about being called to a faculty meeting on a Sunday morning, and most of them will no doubt miss it. However, having Osiris’s counterparts there is imperative. “There is not much time to spare. Can you round up the Crescent leaders and have them meet us in the history building before the faculty meeting begins?”

He nods. “Wish me luck.”

With a brief goodbye to everyone in the room, Osiris leaves, and I direct all my attention to Enora. She tilts her chin defiantly, aware of the information I require. The information I have been gracious enough to allow her to keep to herself for too long already.

“Who is the witch you are keeping secrets for?”

Her brows knit in a frown, and she makes a good show of pretending she has no idea what I am referring to, but she cannot fool me for a second.

I breathe deep, channeling calmness. My patience is never so close to snapping as when matters of Ophelia’s safety are concerned. “Do not toy with me. Who is the witch that asked you to keep a watchful eye on Ophelia?”

Her slender throat convulses. “I cannot say.”

Ophelia takes a step forward and stands beside me, but her gaze is focused on Enora. “Someone asked you to keep an eye on me?”

Enora ignores the question and instead glares at me.

“A witch is dead, Enora. Someone clearly tried to frame me for the crime. Now is not the time for secrecy.” The irony of that statement is not lost on me, but now is also not the time for self-reflection.

Her jaw tics. “I am unable to tell you. I wish that I could, but I cannot.”

I take a step forward, and she flinches. “Has time softened your memories of me, witch? If you refuse to disclose their identity, I will bite you and discover that truth for myself.”

“It is forbidden to bite a faculty member without their consent.”

“As forbidden as it is to use dark magic from the Book of Skoteiní Xórkia? I think we are all aware that following the rules of this institution is no longer my priority.”

She takes a step back, eyeing me warily, as she should. “If I allow you to bite me, then I would be breaking my oath, Alexandros. Besides, it would take you years to search my memories.”

I suspect that was true as recently as three weeks ago, but not any longer. Not since Ophelia Hart snaked her way into every fiber of my being and somehow magnified my power with her own. “I am willing to test that theory.”

Before she can blink, my hand is on the back of her neck, fisting in her hair. I drag her to me, pressing her slight body against mine, and sink my teeth into the soft flesh of her throat. Her lifeblood flows over my tongue. Ophelia’s shock followed by a pang of jealousy spiking in her chest are the first sensations to hit me, and I take a second to remind her that I take no pleasure in biting anyone but her, even if I am about to make this entire experience much more pleasurable for Enora.

She struggles, muttering a spell that almost wrenches my teeth from her neck, but I hold fast, searching her memories as I deepen my bite. Finally, her body complies even if her mind does not. She goes limp in my arms, but she chants another spell, and I am forced to hold her tighter as I resist the external forces of the incantation that try to pull me from her.

The quicker you allow me to get what I want, the sooner this will be over, filis mous, I remind her.

“I cannot allow you access to those memories,” she rasps. “I swore an oath.”

You simply have to stop fighting me. I will replace them myself, and then this will be less painful for all of us.

“But you cannot replace them. It will take too long.” A tear rolls down her cheek.

As if they are stills from a movie, I easily comb through her memories, flicking through them at lightning speed. And although her mind is as strong as it always was, it takes me but a few moments to replace the memory I am searching for.

I stop feeding and take a step back. Enora blinks at me, her body seemingly frozen to the spot.

“Nazeel Danraath.” A sliver of fear snakes its way through the anger inside my chest. Never would I have expected her name to be the one I found inside Enora’s memories. What was Nazeel’s motive?

“Y-you found it. But how?” Blood trickles from the wound in her neck, which I did not take the time to heal. She mutters a spell, and the torn flesh begins knitting back together.

I have no desire to explain the rapid increase in my powers. “Why is a member of the Order asking you to keep a watchful eye on Ophelia?”

Ophelia gasps. “Like the Order of Azezal? That Order?”

Pride swells within me, and I suppress my smile. She is learning so fast, but I never should have expected anything less from my curious scholar.

Not now, little one.

She presses her lips together and mumbles an apology through our link.

Enora pays Ophelia no mind. “She did not make me aware of her motives, Alexandros. But you know as well as I do that Nazeel would mean no harm to any witch. She simply asked me to take an interest in the girl and determine whether she had any magical ability,” she explains. “As you are aware, having accessed my memories.” Heat blooms across her cheeks.

