Fairydale: A Dark Gothic Fantasy Romance

‘Amon,’ I whisper through misted eyes.

He’s standing before me, eyes wide, features gaunt and filled with pain.

For a second, I simply take him in, drink in the sight of him and bask in the sheer magnetism of his presence. A few feet apart and I still feel it—the way the air crackles around us, the atmosphere heavier than it’s ever been.

My heart hammers in my chest.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The sound would be deafening if not for the loudness of my thoughts—the way my entire being is screaming with happiness.

He is just as handsome as I remembered, with his chiseled features, full mouth and mesmerizing eyes. He’s wearing a black fitted shirt and a pair of loose pants that only serve to emphasize the muscular build of his upper body.

His white hair flows down his back unrestrained—a contrast to his dark clothes.

But it’s his eyes that have me riveted to the spot as they shift color under my very gaze.

Blue. Red. Black. Then Red again.

The colors of his eyes are the evidence of his volcanic emotions—as out of control as mine.  He gazes upon me as if I’m a mere mirage, something he’s conjured up in his mind.

His eyes slowly move over my form, blinking as he swallows hard, a torrent of longing written on his face.

My breath hitches as our gazes connect, an invisible tether irrevocably tying us together.

In that moment I know.

I simply know that this is what I’d been searching for my entire life. His absence is the reason for that restlessness that simmered in my blood for so long. And his presence…

His presence makes my essence sing.

Without him, I was lost. With him, I am found again.

Instinct takes over as I move. The basket drops to the ground as I fling myself forward.

One step.

Two.

On the third I am in his arms, his heat penetrating my skin and telling me this is real. That I am not imagining it, just as he isn’t imagining it.

‘Amon, my Amon,’ I whisper as I hold tightly onto him, almost wishing I could become one with him so he could never be apart from me. So this moment would survive in all eternity. Just the two of us like this.

Together. Touching. Feeling.

Being as we were always meant to be—two, never one.

‘You’re here,’ he whispers, his voice bleeding hope and anguish. ‘You’re here,’ he repeats as he draws back.

Tentatively, his hands reach for my cheeks, cradling my face between his big palms.

He swirls his thumbs over my skin—slow languorous movements that make me want to purr out loud and present myself to him in an ancient mating ceremony.

‘Darcy,’ he groans. My name on his lips is quite possibly the greatest joy I’ve ever known.

‘I’m here. I’ve come for you,’ I tell him fervently. ‘I would always come for you. I’m just sorry it took me so long,’ I say as tears fall down my cheeks.

Before I know it, his lips are on my skin, his tongue catching my tears before he kisses my eyes. Every touch is slow, tentative, as if he’s still convincing himself this is real.

‘I would have waited an eternity for you,’ he murmurs. ‘Knowing you would come for me is the only thing that kept me sane.’

I hug him harder, wrapping my arms around his midriff and burying my face in his chest.

A low hum vibrates in his chest and he winces as I tighten my hold.

Immediately, my eyes widen as I step back, assessing him with questioning eyes.

His hand goes to his ribs as his cheek twitches in pain.

‘You’re hurt,’ I state plainly. Before he can deny it, I grab the hem of his shirt and slide it up his torso, the ugly sight making me gasp.

His entire upper body is purple, gashes running from his pectorals all the way to his belly.

‘It’s not that bad,’ he gives me a tight smile.

‘This is not bad?’ I demand, horrified. ‘Amon, you’re hurt all over. It’s from that blast isn’t it?’

He shakes his head.

‘It’s really not bad. It will heal,’ he nods, his eyes big and round as he looks at me as if he’d like nothing better for me to drop the issue.

Just as I open my mouth to speak, though, he grips his midriff as a coughing fit assails him, blood splattering all over his hands and trickling down his chin.

Panic erupts in my chest.

‘That is not bad?’ I ask numbly.

‘I’m…fine,’ he says between coughs and more blood.

I shake my head at him.

‘You’re not fine. You need to sit,’ I tell him, taking his hand and leading him to the bed.

He doesn’t protest, merely staring at me. Either he’s too weak from his injuries, or he’s simply abiding to my wishes to please me. That thought alone makes me lean in to kiss his brow before panic takes hold of me anew and I pull at his shirt.

