Chapter 17: Valen - Bound to Ruin

BAUER ESTATE, PRESERVATION DOMAIN, ASTRUM FOREST

Astoria doesn’t have the capacity to love after all the damage done to her.

My hand spasms, and I soundlessly snarl at the quaver in my chalked line. I wipe away the ruined sigil from my workroom’s slate floor. Alasdair’s words echoing through my head are no longer sounding like his voice, but a whisper of my own mind. The only way I know that it’s not truly my own thoughts is the very real fact that Astoria does love. She just doesn’t love me like she loves Lucas.

The pain breaks through the calming draft I took earlier and nearly robs me of my senses, my breathing speeding with my heart. A storm of emotions clashes within me. Bitterness. Anger. Betrayal. And shame. Astoria made her choice perfectly clear when I asked her to return with me. This pain is my own fault. I’m a damn fool for not fully accepting this simple fact.

Air eludes me, and I work harder and harder to suck in a full breath, but when I do, Lucas’ lingering scent on my skin fills my lungs. My throat aches, and I cannot pretend I’m not affected by our moment together.

Oh, Valentin. Has the ice in your heart thawed for another?

A tremble quakes my jaw and I grit my teeth. Get out of my head.

I’ve made a horrible mistake. I should never have given in to temptation with the magician. This pain in my chest throbs, refusing to go away. It keeps making my hands tremble when I need them steady to draw the teleportation circle to get us into Astoria’s loft. My attention drifts from the sigils to the man invading my private workroom before I snatch it back.

Within this space I call my own, the walls are covered with shelving, cabinets, and brewing tools. The bookshelves are packed with stained diaries, tomes, and encyclopedias detailing the healing arts. After all, a good potion master’s craft manuscripts are never immaculate.

I pushed back all the worktables and caldrons to access the smooth slate flooring. Using the family’s circle in the jacaranda grove doesn’t suit my purpose today. I have too many modifications and specializations to find it useful.

I shake out my unsteady hand and redraw the rune before Lucas notices anything amiss. Luckily, he’s too distracted playing with the weaponry he pilfered from the Bauer armory. A large black blade is strapped to his back along his spine that is as flexible as he is when sheathed so that it does not hinder movement. Fingerless gloves keep his rings exposed while small rune-etched crystals plate the knuckles that preserve the hands during impact. The right pressure will trigger a detonation, and he practically demolished the training room practicing.

With a slow breath, I attempt to regain my composure. I can’t let him see me like this. I can’t let this building bitterness shift towards him. This human thief, who stole my beloved’s heart and soul.

I squeeze my eyes shut. A shiver courses through me, leaving me far too pale and clammy. Damn, Alasdair. I won’t permit him to poison me against the man who has done nothing but try to comfort me. This is not Lucas’ fault.

I suck in breath, and my eyes snap open. Losing control over myself will serve no one and will leave me feeling even more like a damn fool than I already am.

Now that I’ve completed the base of the circle, I pull my mother’s hovering diary closer. I scan the passage once more before summoning a marble mortar and pestle. My pallet of fragmented limestone shakes and a sliver frees itself to glide through the air. It plops into the mortar as I ease to standing from my kneeling position. I take the mortar and pestle from where they hover and begin to break the stone down into a powder.

Lucas is pacing around the perimeter of my circle, tempting my focus away from my task. I grind my teeth, and my magic chills the room unbidden. He’s going to notice something wrong with me at this rate. I need to focus. Being torn apart by traveling via an improper circle would be the icing on this shit cake I’ve gotten myself into.

The soft hiss of the black blade slicing through the air has my gaze flicking to him again. He’s mastered withdrawing the sword without rasping the blade along the sheath and is now spinning the long handle over his wrists to occupy himself. His honey eyes meet mine, and my heart skips.

What an inconvenient reaction.

I quickly drop my gaze with a frown, gripping the pestle and grinding harder to keep myself from saying anything idiotic, like how delicious he looks with a sword.