A better man would offer an apology for violating her trust and privacy, but I am not that man, and I would do it again—a fact she is well aware of. Her family swore an unbreakable oath to the Danraath witches centuries ago as penance for their involvement in the elementai genocide—a crime which Enora played no part in but for which she still had to pay.

“Who is Nazeel?” Ophelia asks, the words bursting from her as though she cannot contain them. “Do you know her? Can she be trusted?”

My ironclad control is being pushed to its very limit today, but I, too, have questions that I wish someone could answer. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I bite back my frustration and take the time to reassure Ophelia. “She is a member of the Order. A powerful witch. And yes, I know her.” I lick my lips. “I have never had reason not to trust her,” I admit. But why does she have an interest in Ophelia? Does she know the truth? If she did, surely she would … She would do nothing. Members of the Order do not act. They observe, or they do not remain part of the Order for long.

“The Order is no threat to anyone, Ophelia,” Enora says reassuringly.

I screw my eyes closed and concentrate, certain that all the pieces of the puzzle are within my grasp. If I could only connect them properly … But the answers I seek continue to elude me. “You must be curious, Enora. Has Nazeel ever asked such a favor of you before?”

The witch shakes her head. “No, and of course I was curious. But you witnessed the memory. She simply told me that she believed the girl had been overlooked and needed a chance to unlock her potential. And has that not happened?”

I rock my head from side to side, simmering rage growing hot and tight inside my chest. “I beg your pardon?”

Enora gives me a wry smile. “Do not toy with me, Alexandros,” she says, repeating my own words back to me. “The girl’s powers have been unlocked. I sense it in her.” Her gray eyes sparkle with undisguised glee. Understandable, considering her incorrect assumption that Ophelia is a witch. “You must pledge for Silver Vale, Ophelia. The closing ceremony has passed, but for someone with such potential, we can bend the rules.”

“Not a fucking chance, Cupcake.” Xavier’s growl of warning is echoed by his brothers.

Enora huffs indignantly. “I believe that is for Ophelia to decide.” She glares at me. “Surely you will allow her to pledge, Alexandros. It is cruel to deny her the opportunity to learn from her peers. She already fits in so well here at Silver Vale. Your …” Pausing, she wrinkles her nose and scrutinizes my three boys. “Offspring will be permitted to visit, provided they can behave themselves with the expected decorum.”

So unaccustomed to flattery, Ophelia’s cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink than her hair.

Do not even think about it, little one. You are ours, remember? I warn her. I do not believe she is tempted by the offer, but it is important that she knows her leaving us will never happen.

If Enora knew my boys and I were bonded with Ophelia, she would not dare suggest such a notion, but since the extinction of the elementai, vampires rarely choose to bond. And whilst I trust Enora more than most, the risk of her knowing about our bond is too great.

“Thank you so much for the invitation, Professor, but I love where I live.” Ophelia offers her signature sweet smile. “And Malachi has been helping me learn about magic and spells and things. He’s actually really knowledgeable about witchcraft.”

Enora shudders, no doubt appalled at the very idea of a vampire teaching a witch, and her youthful veneer slips for the merest fraction of a second. Once she has recomposed herself, she says, not unkindly, “It is not the same as being amongst your own kind and learning with your sisters, sweet child.”

“She will learn with her brothers instead. Together, we are more than capable of giving Ophelia what she needs.” I grab Ophelia’s hand and thread our fingers together.

Enora’s expression lights with awareness upon seeing my overt show of possession. “Oh. I see.”

“Ophelia will remain at Ruby Dragon,” I declare, not bothering to hide the nature of our relationship. “She will not be pledging to any of the Vale houses.”

“It is selfish to keep her from her kind, Alexandros, and you know it. And one day, she will resent you for it,” she says, not unkindly, but I do not need her warning.

“No, I won’t,” Ophelia snaps, finally showing the feisty side that she typically keeps buried in favor of respecting her professors. Until now, I have only ever seen her speak to me in such a way, and even then, only after I pushed her beyond what any other person could deem reasonable.

“You are too naive to see it now, child,” Enora says in that soft, singsong tone she uses to lull people into her web. “But one day, you will see that these boys are not what you need. Vampires and witches are not a good match.”

Axl, Xavier, and Malachi growl, all of them edging forward. I raise my free hand, stopping them in their tracks, and allow an edge of danger to tint my otherwise aloof tone when I speak into her mind. Just because you could not keep me in your bed, Enora, do not dare to assume you know anything about me or my boys.

