To Vanquish Darkness (Le Sombre #1)

Chapter 38

38

1836 COUNTRYSIDE BEYOND MORDELLES, FRANCE

A malie pulled the door open, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. The house was silent, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire in the other room and the occasional creak of the old wood.

"I can go up. You could come in the window," she whispered.

Theo didn’t answer, but before she could turn, his arms were around her, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. “I can?—”

“Yes.” Amalie gasped, her hands instinctively gripping his shoulders. They were upstairs in seconds, the only proof of their movement the rush of air against her skin.

Then they were in her bedroom. Her feet were on the floor, and the door clicked closed behind them. Amalie's heart bruised her ribs as she wrapped her arms around herself, the chill of her room hitting her like a wave.

A thin strip of light snuck through the shutters, dusting the floor. It was enough that she could make out Theo’s silhouette. “I was so afraid. When I saw you in the window.”

“I know,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.”

Amalie wanted him to stop apologizing. He was right. She wouldn’t have believed him. If he would’ve appeared in her room and told her he’d known her from a past life or that her blood was meant for him, she would have laughed in his face. And then probably stabbed him again. She never would have gone with him. She wouldn’t have listened.

Theo’s breath was hot against the crown of her head. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true.” His hand grazed her hip. “But it seems even when I try to make you hate me, I can’t quite commit.”

Amalie turned to him, the heat from his body lighting her up like a struck match. “I feel something here.” She lifted his hand and placed it at the base of her ribs. “It reaches for you.”

“I know.” His breath was ragged, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“What is it?”

Theo brushed his hand over the inside of her wrist, then trailed his fingers up her arm, pausing and circling?—

“What are you doing?” Amalie snatched her hand back, stepping away from him.

“Has it appeared yet?” Theo unclasped the button on the cuff of his shirt. He rolled it up and walked toward the window, exposing the runes on his skin in the pale, silvery light.

She took in the scrolls of ink. The symbol she’d seen everywhere in the castle he lived in. On the rings they wore.

Blood rushed in her ears as he watched her, his eyes flicking to her hand wrapped around her arm. She was back in the forest, pulling her shirt over her head. What is that?

Amalie trembled as she unwrapped her fingers and stepped into the light. She held her breath. “How is it possible?” Her head grew thick, her chest tight as she stared at the symbol on her arm. It was no longer smudged.

It was a perfect replica of Theo’s signet.

Theo was in front of her, his hand on the hem of her shirt. “I didn’t want you to understand. I didn’t want you to remember.”

“Why, Theo?” Amalie lifted her arms, allowing him to pull the shirt over her head. He caught her arm, the one he’d used last time. The one with the mark. Amalie thought of those moments in his closet, his hand wrapped around her hip, his lips brushing her skin. “We aren’t safe. What if?—”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Theo’s voice was a low rumble, vibrating through her until her bones quivered. “Nothing matters now.”

His lips were on her, kissing her knuckles, her wrist, the inside of her elbow. “You’re mine, Amalie. You’ve always been mine.”

Her head tipped back, her hand wrapping around his waist, willing him closer. “I know.” The words slipped out of her, light exploding within her.

Theo sucked on her skin, a low growl in his throat. “Tell me to stop. If you want me to?—”

“No. Take it. Please?—”

Theo’s fangs pierced her skin, her feet leaving the floor as the force of him pushed her up against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him as warmth spread through her like spiced wine.

She couldn’t stop herself from touching him. Her free hand found his neck, her nails biting into his skin one moment, her fingers threading through his hair the next.

The heat within her built, coiling until she could barely stand it. “Theo—” she gasped for breath, liquid fire consuming her from the inside out. And then the mark on her arm, the symbol she now shared with Theo, ignited.

Her mind splintered, sending shards of flickering glass through her consciousness. She was falling. Tumbling. Whirling into darkness.