‘Tell me the truth, please,’ I murmur as I slide the shirt off his body, only to discover more wounds, some deep and bleeding while others faded and in the process of healing.

His face is the only area on his body that isn’t injured.

God, but I didn’t imagine he’d be so hurt, and to this degree. This isn’t just from the blast, is it?

It can’t possibly be.

Recovering my basket, I place it by his side as I remove some of the items I’d brought.

‘Why are you like this, Amon?’ I ask, hurting just looking at the state he is in.

His lips flatten in discomfort just as his hands come atop of mine, stopping my fretting.

‘It’s the price I pay for leaving this place,’ he tells me in a soft voice.

‘Wh-what?’

‘This,’ he nods to the area around, ‘is a prison with a mind of its own. And just like any other prison, it punishes its inmates when they try to escape.’

‘You mean…’ I wet my lips, my forehead creasing with worry.

He nods.

‘I can go out for limited periods of time, but that always comes with a price.’

‘This?’ I can only stare at him flabbergasted. ‘You… Please explain.’

His hands tighten over my own.

‘It took me decades to gather the strength to fight against it. Eventually I managed to get out, but it’s only for a limited time and within the town radius. But the prison always fights back.’

‘Tell me more specifically. What is the exact price,’ I demand softly.

‘I’m not sure what their policy is,’ he gives a dry laugh, ‘but one day out usually equals about a thousand lashings.’

I gulp down against a wave of nausea that threatens to overtake me.

‘A thousand lashings? But who…’

‘The spell that trapped me is not static. Just like action and reaction, it responds to any disturbance.’

My eyes widen.

‘Then what about my being here? Please don’t tell me that’s going to get you punished again.’

He smiles.

‘No. You’re not the first one to come down here. There is no side effect of you being here,’ he assures me quietly, but all I can think of is the fact that I’m not the first one here with him.

‘Who was it?’ I bite out, jealousy unlike I’ve ever experienced fueling my words.

He chuckles, and bringing his hand to my cheek he caresses me lightly.

‘Lydia,’ he answers.

‘L-Lydia?’

He nods.

‘She used to come visit me often until she passed. She is the one who put the barrier spell in the tunnel so no one else could come here—no one but you.’

‘Oh, Amon,’ I take his hand, bringing it to my mouth for a kiss. ‘I’m so happy she was there for you.’

His features turn sad, his eyes glossy with unshed tears.

‘It was the most unusual thing, Darcy, to watch my child grow old and die. I suppose I should have known it was going to happen eventually, but I never realized how hard it would be.’

‘She was happy, was she not?’

He nods, his lips tipping up in a slight smile.

‘She came to ask me for permission before she married Hale. She was so happy and in love that I could only encourage her to follow her heart. But because I was here, she decided to move back with her family,’ he relates fondly. ‘She was devastated when you died…’ he trails off as his voice breaks.

‘She knew,’ I tell him. ‘She saw what would happen, both with me and with Abraham. I’m sure of it. She tried to tell me,’ I choke on a sob. ‘She tried to tell me not to give Abel the necklace.’

‘Shh, please don’t cry,’ he murmurs as he cups my cheeks, resting his forehead on top of mine. ‘It breaks my heart when you cry, my darling girl.’

I wipe at my eyes as I take a water bottle from my basket, wetting a towel and bringing it to his chest.

He releases a hiss when the cold material touches his wounds.

‘I need to patch you up,’ I say as I sniffle—anything to take my mind off the past. At least for now.

It’s still too sudden, too raw.

It might have happened in the last century, but for me it’s like it happened yesterday.

‘How is your healing?’ I bite my lip as I focus on cleaning him carefully.

Some of the injuries are nasty looking and potentially infected. To realize that he’s been getting these to come be with me is absolutely devastating. Especially since I now understand why he’s been absent for the last few days.

He’s been here suffering. Alone.

All for me.

‘Slow,’ he answers. ‘The prison inhibits some of my abilities, but even if I were operating at full capacity, the recurrent injuries take a toll on how much I can function and move around.’

