Chapter 24: Take/Give - Hunger & Harmony

“Get back.”

That wasn’t one voice, but both Niko and Viola. I clench my teeth. Agony flares under my skin, but I can’t let them stand against each other. I won’t let them misunderstand.

“S . . .”

I can’t manage one word.

“Don’t you dare, Leech King.”

Niko’s fury crescendos, and I groan, trying to grasp Viola’s hands to assure her. If anything, her words twist the knife deeper.

“Let go of her.”

“She isn’t yours to claim,” Viola bites out, her wrath pushing against his. “I’m taking her home.”

“No . . .” I whisper, but I don’t think either heard me.

“Cadence can go wherever she wants,” he says, and I hear him step closer. “Including with me.”

“Your thirst glows in your eyes. Even now, you seek only to take from her. Look at how you’ve destroyed her!”

Those last words echo.

“St . . .” I shudder, not sure who I’m reaching out to anymore. “Stop.”

Viola looks down at me. I manage to peer back, shaking my head slowly.

“Enough. He . . . isn’t . . . hurting me,” I whisper, and her eyes narrow.

“How can you say that? Look at yourself.”

I smile sadly. She recoils, like she can’t accept my next words.

“It’s my blood.”

The curl of her lip shatters my heart. Even if she doesn’t say it, I see it in her darkening gaze.

You are the prey.

She doesn’t know it’s not that simple. Not once has Niko made me feel like that. I never asked to be the blade to his throat, either.

“I . . .”

After staggering upwards, her icy hands retreat, leaving my arms burning under my sleeves. I sit up alone, laboring on my words as she stands above me.

“I don’t want this.” My body wracks again, and I cough. “But you don’t have to save me.”

Her lips press together. I know she won’t say a word, because there’s no tidy response.

“All I need . . .” I whisper. “All I want is for us to be okay. You don’t have to have the answers. You don’t have to solve everything.”

I reach my hand out to her. My fingers shake, but I hold it as long as I can manage.

“Can we try?”

She stares at my hand. Her eyes fall before they meet mine.

“But everything I’ve . . .”

My fingers curl inward as she turns from me. Striding past Niko, she walks away without another word or glance. The only evidence she was ever here is the front door slamming with a resolute thud, her force felt in the floorboards.

Just as my hand falters, Niko catches it. The pulse of pain eases with his fingers interlacing with mine, and I let him pull me close.

I can’t even cry. I can hardly breathe.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs, and I collapse against him. “Breathe. Come on, Cadence, breathe for me.”

He’s never needed oxygen, but he guides me anyway. His gentle murmurings and hands are my entire world as he lulls me into a steady rhythm.

When the moment comes back into focus, he’s cradling me into his neck. We’re still on the floor, his back against the couch as I rest in his lap. His cologne is a lifeline, as well as the vibration of the words in his throat.

“I will find a way.”

I’m not sure if that statement was fully meant for me.

His hands press firmer against my back, holding me like nothing is more important. When his lips rest against my hair, my eyes weakly open. I’m regaining strength. With that, my senses.

“Niko,” I say, goosebumps prickling over my skin when I feel his restraint unraveling.

“I won’t hurt you,” he whispers against my temple, and I’m not sure who is saving who anymore. “I’m going to break this bond. Even . . .Even if . . .”

I tense in his hold and raise my head enough to meet his eyes. Fear clouds his red irises, and the crimson flashes brighter, flickering as he tries desperately to contain it. He’s no longer afraid of me.

“No, no,” I say, raising my hand to weakly cup his jaw.

“That woman was right.”

He leans into my touch, like it’s everything he’s ever wanted. Needed. I shake my head harder.

“No.” My other hand comes up, like he’s quicksand through my fingers. “No, she doesn’t understand.”

“I have destroyed you, haven’t I?”

Only six words truly do. My bottom lip wobbles as I answer.

“No.”

“I . . . ” His left knuckle brushes my hair back, lingering on my cheek as I let my hands slide to his chest. “I have waited many lifetimes to hold starlight, and I would wait countless more if it meant I could hold you again.”

My heart constricts.

“What are you saying?” I whisper.

His irises flicker, but his eyes still crinkle gently when he smiles. Another wave of agony crashes over me, and I hiss through my teeth. Hunger. Ravenous and terrifying, it tears through my body.

“I won’t put you through this,” he says as I tremble. “Your blood is the catalyst, but it is still my fate to bear.”

“But . . .”

In the quiet of these shadows, I search his glowing gaze. He’s captive to this hunger, yet he softens under my touch. His fingers rest pliant on my waist, and even if every inch of his being is fracturing, he finds a reason to smile.

Me.

“The stars were right to weave you into my fate.” He cups my face, his thumb brushing away tears I didn’t realize were falling. “Take my life, Cadence. It always has been and always will be yours.”

