Between the Moon and Her Night (Between Life and Death #3)

Chapter 11

Von

W hen I stepped out from my swirling umbra, a moonlit, woodland canopy swelled over top of me, forged from the towering reach of ancient oaks. Their gently rustling leaves were a rich tapestry of colors—yellows, golden browns, and vibrant reds. They were a few weeks shy of letting go of their respective branches and falling to the forest floor where they would rot and decay and be returned to the soil they were made from. Just as all living things must do eventually. It was the natural order of things. No one escaped death. Not even her . . .

I glanced around, my brows raising ever so slightly—I knew this forest.

Quite well, actually.

I knew that if I tracked east through the oaks, I would find an effervescent lake—long forgotten by this world. One that was fed with an underground stream of heated water. If I continued onwards from there, I would find myself at the foot of Orion’s Peak. And if I were to fly to the top, I would see a stretch of untouched land, and a bay of water that fed into the Selenian Sea.

Of all the places she could run to . . . this was the spot she chose—

A nameless forest in the land of Edenvale. It meant nothing to her, but it meant something to me. Because this was where I would come when I needed to think, when I needed a moment away from the Spirit Realm, when I needed not to be king.

I shook my head softly, a grin piercing the corners of my mouth—of course Fate would lead us both here. Although I didn’t understand the mechanics of it, it seemed fitting, somehow. And deep down, on some molecular level, I could feel that things were about to shift between us. In what direction I didn’t know, but I was determined to find out.

I ambled forward.

The world was quiet—too quiet—as if it had taken a breath upon my arrival and was now holding it. Even the crickets had fallen silent.

The only thing that made any sound at all was the rapid beating of her heart.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

It called out to me, just as it did that day on the battlefield. She had been so courageous then, facing off against me. What happened to that creature who had iron in her spine and ice in her veins? Where was she now? Hiding among the trees like some frightened animal?

No. That wasn’t her.

And I didn’t buy it for a second.

“Come out, Kitten,” I purred as I prowled ahead, my combat boots crunching the twigs and leaves beneath them. “Show me those pretty, pretty claws, won’t you?”

The breath of my wind floated towards me, carrying her scent with it—fresh, crisp citrus and gentle, airy sea salt. Tracing its origins, my feet stilled, and I looked to my left, over to a towering tree. Its leaves were a lovely, moody red, much like the color of my blood on her daggers. Much like the color her flesh would be when I forged the bond between us—her ivory skin flushed and pearled with sweat.

Above, the light of the moon faded, painting the woods in darkness as a barrage of heavy-bottomed clouds began to roll in over top—a storm was coming.

I started towards the tree, the beast in me licking his lips at what was hiding on the other side of it—no better than a starving wolf closing in on a little rabbit. I circled around the wide trunk. She wasn’t there.

Schhrringg.

A cold, hard, blade pressed against my neck, its sharpness biting into my skin.

“Free me of our deal—” Aurelia demanded from beside me, “—or I will do it myself.”

Her voice was firm. Confident.

Ah, there she was. That was my girl.

I smirked, my canines sinking into my bottom lip before I let it slip free.

Thunder rumbled in the distance and the natural winds began to pick up, blowing around the heavy-topped trees, shaking their branches violently.

“Do it,” she snarled, but her words were all bark and no bite. She was threatening me, yes, but if she really wanted me dead, she would have done it already. Instead, she continued our game of cat and mouse.

“I won’t,” I answered her. My shadows snaked around me, licking at her sword, if only to get a taste of her. I looked over my shoulder, down at her. “I will never free you of our deal.”

Two clouds struck each other, causing a blast of thunder and a flash of light that arched off the blade that was held to my throat. Nature’s waterspout cranked open, bringing an onslaught of heavy, heavy rain, pounding down on us both.

“Why won’t you?” she hissed, her voice so cold it rivalled the frozen wastelands of the north, and yet, the irresistible pheromones she had begun to emit spoke a great deal otherwise—something my divinity all too eagerly picked up on. She might as well have been a cat rubbing herself against me, her tail in the air, flicking back and forth like a waving white flag. Did she enjoy the visual of her blade against my throat? Or was it the adrenaline she felt rushing through her veins, knowing that I was hunting her in these dark woods? Regardless, her sweet scent was like a summoning, calling to my primal nature, begging me to strip her of her clothes and attend to her needs.

“I asked you a question,” Aurelia snarled, ignoring her desire.

Did she not realize I could scent her body’s reaction to mine?

A sigh, born from deep within my chest, rumbled past my lips. “Because I am no better than a winged insect who has lived for an eternity in darkness. I’ve gotten a glimpse of your light and I cannot help but be drawn to you, regardless of if I am destined to burn in your flame. I couldn’t care less. I am obsessed with you in every possible way a god can be, and I will stop at nothing until I have consumed you, just as you have done to me. So you can fight me all you want, but there is only one way this is going to end—with you on your back and my tongue tending to that little problem of yours between your legs.”

Her mouth popped open.

Seeing my chance, my hand shot up, wrapping around her blade with such strength that it squealed beneath my grasp. The sharp edges bit into my skin, conjuring blood to the surface. The light sting was nothing compared to how good it felt to bleed—to feel . . . alive.

That was what she did to me.

And that was why I would never give her up.

“So what will it be, Little Goddess? Will you be a good girl and go down willingly?”

A mighty crack of thunder rumbled the ground beneath my feet, charging the air with electricity.

Her mouth snapped shut, a V forming between her brows. “You are such a bastard.”