‘And you got hit with that blast, too.’

‘Compared to the prison lashings, that was like a light caress,’ he laughs.

‘Amon…’ I look up at him, my features torn with worry, sadness and absolute frustration at being unable to help him in any way.

‘Don’t worry about me, Darcy darlin’. I’m used to the pain. Flesh wounds come and go. They are nothing new to me. Just having you here, with your gentle hands on me is like a balm to my soul. For this alone I would endure much, much worse.’

‘But these are because of me,’ I sigh. ‘Because you went out to see me. If I’d known…’

He shakes his head.

‘I would have never wanted you to know,’ he declares.

‘You silly man,’ I sob as I clean his torso. ‘If you hurt I hurt more, don’t you know that?’

Slowly, I bring my misty eyes to his, watching the play of emotions on his face.

He’s clenching his jaw in an attempt to stifle his feelings, but I know.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers. ‘I never wanted to worry you.’

‘From now on, you’re not coming out. I’ll come to you every day, but you’re not risking more for me, ok?’

‘Darcy…’ he groans.

‘Ok?’ I repeat, a steely determination in my voice.

‘Unless you’re in danger. Then I’ll come,’ he counters.

‘Amon…’

‘Darcy…’

We’re at a standstill as we stare at each other, neither willing to make a concession on this.

‘Fine. Only if I’m in grave danger.’

‘You have a deal,’ he chuckles, though the action makes his injuries hurt.

‘That reminds me. All those times when I felt a change in the air, it was you, was it not?’

He nods.

‘When all you have is time…’

‘You devote it to perfection,’ I fill in his words.

His brows go up in surprise before he throws his head and laughs.

‘Ah, my love, how I’ve missed you,’ he tells me sweetly. ‘You are correct. Since I’ve been trapped here for so long, I’ve learned a trick or two. In this world, it’s called astral projection. Lydia was the one who taught me how to do it. Since I already have enhanced mental abilities, she used to bring me books on the topic. You could say I’ve learned a lot in the last one hundred and fifty years.’

I look at him in awe.

‘What else can you do?’ I whisper, remembering what Kress and Finn had mentioned. ‘Something like…matter manipulation?’

He nods.

‘It’s something that no one else, apart from you, knew about me,’ he confesses.

‘You were the one who killed the gargoyles, weren’t you? Just like you were the one to kill those people…’

His lips flatten as he gives me a tentative nod.

‘It’s ok.’ My hand stops on his chest, the combination of blood and water coursing down his skin. ‘I won’t judge you, nor will I blame you. I understand.’

‘I could never let anyone who threatened you live. Never.‘

‘Is that what happened with my sister?’ I ask before I can help myself.

His features harden.

‘Yes,’ he confirms. ‘Your sister and her husband were working with Kress and Finn. Somehow, your sister found out about our relationship and she was about to tell everyone.’

I purse my lips as I think of the past.

‘One of her gifts was mirror divination.’

‘I couldn’t let her tell anyone, love. I’m sorry,’ he apologizes.

‘I understand,’ I give him a tender smile. ‘You know, in the past, I was disappointed you’d never told me about it. That you hid something like that from me for ten long years. If you’d told to me about it… I wouldn’t have been that upset, I think,’ I admit.

It might make me a bad person to be so inconsiderate of my own relatives, but for me, he comes first. Always.

‘Darcy,’ he whispers, his eyes full of emotion.

‘That day… I was waiting for you. I kept waiting for you,’ a sob escapes me. ‘Even as my life was fading away, I was waiting for you because I knew you would always come. And you did come. You came for me.’

‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,’ he curses, and before I know it, he pulls me towards him, burying his face in the crook of my neck and hugging me to him.

My hand falls away and I let him hold me. The blood from his wounds soaks the front of my dress, but for one moment, I can’t seem to find it in me to stop him.

Not when it’s clear he needs this just as much as I do—maybe more.

‘I came too late,’ he croaks, his voice gravelly from the intensity of his feelings. ‘I’m so sorry. So very sorry, my love. I failed you.’

I shake my head.

