Page 127 of Thirst
The words sealed it.
The bond surged so fast and hard, my chest jerked. Energy crackled between us. A thousand colorful threads wove themselves into a single, shimmering rainbow that pulsed from me to him and back again.
Something burst open inside me, brilliant and alive, a blossom made of light.
I brought a hand to my heart. How could I have believed I’d make Cain vulnerable, that I’d be a weakness others could exploit?
The mate bond didn’t make you less. It made you more. Each of us reinforcing the other, our two energies twining into something strong and unbreakable.
Cain’s strong throat worked. “I love you,” my beautiful, dangerous man mouthed, uncaring of the roomful of syndicate vampires watching.
Nazaire turned to Brien, voice slick with contempt. “This lovesick fool is one of your lieutenants?”
I brought my hand down. In that moment, I almost felt sorry for my sire.
Cain had outmaneuvered him, devising the perfect way to severe my ties with both Nazaire and the QCS without igniting a blood feud. No one, even Régis Dussault, could cry foul if Cain won a public challenge witnessed by members of both syndicates.
And if my sire thought Cain would be easy game, he really was an ass.
Brien just lifted a brow. “Your second?” he asked Nazaire.
“Maxime. And my witnesses will be Rodrigo and Théo.” He nodded at my cousin and another soldier.
“When and where?” Brien asked.
“Now. And the place will be the cemetery above.” Nazaire pointed at the ceiling. “One blade only.”
Brien glanced at Cain. “One blade only,” he agreed.
“We accept,” said Brien.
Talon bent to reclaim Cain’s weapons. Nazaire snapped at Théo to collect the blades instead, but Brien cut him off.
“I know you’re not insulting us by suggesting we’d break the challenge terms,” he said coolly. “Because everyone in this room heard me and Cain agree.”
Twin blotches of red colored Nazaire’s sallow cheeks. “Of course not,” he said, tight-lipped.
“That’s what I thought,” Brien replied.
35
Cain
We headed back to the cemetery, Nazaire and two other QCS men in front, three more shadowing us from behind. Adrian carried Perla, a thick velvet throw tucked around her.
I locked my fingers around Nyx’s, the terror from earlier still thrumming in me. I was still coming down from it, fighting the urge to snarl at anyone who came too close.
Sweet Lilith, I never wanted to live through something like that again.
Watching Nazaire turn on her—my mate—had nearly sent me over the edge. The other vampire’s mouth had been set, his eyes like pools of black ice. The bastard had been willing—no, eager—to sacrifice his own spawn if it meant getting a chance at Brien.
It had taken every ounce of my control to bargain with him when what I wanted to do was rip off his fucking head and watch it roll across the veined black marble. But I’d forced myself to stick to the plan. It was the only way to pry Nyx loose from both him and the QCS.
The downside was that if I lost, Brien would be forced to welcome Nyx’s snake of a sire into the syndicate as a lieutenant. It was a hell of an ask on my part, and I knew it. But we’d all agreed—Brien, Twilight, Talon, and me—that if it came down to it, this was the best way to ensure Nazaire didn’t survive the night.
We exited through the wrought-iron doors of a weathered crypt. Ahead of me, Brien and Talon swept narrow-eyed looks across the cemetery, assessing for threats the way other men breathed.
Nazaire strutted over the snow-laced grass in his fancy suit, arrogance clinging to him like a cologne. He was so damn sure he’d win. Yeah, he had a couple of centuries on me—and vampires grew in power as they aged—but I was a lieutenant in one of the largest, toughest syndicates on the continent.