I’m breathless, only able to press into his hand. Resistance is killing us, yet his devotion only deepens.

“I . . .”

My voice cracks. I couldn’t do that.

To leave it like this, though, is unbearable.

His irises flash brighter, and another wave of desert-dry heat pulses between us. Feeling every spike of pain and how crushing it is, I don’t know how he’s still upright, let alone staring at me with such tenderness.

Pain runs red, but so does his devotion. So does his love. Even if he doesn’t bleed, he does now for me.

Blood. Which is all he needs, right?

I lean back enough to look him over. He holds me close, but doesn’t restrict me, his brows furrowing curiously as I stare.

I’ve become the poison coursing through him.

I can be the antidote, too.

“Take your life?”

It’s not anger, and it’s not even warmth in my whisper. With clarity, I bunch his shirt in my hands and pull him closer.

“Let me give you yours.”

Love can’t survive as penance. We have to try, and if he surrenders to me, then I will choose him back.

Not waiting for his response, I release his shirt and curl my hand around the back of his neck. When I pull him down to me, his hands grip my waist, tense as I force his lips to my pulse.

“Drink,” I say, and his words tremble against my throat.

“Cadence. . .I . . .”

“Don’t say no,” I beg, free hand cradling his hair.

He hesitates, and I shiver when he leans in. As quickly as he considers it, he pulls back, swearing under his breath.

“This isn’t right,” he says, and I let him sit upright to face me again.

“You’re starving,” I retort softly. “It hurts, and this will help, right?”

His throat bobs harshly, looking every part wrecked and wanting.

“You would give your life-force to me?”

I could almost laugh.

“When you just said you’d give your entirety to me?”

Maybe I’m moving too fast. I’ve never thought about how groupies and bloodbags feel, but this isn’t cheap or thrilling. I don’t fear the swipe of his tongue over his lips, sharp ivories glinting momentarily.

This is more than the symptoms of a cursed bond wearing us down. Our affection is genuine, and I can remember each part. Every quiet laugh, every charged glance, every time he comforted me, and I returned it.

I’m immune to his control. By blood, I am his equal. To be his life-force, his star⁠—

I choose him.

“Here.”

I offer my hand. No prophecy can stop me.

“What about my finger?” I ask, and his flickering eyes widen.

His hand gently grasps my wrist, my pulse fluttering against his fingertips. A visible shudder rolls through his body. It has me sucking in a quick breath.

“Just a small prick,” he murmurs after one more heartbeat of hesitation. “I promise not to hurt you any further.”

“To be fair, I’m sure resisting the bond hurts more.”

He only half-smiles in response, but I’m happy to see even that. I know he’s terrified. He’s shaking as he guides my hand upwards, and he stops again to meet my eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I say, meaning every bit of that one, small word.

I don’t push him. It’s him who has to move carefully, gentle with my mortality as he teeters on the edge of losing control.

“I trust you,” I breathe. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

That settles him enough to kiss the top of my hand. I smile, warmth pooling into the cracks that pain left between us.

His lips next press to my knuckles, and he lingers, inhaling the scent that glows crimson in his eyes. Hunger eases into steadiness as he reaches the tip of my index finger.

My heart skips a beat. The way his mouth feels against my skin is sacred, and it’s not fear, but fire igniting in my abdomen as his right fang grazes me.

A sharp, brief pinch gives way to relief. With one hand on my waist, his other holds my wrist still as blood beads on my finger.

I shiver. He draws closer, eyes on mine as he takes his first taste.

My mouth falls open, bliss coloring the corners of my existence as he feeds. His satiation is my own, and so is his euphoria. It’s overwhelming. Perfect. A cross between a giggle and a moan bubbles up my throat.

“Whoa,” I gasp, and he hums, dark lashes sweeping closed.

It feels so good, the last echoes of shared anguish dissolving. I’m boneless. The weight of our bond eases completely, and he hasn’t fed that long. It’s not long enough when he slowly pulls off my finger, licking the small wound closed.

His irises remain steady, a stain of red on his bottom lip as he kisses my hand again.

Warmth blossoms on my face. I’m not shy, but maybe I should be as he places another kiss on my inner wrist.

He’s whole again. A single drop destroyed everything, and only a few more have restored Sancte Noctis’ king. While the implications unsettle me, I can’t linger in that worry.

Not with him looking at me like that.

“Mmm.”

He hums contentedly, and I realize I’ve never seen him relaxed. In control. Liquid desire burns between my hips as he kisses up my wrist, witnessing an entirely new him. Fear and weariness have been chased out, but I can only tell by how Niko moves without restraint. While his soul remains tucked behind my ribs, I’m not in step with his senses and thoughts anymore.