‘You didn’t. I’m here. You’re here. And I’ll get you out of this damned prison if it’s the last thing I do. You have my promise on that, Amon. They won’t win.’

‘I won’t fail you a third time,’ he whispers in my hair, dragging his mouth across my cheek before he reaches my lips.

He hesitates for a moment, his forehead on mine as he looks into my eyes for confirmation. And I give it to him—this is something I would never deny him.

Slowly, he lays a soft kiss to my lips, a tentative brush of his mouth on top of mine.

I sigh as I tip my face up, giving myself to him.

‘My beautiful mate,’ he rasps against me, nibbling at my lips and laying small bites all over the surface of my skin before he gives me our first proper kiss.

His mouth opens on top of mine, his tongue brushing against the seam of my lips as he demands entrance.

I’m powerless against him as I gasp and moan, my hands grasping at his shoulders in an attempt to ground myself. Yet it’s useless when pleasure unlike I’ve ever known bursts inside of me as he continues kissing me.

I taste a mix of blood and that male flavor that is specifically his and I feel myself slipping, my body humming with unreleased tension.

There’s nothing more potent than knowing I am with the only man who completes me in the entire world—the one who claims my heart, my soul, my goddamn essence and everything that I am.

His lips on top of mine are like homecoming. Like an euphoric potion that gets me drunk on life and the happiness of living—of being in this moment.

Present. Taking. Yielding.

We kiss for what seems like an eternity, and although we are both breathing hard and gasping for air, we’d rather gasp for each other and with each other. My lungs, just like every cell in my body, is full of him, his breath my breath, his essence my essence.

He could consume me and I wouldn’t care because for once, for the first time in this life as Darcy O’Sullivan, I am happy.

I am home.

‘Easy,’ he whispers as he wrenches himself from me.

His eyes are fully black as he barely contains himself. Yet the tension in his jaw is unmistakable, as is the fact that he is in pain.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I apologize as I scramble off his lap—how did I even get there?

Getting to my knees on the floor before him, I pick up the discarded towel and I set about cleaning his wounds again. Yet he doesn’t let me continue, suddenly stopping me.

His body radiates with unleashed energy—something I can feel in the way the air around us crackles with danger.

‘What…’ I blink in surprise as I see him climb off the bed and lower himself to the floor to be on the same level as me.

‘I never want to see you kneel before me,’ he murmurs softly as he rests his back against the cold wall. ‘You will never kneel before anyone, Darcy. If anything, the world will kneel in front of you,’ he states, his voice completely serious.

‘If you move around like that I won’t ever finish this,’ I grumble, though my cheeks heat up from his pronouncement.

I bring the towel to each wound, horrified to see just how much blood pours out, some of his wounds already swollen and infected.

‘How long does it take for these to go away?’

He shrugs.

Frowning, I look up at him to clarify.

‘I haven’t been injury-free in a long time. I suppose,’ he pauses as he thinks, ‘maybe a few weeks or so?’

‘Even if they are infected?’

He grunts.

‘I have to open them back up if they are infected.’

I wince at his comment, already imagining him cutting open his own flesh to drain the pus so he can heal properly.

‘I don’t have your healing abilities,’ he chuckles. ‘I never did. Even at my full capacity it would take me quite some time to heal.’

I nod, though it doesn’t help the squeeze of my heart as I conjure up images of him alone and in pain. God, but those simply gut me.

‘Would it work if I gave you some of my blood?’ I ask softly.

His eyes turn red before he can stop himself, hunger etched on his features.

‘Yes,’ he replies.

‘Then why did you not say so from the beginning?’

‘I would never ask you to do that for me…’

‘If I want to? God, how can you even think otherwise. Here, take some,’ I extend my arm towards him.

He’s staring intently at me, not making to move or accept my offer.

‘Amon, you need to heal and be at full strength for the next few weeks. If this helps, then please,’ I tell him gently, caressing his cheek as I bring my hand to his mouth.

‘If you’re sure…’ he murmurs, and before I know it, his hand is on my nape as he brings me to him, his nose nuzzling against my throat before he opens his lips over my skin.

