She’s me, and I’m her. What if she never wanted to darken her blood again?
He would recognize her little bite anywhere—in a way, it was like his claiming mark. If he encountered one of her lovers and saw it . . .
He ground his fangs. She didn’t have to feed from others. What was the point? They would keep that separate from any arrangements between them. He’d make it a condition.
Maybe he would use a vow to the Lore!
He would convince her blood-drinking was for them alone, their special act. As she’d described: with the licking, and the lips, and the penetration. d.a.m.n it, that should be private! Just last night, their heartbeats had synchronized; she’d commented on the bond, how she was different.
Why would she ever share that—
He stilled. Josephine viewed s.e.x the way he viewed her feeding. As private and special. As something that bonded them and altered them. She’d left her claiming bite on him, just as he’d done with her.
It didn’t matter that he gave little meaning to s.e.x with others. She did.
He hissed in a breath. Unfortunately, he’d come to this gut-wrenching conclusion when he was naked in bed with another female, after deserting his mate—while she’d looked as if she were dying inside. f.u.c.k!
He yanked Meliai’s hands off him and sat up.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice sounding far away.
He shook his head hard, bringing himself back to this room. When Josephine had told him that they’d think of another way to get her brother back, Rune had been confused; wouldn’t she do anything for Thad?
She didn’t care less about her brother; she cared more about Rune. Just the fact that she hadn’t sent him off with a smile and a wave told him how much.
Her heart had opened up to another!
His spike of excitement faded. Tonight, she’d cried, You’re breaking my heart.
She hadn’t been throwing a fit like a scorned lover; she d.a.m.n sure hadn’t been trying to manipulate him.
Josephine had reacted like a female grieving a lover she’d lost.
She would be finished with Rune after this! Panic seized him by the throat. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, tracing to his clothes.
He could still fix things with her. She’d be outside waiting—because he was supposed to return with the means to free Thaddeus.
“Rune, answer me!” Meliai cried. “What’s wrong?”
He yanked on his pants. “I’m done,” he said, and he meant it. Rune had just retired from his millennia-old job as secrets master. He had time to figure out something with the Møriør, but how was he going to save Thaddeus?
Meliai scrambled to her knees. “You can’t be serious!”
By spurning her, he risked angering coveys the worlds over. There was no worse insult to her kind.
“What do you need to get back into this? I’ll do it.” She cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, tweaking her nipples. “Imagine your filthiest fantasy, and it’s yours.”
His fantasies all involved the beautiful, brash, courageous mate he didn’t deserve. The one waiting outside for him to finish bedding another.
“Anything, Rune.”
He stomped into his boots, then pulled on his shirt. “No.” That word, from his lips, about this subject . . . “No.” G.o.ds, that tasted delicious.
“Why? At least give me a reason!”
“I’ve changed.” A thought struck him. He would never have to do this again—dragging on his clothes, wishing for a shower and the peace of his chair by the fire.
He was free.
Meliai sputtered, “Short of s.e.x with me, there is no way you can get past the wraiths.”
“I’ll figure something out.”
“Are you going to f.u.c.k your way in there? You’d do it, wouldn’t you? Screw creatures as repulsive as the Scourge?”
How was he going to face Josephine? By promising her he’d get her brother back, Rune had set himself up to fail her in one way or another.
I don’t want to fail her. He strapped on his quiver, slinging his bow over his shoulder. Just as she’d said, there had to be an alternative, something he wasn’t seeing. . . .
He traced his fingers over his bowstring. Tonight, he’d forever sheathed one weapon.
I have another.
He unslung his bow and nocked a bonedeath arrow. He stared down Meliai, his voice deadly as he said, “Give me that key, or I’ll release my arrow, pulverizing the bones of anyone within screaming distance.”
Meliai gasped. “You risk a war with the Nymphae? You’ll never enter our sacred places again!”
“So be it. Now talk. What do you have?”
Her gaze betrayed her, darting to her wall, to a raised knot in the wood. A concealed hollow?
“Something to show me?” He waved his bow. “Retrieve it.”
With a fearful look, she crossed to the wall. “My sisters and I will make you pay dearly for this.” She pressed a hidden latch, and a compartment opened. Among her cache of amber jewels was a gla.s.s case.
When he realized what she possessed, sweat beaded his upper lip. No, not a lock of Valkyrie hair. In the case was a fire-red feather.
A phoenix feather. He could sense its mystical power from here.
To an archer, it was priceless; to Rune, a game changer. He could use it to fashion the flights of an arrow, amplifying his magicks exponentially.
With that feather, he could create the most destructive arrow ever to fly.
SIXTY-TWO
Standing at the gates of h.e.l.l.
Wraith shrieks pained Jo’s ears, thunder booming in her stomach once more.