Bloodbound: The Alliance
Chapter 41 - 45

Chapter 41: Chapter 45

Avara POV

"Can we talk?"

"What about?"

"If you stop moving, I’ll tell you."

I stop halfway up the staircase, twisting around slowly.

"I think we should clear the air about—"

I spin back around, trotting up the steps. "You have nothing to explain or clear up."

"You want to tell me why you’ve been ignoring Kels? And giving Landen the cold shoulder—"

"Kels?" I snap, words gushing out. "Since when is she ’Kels’ to you?"

I throw a glance behind my shoulder. A frown strikes his face.

"What, it’s a nickname, Avara?"

I face him momentarily and my lips stretch stiffly, filling with poison. "It’s like I said. You have nothing to explain. And neither do I. I’m just not in a chatty mood."

I go for the door. He grabs my wrist to swivel me around, forcing me to face him.

"Please don’t do that again."

"Something is wrong," he says, dismissing my wishes like dust. "Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to needle it out of you? You can fake all you want, but with someone like you, it’s very evident when you’re upset."

I look around hopelessly, irritation only mounting. "You know what’s upsetting me? This conversation, because I’m fine, really, just tired. I promise, I don’t want you to worry."

He finally gives in.

"I was thinking. Since we leave on Sunday, so maybe we should do something Saturday night? A romantic date, a boat ride, candlelit dinner and maybe some kissing under the moonlight. You know, tacky things couples in love do. For professional purposes, of course, to really sell the image before our engagement."

And yet Botan is all I can think about.

I look away, fearing that even my eyes will betray that truth.

"A scheduled makeout session? How methodical, very you."

He gives me a quick once over, then starts receding back to the corridor. "At least now I finally have something to look forward to."

I shake my head, opening the door. I halt.

"That’s never fucking happening."

I dart inside, closing the door and locking it. Botan sits at the foot of the bed, legs spread towards the fire. It’s like fate itself had listened to the quiet whispers of my heart, sculpting him from the very depths of suppressed longing. Every facet of him—the way his gaze embraces mine, steady and full of the unspoken, as though my soul had summoned him.

I fall back and the door captures me, echoing a hard thud when it slams shut.

"What are you doing here?"

"I had some time to kill before I had to leave."

"Then you should be out sightseeing?" I say jeeringly.

"That’s why I’m here..." his eyes trail over me, meaningfully and gradually, "enjoying the view."

I look away to hide my smile, failing to thwart it.

"Look at me."

I comply. I stare him down and the tension coils around our bodies, electrifying the very air.

"He is right,"Botan begins objectively. " When you’re upset, it’s obvious. You are so bright... like your own sun that makes everything around you shine." He looks at me, his gaze gripping my soul. "When you’re upset, your light dims... making the world that much darker."

I look to the ground, smiling bashfully, unable to endure any more eye contact. I go over to my dominant side of the bed and he observes my every movement, not missing a second. I remove the pillow to take out my pyjamas and I look back at him. He gives me a questioning look. I twirl my finger, signalling for him to turn around. His lips peel back into a wolfish smirk. He respects my request and looks away. I keep staring at his back, making sure it remains turned. And it does.

I struggle out of the bodycon dress to slip into an oversize shirt that hangs off my one shoulder. My skin prickles, the cold seeping into my skin. I walk over to the fire, rubbing my hands as I place myself on the Persian rug in front of the fire, reaching for the frolicking tendrils. His eyes are like heavy weights deposited on me, his presence inexorable and intoxicating, capable of making me do things I normally wouldn’t. A force that inspires courage and also lends strength.

"So...do you want to tell the first time you saw me?"

He replies with a firm and resounding. "No."

I pitch a glare over my shoulder.

"But I will tell you one of my favourite memories of you."

He moves to stand behind me and settles down on the floor. He extends his one leg out in front of me—lengthened beside me and he bends the other, resting his wrist on top of his knee. My body draws back on whim, and I lay against him, resting the back of my head against his shoulder.

"A health outreach program hosted by an NPO." The deep baritone of his voice reverberates through me. "Your father took you along to the hospital with the intention of making it a good photo op to feed the press. Other elite donors were there to do the same, only engaging with them when the cameras were pointed at them, standing ten feet away from those patients like their diseases were contagious, treating them less than human."

I remember distinctly. The contributors didn’t even shake the patients’ hands and all of them kept their distance, whether they were communicating with adults or children. It was heart-breaking, and clear the only reason they came was to use those people as photo props. An event that happened years ago.

"Not only did you shake their hands, but you hugged them. Something not even your father did. Not only did you do that, but you stayed long after the event was done. You read books to the kids and talked to the elderly. That’s the day I truly saw you... the beauty of your heart."

I lift my face, gazing up at his granite jaw. "Botan."

He doesn’t meet my gaze, his focus is locked on the flickering flames dancing in the hearth. The firelight bathes his face in a warm, golden glow, and for a moment, his eyes seem to shimmer, turning a deep, molten amber. Shadows play across his features, sharpening the hard lines.

My head levels. "You know so much about me... but I know nothing about you."

"You know that I’m here. And that’s enough."

I drag myself up, swivelling to face him on my knees. "Not for me. I want to know everything about my guardian angel... and my angel of death. I want to know the good, the bad and the worst."

"That’s the thing," he says, a look hollows out his gaze, leaving them empty. "There is no good." His eyes creep to me, locking and those vacant vessels fill with an emotion so potent it bears no name. "There is only you." He reaches out to grasp my chin gently, stroking his thumb across my jaw. "You are my only good."