I part my legs as he pulls me on his lap, my dress bunching around my hips, my center resting on top of his erection. God, but he is hard and pulsating with strength. The slight material between us is an inconvenience that we could do without, though I don’t dare voice that thought out loud—not when it is imperative he heal first.

His lips on my skin, at first he simply laps at the area, licking it thoroughly before I feel the sharpness of his teeth against my flesh. But he doesn’t bite immediately.

He grazes the surface, the effect immediate as goosebumps erupt all over my body. The entire gesture is so erotically charged I find myself getting increasingly aroused by it.

The heat and wetness of his mouth, the sharpness of his teeth—all make me want to combust in his embrace.

I arch my back into him, gasping just as he pierces the skin, deep enough that I can feel the blood flooding to the surface.

My lips part on a silent moan as the combination of pain and pleasure bursts through me, my entire body growing feverish and out of control. I squirm against him, seeking to feel him closer, harder, deeper.

I want him like I never thought I’d want anything in my life, and if he decided to take me on the spot, I would not protest. I would let him thoroughly have his way with me, hard and fast as he wants—as we both need. Already, I can picture him pulling his cock out and impaling me in one swift thrust, ripping through my virginity and claiming me as his—always his.

My imagination continues to fill the gaps as his hands cup my ass, kneading my flesh as he brings me closer to his hardness, moving me on top of him in circular motions that have me weep for relief.

At the same time, he drinks greedily, sucking in my skin as his tongue gently soothes the puncture wounds. There’s pain, but there’s also pleasure in pain—a special brand that only he is capable of giving me.

My breathing intensifies. I’m panting harshly as I rub myself against him in an attempt to alleviate the growing discomfort between my legs. My core pulses with a need for release—one that I know only he can give me.

Keeping one hand on my ass, he moves the other up my body, caressing me softly before pulling at my dress. The buttons pop and as he tugs on my brassiere, it gives way, my breasts spilling out in the open.

He brushes his fingers against my nipples, alternating between soft caresses and harsh pinches of pain that startle me as they excite me.

‘Bite me,’ he groans, lifting his mouth just enough to speak that one command before he’s back at lapping at my blood.

Euphoria fogs my brain, my mind slipping from me as I can only obey him. Bringing my mouth against his neck, I brush my lips against his warm skin, inhaling his clean yet musky scent. My tongue peeks out to lick his flesh, a hum of appreciation escaping me at his taste.

I don’t know how I’m going to bite him. My teeth aren’t as sharp as his to penetrate the skin. But at this point, I’m too gone to consider that. I simply open my mouth wider, lodging my teeth in his skin and biting.

Hard.

So hard that I draw blood.

The sweet metallic taste hits me immediately, as well as something else—something that leaves me breathless and wanting. My head swims as I become intoxicated by the flavor of him. I suck his flesh in, my lips making love to his neck just as his do to mine.

The more I taste him and feel myself tasted in return, the greedier I become for more of him.

Sneaking my hand between our bodies, I undo the buttons of his pants, reaching inside and wrapping my hand around his hot flesh, stroking him.

He’s so big and thick—just as I remember. I squeeze my inner muscles in response, the thought of having him inside and stretching me making me mad with desire. Especially as my thumb brushes against the ringed head, feeling that thick metal that symbolizes his loyalty to me.

I’m growing hotter and hotter just touching him, feeling the moisture at the tip of his cock and imagining him filling me with his hot seed.

A ravaged cry escapes him as his hand skims the surface of my underwear, pulling it to the side so he can touch me freely. His fingers dip between my folds, finding me absolutely drenched for him. My breath catches in my throat at the sensation—at finally having his hands on me.

Everything is hot and growing hotter—the air around us, the blood in my mouth, in his mouth; his silky hardness that throbs in my hand, my damp core that purrs against his hand. Just feeling him like this and all sensations are suddenly amplified, his presence my only requisite for pleasure.

God, but my dreams had never prepared me for the reality that is Amon, the sheer physicality of him or the unspeakable pleasure he’s capable of racking from my body—with just one touch.

I squeeze his erection just as he slowly circles my bud, making me whimper as I get drunk on his blood and the taste of him. When he has me on the brink of insanity, he pushes two thick digits inside of me, stretching me and leaving a pleasurable burn behind.