I’m permitting his use of my family’s weaponry to keep that idiot from using his magic too often. This is about his healing. Anything else is irrelevant.

We’re a temporary team. That’s all. Once Astoria is freed, I’ll likely never see them again.

My chest convulses with the pain of loneliness. My eyes close, and I breathe through my nose.

Stop that now, I scold myself. It doesn’t matter.

Fingers snap in front of my face and my eyes open, my body jerking back. I glare at the magician, who matches my expression.

“What?” I say too sharply.

He rolls his eyes, and the urge to wipe the expression off his face is overwhelming. I shift back a step when unhelpful fantasies about how to accomplish that bloom in my mind’s eye. Suddenly, all I can see is the magician panting up at me from his knees, his aroused body waiting eagerly for whatever I wish to gift him.

Lucas stares at me, and I arch a brow at him in response. He repeats what I missed slowly, “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I say it too fast and my teeth grit. “Don’t lose your rag, magician.”

This has his lips twitching, his eyes sparking with amusement before seriousness hardens his features. He crosses his arms stubbornly. Fuck, I want to pleasure the brat out of him, just make him beg.

Breath hisses between my teeth. I need my attraction to him to stop. This will only end in my heartbreak.

“Then what did I just say?” he asks.

He’s got me there, but there’s no way in the dark Weave that I’m permitting him deeper access to my inner workings. I muster all the arrogance I can in my retort. “Spare me, magician. We have a job to do.”

He heaves a sigh. “Look, I’m all for doing this right now, but you’re distracted. There is a small army of grimoires waiting for us at the bookshop. I almost became food to many of them last time. If your head isn’t in it…”

“My head is fine.”

He smirks knowingly, and I turn sharply away. Somehow that only makes it worse. He throws his hands toward me. “See? You’re not acting right. Old V wouldn’t be able to resist making a snide little comment.”

“Sorry to disappoint your very tiny knowledge of me. Apparently going to identify my father’s mutilated remains has altered my personality.”

I hover the mortar and pestle before me so I can withdraw a silver blade to nick my thumb. The magician says, “We need to talk,” and I slice too deep with a hiss.

I hold up my hand to keep the blood from pouring too freely and use the tip of my blade to gather a few droplets. I suck at the wound, both to easily get rid of the excess blood and to heal it, my thumb tingling from my magic. Adding my blood to the powdered limestone ensures only I can activate it.

I slide to kneeling, taking the mortar with me and setting the pestle beside my knee. My hand hovers over the bowl, magic pricking my fingertips as it gathers to enhance the chalk. I pause. I should include Lucas as well in case we get separated. I hold out my hand towards the magician. “Thumb. Now.”

His hand slides onto mine and my traitorous heart quickens. I carefully prick the very tip of his thumb, collecting the blood drops into the bowl.

The magician asks, “What are you doing?”

“Blood enhances spells, especially protection ones.” His blood mingles with mine, and my magic gathers the soaked powder to press it into a pink chalk stick. “When I add the last few symbols with this, we will be the only ones who can return to this circle.”

I’m so caught up in mixing one-handed that I mindlessly put his thumb in my mouth to heal it. The copper of his blood is sharp, and I can’t help but flick my tongue over the pad as I seal the tiny cut. Did I need to use my mouth to do the spell? No. I am too knowledgeable to have that be the only way I can heal minor cuts. Is it easier? Yes. Does it make me miss his cock in my throat? Most desperately.

I am so fucked.

I go to pull back, but his hand tightens, gripping my jaw and pressing down on my tongue. My eyes flare as he yanks my face towards him. I’m on one knee, staring up at Lucas as he gazes down at me with his honey eyes. Panic surges with the building heat within me, my muscles clenching as I harden.

Lucas’ even tone sends shivers down my spine. “You may think I don’t know you, but I do, because you’re so much like Tori. You’re trying to push me away just like she would, and I’m not going to allow it.”