Her face flashes with the pain of rejection, but it is nothing less than she deserves.

You and Professor Enora? Ophelia’s hurt-filled voice floods my thoughts now too. Perhaps it was cruel to allow her to hear, but I do not wish for there to be any secrets between her and me. You have much to learn about vampires and witches. We all seek the pleasures of the flesh, but that is very much in the past.

She tries to pull her hand from mine, but I refuse to allow it. Behave yourself, or I will bite you right now to ensure your submission.

Her hand goes limp in mine, her jealousy assuaged, and I focus on Enora once more. “I do not wish to dredge up our past mistakes, filis mous. That is long buried in the distant past where it should remain. We were always better friends than lovers, you and I. Trust me when I tell you that Ophelia’s needs will be well taken care of at Ruby Dragon.”

“Yeah, we got everything she needs. Isn’t that right, Cupcake?” Xavier says.

Ophelia gives him an adoring smile and nods before turning back to Enora. “I do appreciate you looking out for me. And I do really like it here, it’s just that Ruby feels like my home.”

Enora smiles, and her obvious genuine affection for Ophelia is reason enough alone for my gratitude and loyalty. “You are welcome here any time. Cadence will be needing her friends around her these next few weeks.”

Reminded of the reason we are here, I add, “If there is any indication that the girl cannot cope with the burden we have placed on her this day, let me know immediately, and I will erase her memory.”

Enora nods. “I will keep a careful eye on her.”

As soon as we have left the vicinity of the Vale houses and are sheltered by the cover of trees, I draw to a stop. Confused, Ophelia stops beside me. With slow, deliberate intent, I wrap my hand around her slender neck and press the pad of my thumb on the underside of her jaw, tipping her head back until her pretty blue eyes are locked on mine. Axl, Malachi, and Xavier stand to either side of us, devious grins on their faces.

Ophelia narrows her eyes. “This is either where you bite me or reprimand me. So what have I done wrong?”

I brush my lips over her jawline. “I do love having you in this position, little one. Feeling your pulse flutter beneath my hand makes me want to strip you naked right here beneath these trees and sink my cock inside you inch by inch until you are begging me to fuck you.” Her pupils blow wide, and she sucks in a deep breath that makes her breasts heave. “As adorable as it is to see your little fists balled with rage, you have no reason to harbor such petty jealousies.”

Her throat works like she is ready to speak, no doubt to come back with some feisty retort, but I squeeze my hand and cut her off. “I have lived for over two thousand years, Ophelia. I have enjoyed many pleasures of the flesh. I have bedded at least half the faculty of this university, but all of it was merely in pursuit of momentary pleasure. I have only ever bonded to one woman before you. She grew three of my children in her womb, but still nothing compares to the feelings I have for you. Our bond is unique. Not just with me, with all of us. No one will ever take your place, agápi mou. And the sooner you realize that, the easier all our lives will be.”

I relax my grip on her and rest my hand at the base of her throat, allowing her to speak freely. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better, Professor.” Her sultry tone coupled with her warm breath dancing over my face has me on the edge of finishing what we started earlier in the house. Is that her end game here? She is incredibly submissive, perhaps because she knows how hard it makes all of us. The boys are as desperate for her as I am, and the wicked smirk playing on her lips tells me she knows it. What happened to her friend today has her nerves understandably on edge, and perhaps she is seeking comfort in the best way she has learned. Whilst that saddens me, I am also painfully aware that it would be a comfort to all of us.

“Are you simply looking to get yourself fucked, Ophelia?”

Her legs tremble, and the scent of her arousal grows thick around us. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “Maybe.”

I trail my fingertips over her cheek and suppress a smile. “Not right now.”

Axl and Xavier each let out a dark laugh, and Malachi utters an unintelligible word that sounds full of sympathy. “So unfair,” Ophelia mutters.

I drop my hand and walk away, striding ahead and leaving her and the boys to make their way back to the house at a slower pace behind me. Yes, it is unfair. I wish I could spend every waking second with a part of me inside her, but there is too much to lose. Too much at stake if she unleashes her powers before she has a hold on them. If it would not draw my suspicion from my father, I would take her and my boys far away from this place and never return.

I squash the idea before it takes root and begins to grow. There is no simple answer to the paradox of Ophelia Hart. And if I were a man prone to wasting time, I might wish that there was.