Scorched by Darkness: Eternal Mates Series Book 18 Read online

  He still couldn’t believe she had claimed him.

  He didn’t feel worthy of her, but he was going to move Hell, Heaven and everything in between to be a male who was, starting with protecting her from their common enemy.

  Hartt grabbed his black tunic jacket and pulled it on, buttoned it as he listened to his female moving around behind him.

  Mackenzie rounded him, a bounce in her step that he liked, together with that twinkle in her eyes. He snaked his arm around her waist and kissed her, sank into it a little when it was meant to be brief. She looped her arms around his neck and pushed her fingers into his hair, groaned in a way that got him going again.

  He forced himself to break the kiss, before they ended up tangled in the bedsheets.

  Once all this was over, he was taking her away to somewhere quiet where they were the only two people and he was going to spend a week or two worshipping her from dawn to dusk and back again.

  And even then, he wasn’t sure it would satisfy this need for her that blazed inside him.

  Hartt stared into her mesmerising eyes, meant to mention they should get back but those words fled his mind as she smiled at him, love shining in her golden gaze. An urge struck him, undeniable and so powerful that he had summoned the small wooden box to him before he had even considered what he was going to say. He rubbed his thumb over the delicately carved leaves and swirls on the box, nerves rising within him.

  “What’s that?” She frowned at his hand.

  Instead of trying to put his feelings into words that would never be good enough to convey the depth of his love for her, he simply opened the box and revealed its contents to her.

  Her eyes lit up, growing a little unfocused as she stared at the ring nestled among black velvet. He stared at it too, gaze tracing the beautifully sculpted silver dragon that clasped a bright amethyst in its claws and wings, forming the band of the ring. A ring that he now felt belonged on her finger. It had never been meant for Iolanthe.

  It had been made for Mackenzie.

  Her right hand lifted and she edged it forwards, eased it back and looked at him. “I want it. I do. It’s so shiny and I love it, but…”

  “But?” He didn’t like that word, wanted to growl as fear got the better of him, even though she had said she wanted it to adorn her finger.

  “My flames. I can’t wear jewellery. My flames don’t exactly agree with pretty, shiny things. I learned that the hard way.”

  Was that her only reservation? He searched her eyes and saw that it was, but that it was a big deal for her. She truly did like jewellery. She looked bewitched by the ring as her glowing eyes fell to it again.

  “It is yours, even if you only wear it when you’re not working so you won’t be in danger of destroying it.” He wanted to groan when she flicked him a heated look, one that said her phoenix fire didn’t only try to manifest when she was in the middle of a fight. He offered the ring to her, hoping to keep them both on topic and out of bed, because they really did need to get back to the vampire’s bastion.

  She sighed at it and then at him. “You really want me to have it?”

  He nodded. “With all my heart. It has been in my family for generations, and in my possession for centuries. It’s the only thing I have left of my family.”

  She cast another look at it, this one far more assessing, a hard edge to it.

  He knew what she was thinking. “She would have worn it, but I feel you are the one it was always intended for. It belongs on your finger, Mackenzie. You’re my ki’ara. My mate. My heart. The only female in this world I want and the only one I will ever need.”

  Her eyes misted and the feelings he could detect in her were as deep as the ones that filled his soul, so he let her off for casually shrugging and affecting a very blasé air, trying to cover how much the ring and his words meant to her.

  “I guess I could wear it from time to time. Since you asked nicely.” She was quick to make a grab for it, snatched it from his fingers and brought it close to her face, staring at it as if she were under a spell.

  He made a mental note that she really liked shiny, pretty things. She would have the finest jewellery, whatever her heart desired, and he wouldn’t complain if she wanted to strut around his quarters wearing nothing but her jewels.

  She gave the ring a pained look and mumbled, “I want to wear it, but I’m afraid I’ll melt it.”

  When she pouted, he took the box from her, slipped the ring from the velvet and took hold of her left hand. He slipped the ring onto her middle finger and, gods, it fitted perfectly. It really had been made for her.