"Then what are you to me?"

"Whatever you need me to be."

I shake my head. "Then just be you. I want to know every part of you."

"You might not like what you see."

"Let me discover that for myself."

I lean forward to plant my hands on the carpet as I crawl over to him. His eyes spark, welling with a sultry surprise. My hands drop on either side of his hips, basking in the sound of his heavy and unstable breathing, so strange to see a formidable, fearsome and powerful man tremble at my close proximity. I graze my nose down the bridge of his, eliciting a guttural, deep-throated sound that rumbles in his chest. He seizes my hips—stealing a gasp from me and our lips collide—the room catches alight.

Every bone in my body aching for more—more of him, losing myself, allowing myself to exist solely in this moment. He tears his shirt asunder, letting the buttons fly off as he rips it off him. He undoes his belt, seizing my lips for another kiss before shedding off his pants. Eager, I surge forward, pushing him flat on his back as I settle on his groin, savoring the sight of the sculpted planes and contours of his body. I slant closer, pressing my breasts against him as my lips brush against his ear.

"Now you’re mine," I whisper.

He slips his hands into my shirt and his hands run up the curve of my back, coaxing shivers before he removes the shirt over my head and tosses it aside. In one fell swoop, he spins us around as I hold tight on his shoulders, pinning me on my back, the full musculature of his body upon me. He takes both of my wrists and presses them to the floor with just one hand. The flames are muted by the fire roaring in his eyes. He splits my legs and settles between them before he leaves hot impressions along my neck, each kiss scorching. Lost in throes of passion as he plants kisses down my chest, stomach until his lips reach the skin above the waistband of my underwear.

He pauses, his eyes lifting, seeking permission.

Breathless, I nod quickly. With one fast movement, he pulls the fabric away, leaving me explicitly exposed. His head dips below my hips and the next thing I know... I’m seeing stars, being savagely devoured by him. I try to hold back a sound, but a slow-series of moans escape me, struggling to restrain my volume. I can’t help but buck up against his mouth. He chuckles, the vibration sending a thrill through me. He holds my hips in place dominantly and I arch against the floor, my fingers clutching the carpet, every part of me throbbing, wet and still wanting. I straighten to look down at him. He holds eye contact as his lips ghost over my most sensitive spots, kissing my bare skin.

"Just leave her alone." Luciano.

"Something happened. One of them did something to her, and she’s going to tell me what." Silas.

Botan rises like a storm, his tongue swiping over his wet lips. "You’ve got to fucking kidding me."

I back away, scrambling up. I snatch up my underwear, slipping it back on and my shirt. He gathers his clothes and skulks forward to stand against the wall. Shortly there’s an urgent rap on the door. I tiptoe to it before I open, Botan just behind it on the other side.

"Avie?"

I fake a yawn, stretching, pretending that I was sleeping. "Ya? Did something happen? What’s going on?"

"You asshole." Luciano thumps his shoulder in reproach. "You woke her up."

"Since when does she sleep at nine?" Silas retorts.

"Can this interrogation wait until morning? I’m really tired. I’ll answer whatever you want to know then, okay?"

"Yeah sure." He clasps Silas’s shoulder and shoves him onwards.

I smile as he passes on and I close the door carefully. Botan drops his clothes and grabs me from behind, lifting me off the ground and swivelling me around, freeing an excited squeal from me as he marches us over to the bed. I extend my legs and I sweep up to stand on the foot of the bed, turning around to face him. I pounce on him and he captures me with ease as my legs wrap around his waist, my arms lacing around his neck.

"Knowing my brothers, they’ll probably be back in the next hour."

He chuckles deeply. "Luckily, there’s a lot we can do in an hour."

He drops me on the bed and I shuffle back until my back hits the headboard. With almost a feral glint in his eyes, he claws towards me with a hunger and intensity that’s almost frightening. And when he’s close enough I lift my leg to stomp my foot on his shoulder to stop him. Instead, his veiny hand takes my ankle to yank me towards him—sliding down so I end up flat on my back on the mattress. With my ankle still in his grip, he sets the heel of my foot on his shoulder before he seizes my other foot to perch it on his other shoulder like he’s ready to ram me through.

Barely breathing, between half-gasps, I say, "I—I don’t want to go too fast."

An irrational fear pricks at me–scared that he’d be disappointed. Botan releases my ankles, allowing my legs to fall back down so he remains between them. He inches closer with muscles rippling through his arms and shoulders like a raring wolf, and then he lays himself down, delicately placing his chin on my midsection, gazing up at me. His stare, usually formidable, dissolves into something else entirely—a quiet tenderness, like the wide-eyed innocence of a pup, unguarded and pure.

I lift a tentative hand to let my fingers winnow through his soft strands and his eyes flutter close, somehow relishing in an act so simple.

"You’re not upset?"

His eyes snap open to glare up at me as if what I asked is so outrageous. "I don’t need to touch you to sense your essence, since your mere presence envelops my soul in a warmth so profound."

Heat stings my face and I turn to brush my chin against my shoulder nervously. "Really? You don’t mind waiting until... I’m ready?" I ask so awkwardly that my insides even tangle into a knot.

"I’ve already been waiting," he says nonchalantly. "Ten days or ten years, it is meaningless."

"The patient wolf," I quote thoughtfully. "How did that saying go.... There’s no such thing as a gentleman, only a patient wolf?"

"Well, there is only one thing I know," he says as he lifts from my stomach, rising so we’re aligned until he’s looming—he captures my lips in a brief and blazing kiss before he breaks away. "When the wolf is hungry. He eats."