Covet the Night, page 40
"I vowed to Laurel—on my honor—to take just one bite and under her supervision, if that should please you." Luka rubbed small, coaxing circles against her lower back, his voice lowering as the music came to an end. He guided them from the dance floor, his lips near her ear. "She assured me that you'd yet to be spoken for and encouraged me to seek you out," he continued, gliding his cold fingers up her cheekbone to snare one of the wispy curls framing her face. "I was her first as well, and it would please me greatly to know I’ve had the privilege of tasting you both first, outside your sire's fang."
A rush of light-headedness hit Gwen at the information and Luka's silken delivery, and she took a step back. "You spoke with Laurel?"
He nodded, almost absentmindedly, his eyes glued to her bare neck.
Survival instincts taking over, she lurched back only to discover her retreat barred by Luka's arm. She bit her tongue to stifle a gasp. The nearness of his body lent a chill to Gwen, which only heightened as his nose grazed hers.
"There is no need to fear," he crooned in his guttural accent. "Laurel would not have encouraged me if she did not trust me to make your first bite of the utmost pleasure."
Gwen pressed his hands against his chest to no avail and twisted her head reluctantly to break their intense connection. His cheek and hair brushed the side of her face before his cool kiss whispered over her neck.
"I shall consider your offer." She pushed harder against him as she cast a helpless gaze about the room. No one met her eye. "Please stop."
Luka pulled away with a frown. "You are unhappy with my attentions?"
"I merely wish to prolong our… flirtation." Gwen's heart fluttered as his displeasure receded, replaced with a satisfied smile. She offered a weak smile back, her head throbbing at the small action. The necklace's enchantment was truly no match for this torrent of emotions. She was doomed.
"Will you be dancing with the lady or holding her hostage for the rest of the evening?"
Gwen sucked in a sharp breath at William's roughened and confident voice, but she dared not turn around and face him.
Luka's grip tightened, his satisfaction morphing to cool contempt.
"I do only as my lady commands." She winced and worked to steady her racing pulse. A slight tremor went through her. "Are you all right?"
Gwen gave a hasty nod and turned away from Luka's seeking touch as it glided under her chin. "I'm not used to such attention."
Luka's chest puffed up against her, his hand falling away. "The lady will—"
"Dance."
Though Luka stepped back, his face was creased with offense. "You wish to dance with him?"
"She wishes you'd—"
"I can speak for myself," Gwen snapped, then counted to ten before daring to look at Luka. "As I said before, I wish to prolong our dance."
Luka tugged her close, drawing a startled squawk from Gwen. "As you wish." He kissed her neck behind her ear, where his cool exhale teased the fine hair there. Goose bumps rose despite herself, and then he was gone. She enjoyed a moment of silence before William's voice, now noticeably closer, drew her back to reality.
"Am I so easily replaced?"
She balled her hands at her sides as she turned around to face him. "You—" Gwen reared back, mouth falling agape. "You cut your hair."
"Aye," William rumbled, watching the way she stared at him wide-eyed. He'd had it trimmed and styled by one of his brothers. It was cut closer to his head with just enough length to style into a careless fashion. "Do you like it?"
She began to nod but stopped herself short of completing the action. Her eyes blazed with fury and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. As for the rest of her…. He swallowed consecutively. She'd never looked more beautiful, but all the makeup in the world and fine clothes couldn't hide the impression of bone against flesh.
"It's nice," she grumbled, her eyes darting to the dance floor. "Well?"
William frowned as he took her hand and guided her to the checkered arena. She was acting odd, and he suspected feeling worse. He moved them slowly around the edge of the dance floor. Gwen was staring at his chest, and her expression strained with—
"You shouldn't have asked me to dance." She peeked at him before pinning her gaze to his chest again.
"And why's that?"
"Because I left you." Her voice cracked, and along with it, his heart. William fought against every instinct to pull her close and ravish her. To hell with the Roux and the Dark Court. He wanted to prove to her that they were made for each other until she was helpless to deny it. "We can't be together," she murmured. He could hear her punctuated breathing as she tried valiantly to control her emotions. "I'm so close now." The sound of her voice, broken and desperate, hit him like a sucker punch.
"Close to what?" He stiffened. "Dying?"
She shivered in his arms, the act a visible ripple down her body. William stopped their dancing as dread washed over him. Slowly, her head lifted, and she met his worried gaze.
"I don't know if I can do this," Gwen said with tears growing in her eyes.
He set his jaw in a hard line.
"Follow me," he said, taking her hand and guiding them toward the back of the room.
Gwen glanced at him. Unease and palpable relief were warring inside her, and the battle was only more intense given the number of eyes watching their retreat. The necklace was failing with each step, jarring her entire being. "Where are we going?"
"Just out into the hallway, where we can get a bit more privacy. I've got an idea that may help your situation."
"I can't," Gwen protested weakly. "I'm not supposed to leave the Lunarium. The sisterhood took extra precautions to make sure we could enjoy ourselves tonight without worry, as long as we didn't leave." She swept her gaze over the masked attendants. They whispered and smirked as the pair passed them. Anxiety pumped through her.