  Just as he had been.

  Her brow furrowed as she gazed at the ring, admiring it, her feelings running through him and telling him how much she loved it and how touched she was that he had given it to her. He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to it, and she nudged him out of the way with her other hand.

  “I can’t see it.” She smiled wickedly when he mock-frowned at her. She sighed and canted her head. “Just let me stare at it a little longer and then put it away.”

  A little longer was close to what had to be fifteen minutes. Eventually, she blinked and snapped herself out of her trance, and huffed as she removed the ring and offered it to him.

  “Keep it safe. If you lose it, I’ll kill you.” She scowled at him and her emotions said she was serious.

  He placed the ring back in the wooden box. “I haven’t lost it in over two thousand years, I’m not going to lose it now.”

  Her eyes widened. “We going to talk about the fact you just admitted to being really old?”

  “No.” He took her hand and sent the ring away, back to the safe where he kept it with his other prized possessions. He tugged her to him and kissed her, hoping to distract her and stop her from asking how old he was. When he was sure she wouldn’t mention his age, he drew back and gazed down at her. “Ready?”

  “Ready,” she breathed against his lips, pressed her curves to his and threatened to have him forgetting the meeting they had left hours ago, one that was important.

  His instincts growled that only Mackenzie was important.

  The sensible part of him pointed out that was the reason they had to return. Mackenzie was important, only his role in life extended beyond pleasuring and satisfying her. It involved protecting her too. He had to deal with the witch, removing that danger from her life.

  The darkness purred in response to that, thoughts of dealing with the witch and making him suffer for daring to target his mate running through his mind.

  “Wow, whatever you’re feeling right now, I like it.” Her words made his blood run cold.

  He erected a wall between them, shutting that part of himself beyond her reach, and she scowled at him.

  He feathered his fingers across her cheek. “Some things in me you do not want to feel.”

  She looked hurt now and he sighed.

  “I am not holding myself back from you, Mackenzie. I am only protecting you. I’m not sure how the corrupted part of my soul might affect you.” He lifted his hand higher and brushed a rogue wave of scarlet hair from her face, his gaze following his finger as he tucked it behind her ear. “I will speak with Fuery about it and see what he knows. If Shaia is not affected by his darkness, then I will drop this barrier between us.”

  “Fine. I’ll let it slide for now. But only because I’m awesome.”

  That she was.

  He kissed her and teleported with her.

  Chapter 25

  Hartt landed in the small garden of the vampire stronghold with Mackenzie tucked close to him. When his feet touched the path, he set her back from him and took hold of her hand, laced their fingers together and started back towards the large golden-yellow building with her.

  He braced himself when several vampires looked his way, some of them even stopping along their route to the training grounds. Rather than experiencing a black need to tear their heads off for looking at Mackenzie, he felt only a need to sneer at th
em for being vampires. Which was progress and as much as he could have hoped for.

  As an elf, he wasn’t ever getting over his hatred of vampires.

  “You feel… surprised.” Mackenzie’s soft voice warmed him, easing his need to eradicate the vampires to remove the black stain their breed formed on the name of his kind.

  He shrugged, the action raising the hem of his black jacket. “I don’t feel a pressing need to murder them.”

  Two female servants, one blonde and one brunette, both wearing long black corseted dresses with a white pinafore, paused and glanced his way.

  Mackenzie positively growled. “Must be refreshing.”

  He felt the need that roared inside her, a black hunger for violence. Apparently, her instincts as his fated one hadn’t been tamed by forming a bond with him. When she began to veer towards the females, he reined her in, tugged on her hand and spun her to face him.

  And kissed her.

  It seemed to be enough to calm her, had her need to harm the females falling away as she sank into it.

  She sighed as she broke the kiss. “That’s better.”

  At least his plan had worked and he knew what to do in the future now, how to alleviate her and tame her instincts.

  He started towards the main building with her again, led her through the archway and into the building, and up to the library. When he pushed the door open, everyone fell silent, those who had their backs to him turning towards him.