“A bastard, am I? Is that why you are dripping wet for me?”

“I am not,” she growled out the lie, baring her adorable little fangs.

I grinned, showing her my wicked canines in return. “Your pheromones say otherwise, darling.”

The blade dissolved and my hand clamped shut, misting my blood into the air, infusing the droplets of rain as they fell to the forest floor. Aurelia leapt backwards, conjuring another sword. Her cloak parted, revealing a white tunic beneath, clinging damply to her heaving breasts.

The sight of her like that—my wild, weapon-wielding beauty—it was enough to make this proud, unkneeling king tempted to drop to his knees.

But I wouldn’t do her such a disservice.

I would give her what she wanted, so that her precious ego could take solace in knowing that she did not go down without a fight.

I rolled my wrist and summoned my sword—Death Weaver. It was made of Vischordian black steel—one of the strongest metals known to immortal kind and nearly impossible to find. Bones were etched into the handle, a screaming skull crowning the pommel. I rotated my wrist, swinging my sword, as I asked, “What will you give me for winning, Little Goddess?”

“You won’t,” she snarled.

I let out a low laugh. “We’ll see about that.”

Then, like the warring clouds above, we collided.

In a flash of obsidian and azure, our blades found each other in a clang so loud that it rivalled the blasts of thunder. The energy produced was like lightning, obliterating the trees surrounding us. She tore her sword from mine and swung again. I parried her attack. Twisting, she pulled back, her movement graceful, elegant. She spun to the side, her heavy, soaked cloak failing to keep up, and fired another shot, one my sword eagerly answered. Stepping out of range, she pulled the string on her cloak and let it fall to the side, unburdening her body from the weight of it.

I lifted a lone brow, shooting her an arrogant, crooked grin. “Undressing yourself so early?”

She bared her teeth at me and attacked again, my laughter filling the air. Our blades became hung up on one another. I had to admit that her swordsmanship was better than I expected it to be, a skill she must have earned during the Immortal War.

“Aren’t you going to thank me, darling?” I purred, blowing water from my lips.

“For what?” she grated, shoving against me with her sword, her eyelashes soaked and clumped together.

I didn’t budge. If she wanted to make any ground here, she was going to have to retract her blade from mine. Or try something else.

“For getting you out of that dreadful palace,” I told her. “Into the real world, where you could do fun things . . . like fight in a war.”

She gave me a peculiar look but didn’t bite as we remained deadlocked, both of us too stubborn to move. That was fine by me—I quite liked her body’s proximity to mine.

Tauntingly, I said, “Had I not started the war between our people, your swordsmanship would not be what it is today. Admit it, you enjoyed bathing in my men’s blood. I know it appealed to some part of your divinity.”

“I didn’t,” she growled as she conjured a shield and sent the lip of it flying for my abdomen—aiming for my freshly healed injury. I caught it before it could connect, and it groaned under my crushing grip. “I hated every second of that fucking war.”

I smirked.

Long gone was the proper lady she portrayed herself to be, replaced by the unpolished, raw version.

That was the real her .

Dredged to the surface after centuries of being buried deep. Underneath the layers of etiquette and decorum and what she was told she needed to be. I would do everything within my power to free her of those personality-numbing expectations.

“I don’t believe that for a second, sweetheart,” I told her. “I saw you on the battlefield that day, covered in mud and blood and high on adrenaline. You were no longer the lifeless, pretty doll who stood by her window, night after night, wondering when her husband would remember she existed. No, with a sword in your hand, you were alive. Just as you are now.”

Her lips parted, but her dangerous tongue was dormant for once, telling me more than her useless lies ever could. I had found the crack in her proud armor—I was getting through to her. A moment passed between us as we stared into one another’s eyes, firmly deadlocked as the thunderstorm raged around us.

“How do you know about the window?” she asked, the malice gone from her voice.

The air shifted between us—that incredible pull tugging with all of its might.

One look at her, and I knew she had to feel it too.

“Because I was there, outside, every night, waiting to catch a glimpse of you.” I let go of her shield. Lowered my voice. “All the time that you spent longing for him, I was there, longing for you.”

“I—I didn’t know.” Her gaze drifted to my lips, lingering there.

Too long .

I grabbed her chin and hauled her mouth to mine through the cross of our blades. Lightning exploded around us, eclipsing the darkness of the night—celebrating our kiss, centuries in the making. My shadows swallowed my sword, freeing my hand so that I could grab her weapon. I took it from her and tossed it to the side while I kissed her senseless, my mouth branding hers as mine .

And for a fleeting moment, she kissed me back.

That small taste of her desire was all she gave me before she rammed her shield into my chest with every ounce of her immortal might. Caught off guard, I was thrown backwards, my body smashing through tree after tree after tree, shattering them upon impact like wooden fireworks going off in the night. My fingers shredded through the soggy ground beneath me, anchoring me to the earth.

When I came to a stop, I grunted as I stood up—

Fuck, that hurt .

My body spat out the wood shards that had slivered their way inside, leaving dozens of little wounds on my lower back. Apart from that, I was covered in mud, grass, and bits of weeds, but it was my pauldron, the left shoulder forged into a skull, that had fared much worse. It was full of cracks and missing pieces that were now lost to the forest. I yanked on the strap that held it in place and it fell to the ground.

My rabid eyes locked on her as I growled, “That wasn’t very nice, Little Goddess.”

She dropped her shield and took a hesitant step back, and then another—that one quicker than the last.

“Do not,” I warned.

And then she did . . . she turned to run, light blooming around her.

She was fast, but my shadows were faster.