Sensing the change in her, William stopped them a few yards from the exit. His calloused palm cradled the back of her neck as his thumb coaxed her pulse to a calming beat. "You never have to worry about your safety when I'm around, Gwen. You know what you mean to me."
Her bottom lip trembled as she nodded.
"Come on." He slid his hand down and took hers, interlacing their fingers as he tugged them forward.
They made it a few steps before Danica appeared before them in a flash of skirts and sequins. "Where are you going?"
"We were just—" Gwen's mouth ran dry as she looked up at William. His expression was set in stone. "We were just going outside to talk away from all the prying ears and eyes."
Danica narrowed her gaze on their joined hands. She was silent a long while before she lifted her gaze to Gwen. "Your affair will never last if you cannot carry out a proper clandestine meeting," she reprimanded on the back of a sigh. Her gaze flickered to William. "You, go out into the hallway first. Gwen will meet you out there in less than a minute."
"If you think—"
"I think I could have the entire sisterhood bearing down upon you in a single breath. Now, do as I say if you wish to speak with her privately."
The couple entered into a wary silence, exchanging furtive glances before Gwen nodded. William squeezed her hand and strode toward the door with nonchalance.
When the door closed behind him, Gwen returned her gaze to Danica. Her blue eyes studied Gwen unabashedly and made her fidget with the fabric of her skirts. "Do you love him?"
"What?"
Danica blinked, unmoved by Gwen's bewilderment. "Do you love him?" she asked a second time.
"I… I don't know. I haven't known him for very long or really spent much time with him. We—"
"Does that matter?"
Gwen's lips parted, brows drawing down. "Doesn't it?"
Danica reached out, ghosting her fingers over Gwen's heart. "What matters lies in here," she said patiently and with a touch of sadness. She dropped her hand back to her side. "It's a simple question, really. You either love him, or you don't. Which is it?"
For the life of her, Gwen couldn't tear her eyes away from Danica's. Wetness gathered at her lash line as she struggled to respond.
"I see," Danica said empathetically. "Go, then. It's been a minute." Gwen wiped discreetly at her eyes. "Don't be more than fifteen minutes, or they'll send someone out to find you." Danica waited for Gwen's acknowledgment before kissing her cheek. "I hope you know what you're doing," she whispered. "Be careful, Gwendolyn."
Gwen nervously ran her hands over the fabric of her skirt, smoothing out its wrinkles as she began to walk toward the door. She cast a glance both left and right and faltered as she spotted a couple watching her. It was Briar and Sebastian.
She felt like a deer caught in headlights. Their masks lay in their hands, offering an unobscured view of their faces. Sebastian's expression was blank as he studied her, and Briar's was… sympathetic?
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she picked up her pace and exited without another moment’s hesitation.
XXIV
W
illiam waited in a small closet down the hall for Gwen. He'd left it open to hear her approach and signal to where he was in the moonlit hall. Apprehension clamped around his chest as he twisted his wrist to check his watch.
Forty seconds and counting.
He trusted Gwen to come, but Danica? He’d heard what happened to her human lover. It wasn't the first time a lover of the Roux was discarded in favor of the "good of the sisterhood," nor would it be the last.
One minute six seconds.
Hinges whined in the distance. A flood of strings sang into the hall before cutting off as the sound of a door softly shut. Footfalls reached his ears.
"You're shivering," William said as he stepped out of the closet and caught sight of her.
Gwen shuffled to a stop, unable to look him in the eye. He closed the distance between them. A sense of foreboding prickled at his skin, watching her head bob dully. William slipped off his suit jacket and wrapped it around her, leading her to the closet without another word. He shut the door behind him and groped above for the closet light's string. It came to life in a weak sputter, burning bright before fizzling to a muted glow thanks to its thick layer of dust.
"Talk to me," he whispered.
She was leaning against the door, clutching his jacket like a straitjacket.
"Everything is going wrong," she said, her face scrunching up in a mixture of anger and pain. "The tincture is gone. This stupid necklace is failing. I was supposed to be turned two nights ago… and I'm just so damn tired." She squeezed her eyes shut, producing a few tears and a pair of dark smudges where her lashes met her cheeks. "Ever since my mom died, it feels like all I've ever done is survive. And when I got my diagnosis, I thought, 'This is it. This is your last chance to live. You better go see the world before it's too late.'"
Gwen's lashes fluttered open, and her absent gaze alighted on some object to his right.
"That's why I left home, so I could live and see the world, even if it was just for a short while. And then Laurel came, and suddenly I realized all I had to do was survive a little longer and make it through this initiation. I'd survived for the past… God—" She tilted her head back, knocking against the wood as she stared at the ceiling. "—twenty years? What were a few more weeks when the payout was what I craved."
William crowded closer, anchoring a hand over her head. "But?" he asked quietly, reaching with his other hand to wipe the tears from her face and clear away the dark smudges.
Her eyes glistened as they stared back at him in defeat. "I don't think I can do this anymore. Survive. I don't have the strength, and I'm barely fooling the sisterhood." She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, expression growing weary. "They'll find out I'm sick and do away with Laurel and me and all the others. Poppy, Hazel, Lily, and Violet. Maybe if I'm lucky, Laurel will kill me out of mercy to spare the others."
