Timeless (Pandora Book 1) (18 page)

“Good.” His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward over his desk. “Now, tell me how the hell a Morph ended up in my compound.”

Vane recounted the story, deferring to Charlotte to fill in the blanks. “The Atreans are controlling the Morphs with the Seal of Solomon. The ring Asa was wearing.”

Asa Brax had vanished just after Charlotte’s abduction, leaving behind no trace of his whereabouts. The guards had searched Pandora, the city, and even scoured the outlying villages. Asa’s ship remained under guard in the landing fields on the other side of the frozen lake, but so far, they hadn’t been able to locate the little weasel.

When Vane found him—and he would find him—he was going to peel the skin off the Atrean strip by strip.

Crossing his arms, Xavian shifted his weight to his right leg and then back to his left. “How do we know this Torren guy isn’t also being controlled by the Seal?”

“I don’t think he is.” He’d have to confirm his suspicions with the chroniclers, but he had a theory. “I think the Seal of Solomon is a Legacy Relic. The Atreans can wield it, but since Asa Brax isn’t a Legacy, the ring is beginning to lose its power over the Morphs.”

The commander stared at some point over Vane’s shoulder and nodded several times. “It would explain the rebellion.”

“And why the Atreans are desperate to find another way to control them,” Xavian added.

“Torren was right.” Damn, Vane didn’t think he’d ever hear those words coming from his mouth. “The time for neutrality is over.”

Whether they liked it or not, war was coming. It might not happen right away. It could be weeks, months, or even years before someone fired the first shot, but it would come, and they needed to be ready.

Xavian broke the silence first, snorting as he stared down at his boots and shook his head. “All this over a damn female.”

Tucking Charlotte against his side, Vane held her close and kissed the top of her head. Maybe Xavian had a point, but for Vane, she was definitely worth fighting for.

Things remained quiet throughout the following week, but anticipation of things to come hung over Pandora in a thick cloud. Vane didn’t reveal many details, but Charli could feel his anxiety, and she, too, worried they waited in the calm just before the storm.

“Charli, are you ready?”

Shaking out of her depressing thoughts, Charli turned to smile at Vane’s mother. “I’m ready.”

“I have to join the other elders, but you’re going to do just fine.” Pushing back the hood of her purple robe, Neith held Charli’s face in both hands and kissed her brow. “I’m grateful he has you.”

“I’ll take good care of him,” Charli promised, though she knew she should be the one offering gratitude.

With one last look, Neith repositioned the hood over her head and disappeared through the double doors of the Hall, leaving Charli alone in the lobby. Her body tingled with nervous energy, and it took several deep breaths before make her feet move to follow.

Dressed in a pink gown with thin straps and a gossamer overlay, Charli had left her hair loose to cascade over her bare shoulders. Though he’d never said anything, she knew Vane liked her hair down so he could thread his fingers through it when he kissed her.

Sucking in one more deep breath for courage, she released it slowly and reached for the door with a trembling hand.

The Hall looked exactly the same as she remembered it from Vane’s trial, although without as many people. The elders sat in their high-back chairs along the dais, their hoods casting shadows over their faces. Rows of curved benches stretched from the center of the room back to the walls, separated by wide aisles like the one Charli currently strode down.

Xavian, Lex, and Eryx sat together in one of the front rows, grinning at her as she made her way to the center of the room. A little further back, Commander Schiva watched on, his arms crossed over his chest, but the hint of a smile curved his lips. Even Torren was there, though he remained in the dark alcove near the staircase that led to the overhead balcony.

It all faded away when Vane turned and met her gaze.

Dressed in his uniform of black leathers and a fitted, long-sleeve shirt, he waited for her in the center of the Hall, his eyes shining with warmth as he offered his hand. Placing her fingers against his warm palm, Charli gasped when he bent her backwards, burying his fingers in her hair and kissing her soundly in front of everyone.

“You look beautiful,
prya
. Are you nervous?”

“A little,” she admitted as he pulled her upright again.

“Just focus on me, okay?” He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “I love you.”

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Charli offered him a wobbly smile. “I love you, too, Vane.”

“Don’t be afraid. It won’t hurt, and it’ll all be over before you know it.”

“I’m not afraid.” It seemed funny now that she’d once balked at the idea of wearing his mark. She wanted this, a visible representation of their love, a beacon that proclaimed to everyone who owned her heart. “I’m ready.”

Standing before her, Vane lifted his voice for everyone in the Hall to hear. “Charlotte Rousseau, I promise to protect, honor, and cherish you. I will love you in this life and the next, until the stars fade from the sky. You will never be alone, will never want for anything.” Bending, he pressed his lips to her ear to whisper the last part of his declaration. “You are my heart, my soul, my very breath. You are my everything. Do you accept me as your own?”

Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over, but Charli didn’t bother to wipe them away. “I do.”

“See?” Vane murmured as he moved to stand behind her. “Not so bad.”

Cool metal brushed against her skin, and a delicate chain draped around her neck. “Vane?”

He quieted her with a gentle kiss to her nape. “Your skin is too beautiful to mark,
prya
. This will work just as well.”

Charli didn’t need to be able to feel his emotions to know he was lying. He’d done this for her, because he knew she’d been anxious about the brand that other Nekros females wore. She wanted to wear his mark, though, not just for him, but for herself as well.