That’s him. My Amon. The only one who can hurt me and love me at the same time—whose bite of pain is as heavenly as his lick of pleasure.

Soon, he establishes a rhythm as he pumps his fingers in and out of my tight channel, my climax building and building until I come—harder than ever before.

‘Yes, please,’ I cry out against his skin as I continue to suck on his blood.

My vocal confirmation sets him off, and before I know it, he has me on my back, my legs spread as he drives his thick cock inside me in one smooth thrust.

My eyes widen at the sudden rip of pain, but just as it comes, it’s gone, replaced by a maddening fullness as he pushes his way inside me until he’s buried to the hilt.

God, but I feel him everywhere.

‘Amon,’ I thrash on the ground, wrapping my legs around him and holding on to him.

He leans back, blood clinging to his lips and staining his teeth, his eyes equally red as he regards me with a crazed expression on his face. One filled with lust, love, and an insane animalistic attraction that makes my own heart pound, that restlessness in my blood moving in tune with his.

‘Darcy,’ he rasps as his fingers dig in the soft skin above my hip bone, holding me in a bruising grip.

‘Mine,’ he declares on a ragged voice. ‘My love. My lover. My fucking mate,’ he says as he withdraws all the way before slamming back inside me.

Pain mingles with pleasure as his cockring hits a deep spot within me.

He repeats the motion, gripping my ass and pulling me towards him until my pelvis meets his. He is so thoroughly inside of me I swear to God, I feel him in my belly. I release a startled breath as he circles his hips, his cock moving inside of me until no place is left untouched.

He’s on his knees while I’m on my back, held immobile by his deathly grip and the way he surges back and forth, every savage thrust making me reel.

Yet from my position I can see him entirely healed. His wounds, previously ugly and jagged, have now closed, and only the stain of red remains.

‘I love you, Amon,’ I confess, the sound torn from my lips.

‘Dreamed of this too long,’ he grunts. ‘Too fucking long. Love you too much to go slow…’

‘So take me. I’m yours. All yours. Don’t hold back, please,’ I whisper, tears appearing at the corners of my eyes at the onslaught of sensations that rack my body.

I am absolutely at his mercy, yet I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Yet no sooner are the words out of my mouth than I find myself on the bed, on my knees, with Amon mounting me from behind. He nudges his cock against my entrance but he doesn’t push it inside. Sliding it against my folds, he lathers it in my wetness as the ring bumps against my sensitive bud, rubbing and stimulating it until I’m screaming his name as I come.

Taking advantage of my climax, he grips my hips as he thrusts all the way inside me, this position making me feel him deeper than before, and almost impossibly larger.

‘Gods, Darcy, how well you take me. Your tight little cunt’s strangling the hell out of my cock, lass. Fuck,’ he growls, his voice reverberating in the entire room, the walls seemingly shaking from the echo.

‘More, please’ I breathe out.

‘That’s it, love. Only I get to fill you.’ Thrust. ‘Only I get to fuck you.’ Thrust. ‘Only I get to pleasure you.’ Thrust. ‘Only I get to touch you. For all fucking eternity.’

‘Only you, Amon,’ I moan. ‘Only ever you.’

His fingers dig in my flesh as he thrusts in and out of my body, every time a little harder and faster—every time filling me deeper.

Suddenly, his fingers move to my neck as he pulls me against him, my back meeting his front as he continues to push into me. His teeth nibble at my skin in the exact spot he’d bitten me before.

‘You’re so wet, lass. All wet for me,’ he murmurs in my ear, his voice more sedated even as he plunders my body with the same ferocity as before.

His teeth lodge in my skin as he bites just like before, more blood reaching the surface before he licks it all. The sting of pain overstimulates my body until I’m clamping on his cock with the power of my orgasm.

‘That’s it,’ he groans. ‘So fucking tight. You’re gripping me like a fucking vise. Come,’ he bites my skin. ‘Come again.’

Tremors rack my body as I start trembling uncontrollably with the power of the next climax.