  He ushered Mackenzie inside, not failing to notice the awkward edge her emotions gained as a few people looked at her. Syn in particular evoked that feeling in her, and Hartt hoped Mackenzie wasn’t ashamed of her bond with him and what they had done.

  She reassured him by keeping hold of his hand and stepping up beside him, remaining close to him.

  “Shame, shame,” Syn muttered with a devious grin.

  Mackenzie blushed and toyed with her hair on her left side. The side he had bitten. She smoothed it down and he had the feeling she was hiding his mark. Buying herself time to come up with a way to break it to her friend gently? He could practically feel her mind whirling and racing. Syn had made it clear around a thousand times since arriving that she didn’t want her friend to end up ‘shackled’ to him. He squeezed Mackenzie’s hand, wishing he could tell her that everything would be fine, but he knew it wouldn’t be.

  When Syn discovered they were mated, she was going to explode.

  Hartt didn’t have such a problem with Fuery. His friend offered him a smile that was strained, but one that said he knew what had transpired and that he was happy for him.

  Grave scowled at him, his dark eyebrows pinching hard as his pale blue irises gained a crimson corona.

  “You could have at least bathed,” he grumbled, a bitterness in his tone that reeked of envy, and then ran a hand down his face as he tipped his head back. “I miss Isla.”

  Isla was Grave’s phantom mate. The vampire had sent her away two days ago, convincing her to travel to visit her remaining family—a demon called Frey—in order to keep her safe and stop her from getting involved in the fight against the witch.

  While Hartt could understand Grave’s desire to protect his mate, a feeling that ran deep in his blood too, he would have preferred the phantom had remained and not because it would have improved the vampire’s slowly degenerating mood.

  Phantoms were extremely powerful, a force few could stand against. Isla had been made corporeal, but it hadn’t diminished her strength or negated her ability to kill someone with only a kiss, devouring their soul to nourish herself and make herself stronger. Like phoenix shifters, phantoms were heavily targeted by a specific type of mage, were highly prized and hunted mercilessly. Grave hadn’t wanted his mate exposed to the evil intentions of another mage, something she had survived once but he feared she wouldn’t survive again.

  Gods, Hartt felt the same way about Mackenzie.

  He didn’t want her anywhere near a witch who specialised in magic involving phoenix blood, especially one whose family had been responsible for the murder of her kin.

  “Did you make any progress with the plan?” Mackenzie leaned forwards and studied the documents scattered across the table, drawing Hartt’s gaze to her.

  He ran it over her curves, felt that wicked heat ignite in his veins again as she glanced over her shoulder at him and he thought about her in that position when she was naked. She arched a chastising eyebrow at him, but the fire that burned in her irises said she liked the path of his thoughts.

  Grave cleared his throat, shaking Hartt from his reverie and causing a blush to climb Mackenzie’s cheek as she straightened. Syn rolled her amber eyes at her friend and pretended to neaten her black hair, but Hartt had figured out her nervous tell and wasn’t surprised when her fingers brushed the smooth onyx of her horns. Syn refused to look at the vampire or Fuery, and Hartt had the feeling she had gotten into an argument with one or both of them while he and Mackenzie had been absent.

  Hartt guessed it must have been Fuery, because his friend stood at the opposite end of the long oak table to her, his black-edged-violet eyes locked on her and a scowl knitting his jet eyebrows. He frowned as he noticed that strands of Fuery’s overlong blue-black hair had been pulled loose from the silver clasp that usually held the top half back from his face and his friend was wearing only his black armour now, the tiny scales covering him from neck to toe.

  Hartt tossed a glare at Syn as he broke away from Mackenzie to go to Fuery. The demoness averted her gaze and scuffed the heel of her black knee-high boots across the wooden floor. Earned herself a growl from the vampire for abusing the boards.

  He sensed Mackenzie’s gaze on him, savoured it as he walked right up to Fuery and pulled him into an embrace. Fuery was still for a moment, but then he wrapped his arms around Hartt and began to relax.