“Vane, it’s perfect, but…” Turning toward him, she removed the chain and stared down at the silver, winged dagger with Vane’s initials caved into the hilt and smiled. Then she dropped the choker into his right palm and curled his fingers over it. “I’m not afraid.”

“Be sure, Charlotte. Once it’s done, it can’t be undone.”

“That’s what I want.”

Pocketing the necklace, Vane curled his fingers around the back of her neck, gentle cradling her throat as red, flickering flames erupted from his palms. A warm tingle spread across her skin, starting at her nape and moving to the hollow of her throat, just above her collarbones.

As the heat dissipated, Vane tugged her closer to claim her lips. “Thank you,” he said simply.

“Can I see it?”

Chuckling under his breath, he removed one of his daggers from his belt and held it horizontal to the floor with the flat side of the blade facing her. “Will this suffice?”

Staring into the reflection of the shiny blade, Charli traced the raised, pale lines on her neck that crisscrossed like the links of a chain. In an exact replica of the choker, the lines came together to form a small, winged dagger with Vane’s initials clearly visible in the hilt.

Tears ran hot and thick down her cheeks, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “
Now
, it’s perfect.”

* * * *

Seeing his mark on her skin, knowing she truly belonged to him, Vane hadn’t been able to get Charlotte home fast enough. Once the ceremony had concluded, he’d gritted his teeth and smiled while his friends and family congratulated him, but he’d been too impatient to keep up the charade for long. The instant they’d walked in the door of their apartment, however, he hadn’t been smiling anymore.

“I need you,
prya
.”

Kissing his way down her throat and back up to her mouth, he carried her to his bedroom—their bedroom—and lowered her atop the downy comforter on the matter. He insinuated himself between her legs, supporting his weight with one hand while he buried the other in her silky hair.

With a breathy moan, Charlotte curled her arms around his neck and caged his hips with her thighs, pulling him down into a kiss that shattered his world. Out of his mind with need, Vane didn’t just return the kiss, he ravished her, drinking down her affection.

Soft, supple, and flushed with desire, Charlotte’s fair skin warmed against his palms as he caressed her thigh beneath the hem of her dress. Every touch set him on fire, and each quiet whimper made his head spin, but he needed more. He wanted to surround his mate, to overwhelm, enrapture, and consume her until everything else faded away.

Without care or gentleness, he stripped out of his clothes and then returned to Charlotte, undressing her with fumbling hands as the fever gripped him. She was more beautiful than he had words to describe, both inside and out, and for some unfathomable reason, she’d chosen him. Vane vowed to never take that gift for granted.

Though he wanted to take his time, to savor each kiss, each caress, to relearn every inch of Charlotte’s body all over again, he knew he didn’t possess the control. He’d been strung too tight since the first kiss they’d shared inside the Hall, hovering on the edge and just waiting to fall.

“Don’t stop,” Charlotte panted. Lifting her hips from the mattress, she rubbed against him with a needy moan, welcoming him eagerly between her splayed legs. “Please don’t stop.”

Dropping his face into the crook of her neck, Vane breathed in her warm scent and groaned. “I love the sounds you make.” Slipping a hand between their damp bodies, he slid his index finger down Charlotte’s crease, gently opening her and grinning when her soaked entrance fluttered against his touch. “Tell me you want me.”

Charlotte sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and whimpered as she rocked against Vane’s hand, seeking more friction and growing visibly frustrated when he wouldn’t give it to her. “Vane, please!”

“Oh, no,
prya
.” He dipped two fingers into her tight, slick opening, turned his wrist, and then pulled his hand away. “Say it.”

Trembling, Charlotte writhed against him, making the most delicious sounds as her eyes lit with a wild, feral desire. “Please,” she whimpered. “I feel like I’m on fire. I need you, so stop teasing and fuck me.”

“That’s my girl.” Vane’s quiet laughter tuned into a deep groan when she arched against him, rubbing her slick folds along his.

Grasping her left hip and pinning her to the bed, Vane guided the head of his cock to her velvety core and thrust hard, driving deep into her clenching heat. When she called his name on a ragged moan, the chains of restraint fell away. Burying his face against the side of Charlotte’s neck, he snapped his hips, plunging into her with a desperation that scared him.

Sliding one arm under her arching back, he locked it around her like a steel band and held tightly, whispering endearments and declarations as their bodies undulated together. When Charlotte stiffened beneath him, her inner walls squeezing him, milking him, he held tighter, whispering her name as he finally let himself fall.

“I love you.” Charlotte held him as she stroked his hair. “Don’t move,” she whispered, clamping her knees against his hips when he tried to roll away from her. “Just stay for a minute.”

He could lay in her arms for the rest of his days, and it still wouldn’t be long enough. Her contentment, her love, her unbound joy—it flowed into him, warming his skin and swelling his chest with emotion.

Things wouldn’t always be easy, but then, the best things in life never were. By fate, destiny, a miracle, or something even bigger, he’d been given a second chance, and he intended to make every second of it count.

The Atreans would come or they wouldn’t, but Vane refused to waste time worrying about it. If they wanted a war, he’d give them a war, because after centuries of endless battles, he finally had something worth fighting for.

THE END

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Born with a silver tongue and a pen in her hand, Kali spends her days sleeping (she's part vampire) and her nights crafting scandalous romances with larger-than-life heroes.

Self-proclaimed patron goddess of reclusiveness, Kali currently resides in the Midwest with her oddly supportive family and tragically misunderstood cat. 

Seriously, though, the cat is evil.

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