Kyan
Kaif stirs angrily when we feel the pain ripple through the bond. It is worse than before, my pants stick to me as I walk up the steps to my room. Blood runs down my legs and soaks through my pants. Kaif’s panic makes my stomach drop as I stare down at my drenched pants.
Kaif wants me to go to her and check on her. He urges me to bring her home and mark her to keep her safe. But I know she can’t really be safe here. Marabella believes she is tainted by darkness, but she isn’t a descendant of the God of Darkness or a descendant of Celeste like I am.
Marabella was granted the touch of death. She isn’t incarnate like I am, and she isn’t stained the way my bloodline is; tainted, and doomed to complete the cycle every twelve generations. Kaif is doomed to relive his mistakes, which dooms me along with him. This darkness within me is far more than she can ever imagine.
She fears herself, when in fact, she should fear me. She should fear what Kaif could do to her, what he has done to his past mates. Every twelve generations he returns, every twelve generations the curse comes back as a reminder it can’t be broken. Punished for his mistake, punished for killing a Demi-Goddess and with it, dooming us all with the consequences of his past actions.
Stripping my black pants off, I peel the fabric down. The blood makes them stick to my legs. My stomach drops at the sight of my leg, her injuries become mine like they always do. Black blood gushes down my leg and spills onto the rug beneath my feet. Time and time again she hurt herself and each time, I would feel it.
“Fuck!” I whisper. These are so much deeper, I can actually pry the wounds apart and see the tissue inside, see the muscle it tore through. Does she not feel pain at all? It seems absurd that one would do this to themselves.
“You did that; she did that because you upset her. Fix it. Fix it now!” Kaif orders, his command rumbles through me, and I grit my teeth, trying to fight him off.
“I do. She will know it’s us. She will know something is up with us!” I spit through clenched teeth.
“Now!” Kaif bellows loudly, and I clutch my head as my entire body vibrates with his command.
“I don’t care. She is ours, mend her now,” he growls. I can feel him pulling on my essence. Pain ripples through my chest.
“Stop, fucking stop, we are linked to her!” I yell at him.
Kaif whimpers, realizing he might have hurt her by hurting me, though not killing her. But the pain would be intense until the bond severed. She will feel us if I don’t keep my guard up. Kaif, losing it, will make her well aware there is a link in place already, one more than a mate bond. That is something I never want her to realize.
“I will do it. Just stop, Kaif,” I tell him as I try to catch my breath.
My hands become coated in my blood as I clutch my leg, feeling the power build and run through my veins, sickly sweet and icy cold as it writhes in my veins. My hands tingle as I focus on her, focus on what she had done to herself.
“A fuil airson m’ fhuil, thoir agus leighis bhuam.” The words roll off my tongue, and magic bursts from my palms, so cold that I shiver.
My veins turn frosty as a cold rush runs up my leg, and pain ripples through me as I siphon it from her and into me, taking it all from her. Blood pours from me as if someone has turned on a tap.
I feel light-headed, yet I can feel her healing, feel my tether strengthening her power, coating it with mine. I hate this sort of magic; it always reminds me of voodoo or necromancy.
We are bonded by death. My power is an old extinct magic, an unused, forgotten kind of power, ancestral omnificent power. I usually avoid using it. I don’t like tapping into this sort of magic.
It can be dangerous, but it is the most powerful. Only the gods have power like mine. My magic knows no bounds, no limits, and no power exists that is stronger. This is the same power I used for my blood tie to Jonah, the same power that brought Marabella back from the dead, binding her soul to mine.
It is unnatural, addictive, and unlimited, but also crazed, sadistic, and menacing. Kaif thrives off its use, and so do I, until the darkness of it comes back for us. The room spins violently as I haul myself to my feet, staggering into my bathroom to grab a hand towel. Snatching it off the ring hanger on the wall, I press it against my leg, waiting for Kaif to heal me.
“Kaif, now before I pass out!” I snap at him. He is angry I refuse to go to her.
“Kaif!” I warn him. I can feel him coming forward. However, he just watches. He wants to punish me, he wishes to weaken me to take control. However, he keeps forgetting that he can also kill us.
“I will message her, just fucking heal me,” I yell at him, needing his Lycan genes to work, and quickly.
I dig my phone out of my pocket to send her a message. My vision blurs as I look for Marabella’s number on my phone, quickly type it out and hit send.
My father didn’t die for you to toss your life away.
Kaif watches through my eyes and growls, “That is what you sent, that? Unsend it, don’t let her see!” he snaps at me.
“Heal me, you idiot!” I scream aloud.
“Take it back,” he hisses.
“I can’t. It is already sent. Now heal me, Kaif,” I scream so loud, I feel like the words are draining me of the leftover energy within me.
“No, you die!” he growls, and I grit my teeth.
“I die, you die fuckhead, now heal me, or you will never see her again!” I snarl at him in a warning.