My pulse throbs, my body frozen in place, as Lucas speaks low and firmly. “Thank you for saving me from Alasdair and his vile plans last night.”

My breath shivers, and his lips tilt in a small smile. “And thank you for staying after. I’d buried what happened with Dimitar for so long that I didn’t realize how much I needed someone else to understand.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes me ache when he says softly, “You have no idea how much you’ve healed me, and I’m not just talking about physical wounds. This morning. You were…” His breath catches, and his throat works. “Incredible.”

I can’t hear this. It’s tearing down the walls I just worked so hard to rebuild.

My lip curls back from my teeth, but his firm tone stops me. “No. You’re going to listen to me. I know you’re mad, and I think I’ve pieced together why.” He sighs, and fear grips my heart when his gaze shifts. “I’m not going to defend Torment to you. We both know how she is, and we both know she probably lied about her plans to tell you about your dad.”

My anger roars, and I try to snap, “Of course she did!” But it’s gargled by his refusal to let go of my jaw.

“She did, but I know she regrets wasting time in the park first and not heading straight for you.” He shakes his head roughly. “But that’s for the two of you to figure out on your own. It’s hard, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that I cannot mend your relationship with her. The two of you need to do that on your own. I can’t be the middleman.”

I try to drop my gaze, but he jerks my jaw until I look back up. Arousal and pain mix confusingly within me, but I am powerless to break away. My skin tingles, saliva filling my mouth. He doesn’t hurt me. He won’t. But everything about him in this moment has me completely under his control.

“I want you, Valen.”

I suck in breath. My eyes are too wide, but I can’t seem to regain control of my expression. Lucas slowly sinks down to one knee, careful of the chalk that divides us. He leans forward, his hand still holding my jaw. His lips brush my cheek, and I shiver all over.

He whispers, “It’s why I’m so mad over your letter. I want you so fucking much that it kills me. I can’t stop trying to figure out how to convince you to choose us at the end of this. It’s driving me insane. But I understand you now.”

My breath huffs from me, unable to move as his words sink deep into me.

I can’t hear this. I shake my head, trying to get free, but his lips trail the corner of mine. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this. The things I would do to you, V. It would make this morning look like clothes-on missionary in the dark.”

Desire quakes me and I clutch his wrist desperately. I try to say something, but it’s garbled. His moan has my lashes fluttering and arousal pulsing until I’m straining against my slacks. I want him to bend me, snarling, to his will.

Lucas licks into my mouth, and I can’t help it. I open wider with a shiver. He purrs, “Thank you for your undivided attention. I didn’t want my last regret before dying by grimoire to be that you didn’t know how stupidly desperate I am for you.” He laughs, low and sensual.

Oh fuck, now I can’t get that night with the three of us out of my mind. It was a taste when I want a feast. I want weeks and weeks of exploring our bodies, the three of us so tangled that we don’t know who is who anymore.

I gently pry his thumb from my mouth, but he doesn’t move his hand far. His rough, callused hands scrape my freshly shaven jaw. We’re so close, our chests brush together, so I feel the drumming of his racing heart. He breathes me in, and a shiver weakens my resolve until I lean against him. Our lips catch, a pleasurable static cracking when he closes around my lower one, his hold on my chin keeping me there. It’s like a living current lights between us, and we both gasp, tongues touching and kiss deepening.

This is dangerous. So fucking, irresistibly dangerous.

I mean to pull away, to tell him why we can’t be together, but I kiss him instead. My fist twists in his hair and we devour each other. The anger and passion pouring into this kiss are so raw that my moan is more of a sound of anguish than pleasure.

He lets go of my face to wrap his arms firmly around my middle, bringing our heated bodies tightly together. He’s just as hard as I am, and our hips shift, desperate to relieve some of the pressure.