"Gwen—"
"You won't," she accused, voice hitching as she glanced at him. Fresh tears streamed down her face.
William's heart contracted. "It's not that, love," he explained, eyes pleading with her to understand. "I don't know if I can turn you."
Her mouth formed the shape of an O. "What do you mean?"
"There are only three known hybrids, all of whom reside in this court. None of us have attempted creating another being with our blood." He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand before twisting to cradle her jaw. "I can't say for certain that you would turn if you took my blood. Part of me—most of me—thinks it'd be for naught," he confessed, forcing the words out of his mouth. "They call me Beast for good reason. I'm not natural, Gwen. I lost and gained in equal amounts when I became a hybrid, but the ability to give life? My gut says that wasn't something I gained."
"What am I supposed to do?"
A black hole began to swallow Gwen the moment the words left her mouth. The ominous force of it devoured her hope and strength. William tenderly drew her focus back to him, his thumb rubbing small circles across her flesh.
"You have options, Gwen."
"Oh really?" She chuckled bitterly, tossing her arms up in the air only for them to flop back down at her sides. She swallowed roughly, searching his eyes for some amount of understanding. "Because the only scenario I see playing out is me dying—permanently. Either they find out and kill me, or I don't survive the transition at all." Her shoulders sagged. "Hazel told me it's harder for a weak body to transition, and that pretty much sums me up perfectly."
He frowned at her derision. "Sweet, I can speak with Cynfor."
Gwen fidgeted. "Your head of household?"
"Aye." Taut lines appeared next to the corner of William's eyes and mouth. "If I told him of our soulmark, there's a good chance he'd be persuaded to take you in and turn you himself. But he's not keen on turning those weak of body either. He thinks it’s irresponsible because the chances of transitioning aren't as likely."
Gwen grimaced in pain, shifting her body against the door to ease her discomfort. Nausea toyed with her stomach. "Just like Hazel said." She dabbed at her face, trying admirably to pull herself together if only to survive one more night. "What are the chances he would agree?"
"I'm an asset to the household. There's no denying it. And since I rarely make requests, it would be taken under serious consideration. The soulmark will work in our favor, but your condition and the retribution by the Roux will be a mark against us."
Her hope deflated.
"So that's it? We hope your head of household will agree to turn me in the next twenty-four hours?"
"Twenty-four…." William went still before his body shuddered with the force of his constraint.
Gwen laid both hands against his chest, fingers curling into the starch fabric covering it. William couldn't meet her eye. "I can feel my body shutting down. It's difficult just to stand here." A bitter laugh erupted out of her as tears threatened her vision once again. She sniffed them back. "Laurel tried bringing me different potions and medicines to help manage the pain, but I can't keep any of it down. The necklace is enchanted to numb everything. I've been on autopilot for nights, but its power is fading. Fast."
William's nostrils flared as he wiped at his mouth and jaw. "There's one last option," he rumbled. "One last card I could play that I doubt would be refused."
He heard her heart skip a beat. "What?"
"The Vranas. They owe me."
A coarse shiver racked her slight frame. "You're joking." Dawning horror etched its way over her features. "You saw what they had me do to Briar. The Roux despise the Vranas. There's too much history between them—too much bad blood. If they found out it was the Vranas who turned me, they'd never be satisfied until I met my true death."
"There's nothing to say we couldn't leave here once you're turned."
Gwen spared him a bleak look before taking his hand from her face and running her fingertips over the amethyst ring on his finger. "They took it from me, and unless you can procure another, I won't be going anywhere."
William's eyes shuttered. "What we need is more time. Time to make a better plan and execute it."
She caressed his jaw. Freshly trimmed and oiled, it was surprisingly smooth to the touch. "We're out of time, William."
"No." Gwen flinched at the vicious snarl and the speed at which he turned from her. "No," he repeated softer, his back still to her. "I can buy us more time. Here. Now."
"William—"
He pivoted with care, head, then torso, then bottom revolving to face her. His metallic eyes never left hers. "Do you remember what I told you about the soulmark? The sealing and marking specifically?" Gwen nodded as he stepped up to her with predatory grace. The textured pads of his fingers danced over her hands before clasping them in his own. "If we performed them now, I could take on your pain and lessen it. And in return, you can take some of my strength."
The seconds passed like hours as his words sank in. Could it be possible? All at once, Gwen was overcome with gratitude. She was in awe of his generosity, his kindness, his love—
Pain saturated her body as the onslaught of emotion broke past the necklace's defense. She cried out weakly as her knees gave out, but William's sure grip was there before she ever came close to the ground.
"Gwen?"
"Do it," she said through gritted teeth.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." Her assent was given on the back of a rough-hewn gasp. "Hurry."
It was too much. The pain and flood of emotion were all-encompassing. Debilitating. Her strength fled completely as she lay limp in his arms.
With vague comprehension, Gwen pieced together the following moments. A brawny arm supported the length of her back. A large hand cradled her head. William's breath fanned over her cheek, then coasted past her collarbone as dark spots began to enter her vision, blurring the room to indistinguishable marks.