  “I should not have stayed away so long.” He spoke in the elven tongue, keeping their conversation private as he captured Fuery’s shoulders and pushed him back so he could see him. Worry ate at him as he noticed the darkness in Fuery’s eyes, how close to black they were. “Perhaps you should spend some time with Shaia? Does it help when you spend time with her? Does it… does the darkness affect her?”

  Hartt swallowed his racing heart as he waited for Fuery to answer that question.

  Fuery’s eyes were open and honest as he replied in the same language. “The darkness… Shaia does feel it in me and it can affect her to a degree, but when she feels it, she is quick to come to me and calm me. I do not like that it affects her, but in a way, I am grateful that it does because it means she knows when I need her. Without her, I think I would not be getting better at controlling it. I want to be able to control it and vanquish it for her sake… so she no longer experiences an echo of it through our bond.”

  That wasn’t the comfort Hartt had hoped it would be. Part of him had hoped Fuery would tell him that Shaia wasn’t affected by the darkness and that he was safe to lower his guard around Mackenzie. He glanced at her, caught the worry in her eyes as she looked at him, and knew she had sensed his unease. The fact that Shaia was helping strengthen Fuery’s control over the darkness was a good thing though and he was eager to see if Mackenzie could do the same for him, helping him claw his way back towards the light.

  For now though, he would keep the wall between her and the darkness in place.

  “You should go to Shaia.” He squeezed Fuery’s shoulder and smiled for him, wanting to alleviate the worry he could sense in his friend.

  Fuery began to nod, but then shook his head, his brow furrowing as his gaze lifted to lock with Hartt’s. “I should be here.”

  “It feels as if it is growing late. We should probably all rest anyway.” And hopefully Shaia would come to visit her mate, would sense his need of her and spend the night with him. Hartt sighed. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

  Fuery forced a smile. “It was fine. You needed to be with your ki’ara.”

  “But the demoness said someth
ing to upset you.” He was careful not to mention the demoness by name, was aware of how she was watching them, listening hard to their conversation. If he mentioned her name, Syn would know they were talking about her in a language she didn’t understand.

  Fuery’s smile faltered, darkness washing across his features as he glanced towards the demoness.

  His words were a black growl as he said, “She does not think you worthy of her friend.”

  “She is merely protective and, from my experience, is apparently unable to handle that feeling with decorum and without resorting to violence.” Hartt had been given his own taste of her caustic brand of protectiveness over the last few days and he doubted she was going to change her attitude towards him now that he and Mackenzie were mated.

  In fact, he wholeheartedly expected her to get worse.

  “She attacked me.” Fuery glared in her direction as he spoke those words in the elven tongue.

  “You want a piece of me,” Syn snarled, and Mackenzie muttered something as she moved to her friend, as he sensed her holding the demoness back. “It’s not my bloody fault. They’re talking smack about me. I know it.”

  “Yeah, and I know you probably deserve it,” Mackenzie muttered. “Oh, don’t give me that look. I bet you went prodding and poking him the second I went to check on Hartt.”

  That was followed by a long sigh that made him want to look at his mate.

  “Syn, you’re just going to have to accept that he’s my mate now.”

  The demoness exploded. “He’s your what now?”

  Hartt did look back at Mackenzie to check on her now. Syn looked more than a little horrified, her mouth agape and eyes wide as she stared at his mate. The demoness’s expression only grew more shocked as Mackenzie brought her hand up and swept her hair back, revealing the left side of her throat.

  “You bit her! You son of a bitch.” Syn tried to barge past Mackenzie, but his beautiful female stepped into her path and held her back.

  “I… might have… started it.” Mackenzie’s rigid shoulders sagged and he sensed the resolve that flowed through her, heard it in her voice as she said, “I did start it. I bit him. Well, clawed him. I took his blood, Syn. You want to be mad at anyone, be mad at me. It was my choice.”