I’ve gotten the pleasure of taking his strong body, and now I ache to feel what it would be like in the reverse. He’d promised such delicious things at the end of that night with the three of us. I want to be on my stomach, my leg drawn up so he can hold me tight, thrust into me so deep, so I can’t feel anything but his warm body on mine. I want it slow and achingly tender. I want him to kiss me softly while he makes love to me, and I want to feel Astoria beneath me.

My heart throbs and eyes sting. I can’t do this, or else I won’t survive it when they leave me.

I rip my mouth from Lucas’. I pant and attempt to make my tone firm, but only manage to sound desperate. “It doesn’t matter. Don’t you understand? None of it matters.”

His eyes search me, and his crooked smile has my heart skipping. “You want me.”

“For the love of the dark Weave, yes! But it doesn’t matter.”

He hums, and his nose brushes mine. “I adore you as well.”

My heart nearly explodes, and my anger rises at my own traitorous reaction. I scoff and stand, releasing his hair as I do. “You need to work on your reading comprehension if that is the only part of the letter you remember.”

It’s a mistake. My erection is in his face, and he stares at it before those honey eyes flick up to meet mine with a grin. “You’d be surprised how patient I can be. I’ll wait for you, Valen. However long you need to realize the right choice is to run with us.”

He needs to stop before I go mad. I snarl, “Your hearing also needs improvement.”

I go to step away, but he grabs my belt buckle and yanks me back before him. I gasp, pleasure thrumming through me. My hands snarl in his hair, holding his head in a firm grip, but he doesn’t move. I look back down at him. He smiles, his eyes dancing. “I think I’ve made my point.”

My face heats, and he slides smoothly to standing. I hate that he’s taller than me, even if it’s only by a few inches. It forces me to look up, which lessens the formidability of my glare. He cuffs my chin, and I snap at his hand when he adds, “Now let’s go break into Torment’s stronghold. Then she can rage at us both for nearly giving in to temptation again without her.”

“Why do you call her that?” It’s a useless question that doesn’t matter, but I can’t seem to keep it inside me.

His stupid smile must be enchanted for how it makes my heart react. “Because wanting her was like being addicted to agony. Now it’s because being without her is torture.” His gaze sweeps me. “I get why you’re upset with her. I thought about it a lot while you were working. I would never want to feel how you did for the last seven years. But you’ve forgotten something very important.”

My brows furrow, and his smile turns sad. “The day you left, she wanted you to stay with us, and you said no.”

My lips part, but my words catch as I remember that fragile look in her eye when she offered me a job so I could stay in the city. My lips close, and I swallow.

Lucas continues softly, “You should know that after she knew the body was Vincentius, she broke down crying because she wasn’t ready to face you again. Your return to the Order hurt her deeply, and she needed time and rest before facing you. We might be hurting each other, but it doesn’t have to be that way.”

His fingers delicately stroke my jaw, my breath catching. “Whenever you’re ready, V. We’ll be waiting for you.”

Damn him and his ability to just forgive and understand me. His lips brush mine, and the kiss is soft, gentle, my heart pulsing as my hands grip his hips. Then he does the unthinkable. He steps forward, his arms sliding along me until our kiss ends and he enfolds me into his warm embrace. My breath catches in my lungs, my eyes squeezing shut. Fuck, why does this feel so good every time? My hands hover on his hips, and I fight to keep them there, but it’s no use. I return his embrace and somehow keep the dam of emotions intact under the building pressure.

A heat crawls up my neck, and I look away sharply, stepping away and collecting the enhanced chalk. “Focus, magician. We have a bookshop to battle through.”

“Yeah, about that. Are you sure I can’t convince you to bring any more weapons?”

I sneer and pull out Lucas’ notebook that holds the rune to Tori’s circle within her loft. “I have everything I need from the Tapestry.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes. “Weavers, I swear.”

I draw the last few runes. The circle complete, I stand and hold out my hands to Lucas. He takes them and uses them to step into my space again. It takes me a moment to focus myself, to bring my magic forth and whisper the ancient word into existence. “Travel.”