“What’re you thinking?” I ask, followed by a breathless giggle.

“About how I’ve never felt so good.” Another kiss before he pulls me on top of him. “About how I wish to return the favor.”

I squeal, feet kicking lightly as I lie on top of him. We’re still on the floor, and moonlight peeks through the blinds. There’s no place I’d rather be.

“Niklaus,” I tease, and I swear, I can see my smile in his blown pupils.

“Yes, my sweet girl?”

His hands wander, fingers dancing along my waist and hips like an instrument. Only a few articles of cotton remain between him and my skin. I’ve never made music before, but with him, I’m willing to try.

“Do you really feel that good?”

He laughs, honey voice deepened by desire. I’m dizzyingly aware of his hands and the way my chest rises and falls against his.

“How could I not? I’ve held starlight and tasted ambrosia.”

One of his hands comes up to push my hair out of my face. I can’t smile any harder.

“I thought I was a juice box?”

My little jab earns a laugh and a firmer grip on my hips.

“Yeah?”

Oh. A cock of his brow and that teasing, fanged grin, and I’m putty in his hands.

“Can I get another taste, then?” he asks, his lilting tone promising more.

My hips grind slowly in his palms. Is he implying what I think he is? Suddenly, the glint of his fangs makes my pussy flutter. If possible, my face reddens a shade deeper.

“Is that a yes?” He tilts his head a little too adorably. “Use your words, cherry cheeks.”

“Yes,” I say, gasping when he hoists me up in response.

When he sets me on my feet, his lips quickly find mine. Our kiss is eager, and everything we’ve never been allowed before. With no fear, and the taste of blood between our lips, he moves possessively and unflinchingly.

“N . . .Niko,” I whine into his mouth.

I don’t want to wait anymore. As his lips brush down my jaw and over my neck, my fingers hook into the top of my pants.

“Eager,” he murmurs against my throat, and I moan shamelessly.

Once I kick my pants off, my hands press against his chest. He’s completely clothed as I push him onto the couch, too impatient to get out of my panties.

“Need you.”

He settles back at the perfect angle. His hands reach for my hips, guiding me as I swing my leg over him.

“I’ve got you, Cadence. You can use me for anything you need.”

My clit throbs for attention, his words fueling the fire. I shudder when I settle against his mouth. His arms hook around the backs of my thighs, and I hold myself steady on the arm of the couch behind him.

He kisses my clit, and I jerk lightly. Holding me close, he doesn’t let my sensitive body miss a moment when his tongue presses through the damp fabric.

“Oh god,” I whimper, relief rushing into pleasure.

“Divine,” he groans against me.

It’s not long before my panties are pulled to the side, and it’s a tie between who’s greedier. I’ve never wanted this wildly, this boldly. His tongue is addictive and pulls heated moans and gasps from me.

My shirt ends up on the floor. His necklace shines red against my cleavage, the same color staining his mouth. One of my bra straps slides down, but I’m too focused on his tongue worshipping me.

“F-Fuck, Niko . . .”

I bask in his attention. I’ve never been a performer, always preferring being in the audience. Now, I’m his private act, loving how his eyes never once stray from me and his hands grip my ass eagerly.

Grinding frantically, I tangle one hand in his dark hair, head thrown back as the pleasure builds.

I start shaking, and I whimper when my rhythm falters. Before my orgasm has time to run away, he takes control, flipping me onto my back.

“That’s it, sweet girl.”

My hands scramble to grab at the couch and his hair. The force of ecstasy is overwhelming; my back arched and hips grinding as he takes me over the edge.

Euphoria washes over me as his tongue and fingers worship my clit. He more than returned the favor—it’s double our shared bliss as my body wracks.

The second I weakly close my thighs, he relaxes, letting me breathe as he pulls away.

“Oh . . .fuck . . .” I whisper, body humming long after the intensity wears off.

When I can tell up from down again, I watch him lick his fingers. I make a face at him, and he chuckles.

“Every inch of you is ambrosia,” he says, humming contentedly.

“Come back here and kiss me.”

His eyes light up, and he eagerly slots between my legs to press his lips to mine. We don’t go any further. Even the desperation of our kiss has simmered down into something sweeter.

We lay still for a while in the quiet afterglow. I don’t want to think about what comes next.

“We should shower,” I finally say, and he gently helps me up.

I’m not in his head, but the bond is still there. Stronger. I know he feels it too: red strings that hold us close, but don’t cut into our skin anymore.

When we get to the small bathroom, I giggle at how on top of each other we have to be. I’m so distracted that I pause when I see him staring at my chest. No . . .At my heart.

I follow his eyes, glancing down.

Only to realize that the tattoo has completely healed, the butterfly soaring on my skin.