‘It’s too much,’ I gasp. ‘Too…’

‘I’m right here with you,’ he breathes harshly. ‘I’ve got you,’ he says as he holds me tighter to his body, one hand still on my neck while his other arm snakes around my front, gluing me to him as he pistons in and out of me.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoes in the room, as do my frenzied moans and the fact that I’m no longer in control of my body.

He is.

Climax after climax, he takes advantage of my tightening muscles to fuck me harder, pushing himself deeper inside me, with so much strength that I feel like I’m being ripped apart—yet the ghost of pain that accompanies his brutal fucking only serves to enhance the pleasure, making me wetter. I’m becoming increasingly more aroused where I did not think it would ever be possible.

‘Just like that, lass. Take me. Take everything I fucking am. Everything that is yours and yours alone,’ he groans.

His cock twitches inside of me, seemingly swelling in size as he fills my insides with his hot seed. He comes in long, never-ending spurts, and I feel his release everywhere.

Slumping against me, he holds me in his arms as we both struggle to find our breaths.

He nuzzles his face in my neck, giving me long, unhurried licks as he cleans the blood off my skin.

I purr softly against him, feeling utterly content and at peace.

My entire body is lethargic, and I can hardly move my limbs.

Amon doesn’t seem to share my languid state as he turns me around, laying me on the bed and pulling my legs apart to examine me.

‘What are you doing?’ I whisper in a barely audible voice. My throat hurts from too much screaming.

‘Watching you,’ he says, his tone tinged with wonder. ‘Watching my little treasure,’ he continues as he brushes a finger against my battered sex, sliding it through my folds and gathering the combination of our releases, only to push it back inside of me.

‘I didn’t hurt you too much, did I?’ he asks as he circles my entrance, massaging all of the cum that drips out of me back inside. He swirls his fingers masterfully, eliciting small moans of approval from me.

I shake my head.

‘It was absolutely perfect,’ I sigh dreamily.

‘Are you sure?’ he murmurs worriedly. ‘It was your first time in this body and I…’ he swallows. ‘I have no control when it comes to you.’

‘You gave me more pleasure than I could ever imagine, Amon,’ I smile at him.

‘Good, good,’ he nods, more to himself.

Tugging on his long hair, I pull him towards me.

‘Kiss me,’ I whisper.

And he does. For moments on end, he does.

It’s a while later that he brings a wet towel between my legs, cleaning me carefully.

Once the frenzy from before passes, I tug on my dress and underwear, putting myself together as I blush at my wanton behavior. He certainly has the how to get me mad with lust recipe down to a t.

We hadn’t even taken our clothes off before he’d fucked me harder than I thought someone could get fucked. And as I feel tender all over—but slowly mending—I understand why he’d been so wary about taking me before, when I hadn’t possessed my healing abilities. He definitely bruised and made me sore, but it was all in the most delicious type of way.

Though I’d thought about how our first time would be many times in the past, I have to say that this is beyond anything I could have imagined.

It was raw and animalistic, rooted in the most primal feeling there is.

And I have absolutely no regrets.

It seems that most of my prudishness has gone away with his wicked influence.

I smile to myself just as he comes next to me, pulling me in his arms and kissing my brow.

‘You know,’ he smiles sheepishly. ‘Everyone got it so, so wrong.’

I raise my brows in question.

‘Your blood. Yes, it is precious, but only for me.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘That damned coven and everyone else seems to think your blood has some magical properties. What had Fiona said, that it’s the fountain of immortality?’ he chuckles. ‘It’s not. To any other person, it would be useless.’

‘I still don’t…’

‘You’re my mate, Darcy. Mine. Your essence feeds me and only me, just like mine feeds you,’ he explains.

‘That’s why you didn’t mind that I was on my period,’ I mumble embarrassed under my breath.

He chuckles.

‘Guilty,’ he says as he puts his hands up. ‘I loved tasting you on your period. And I hope you might let me do that again,’ he drawls, but there’s a hidden gleam in his eyes—something that looks like…hope.

Mortification colors my cheeks as I avert my gaze. Yet it’s not before a maybe slips past my lips. After all, for him I’d do anything, wouldn’t I?

‘Wait,’ I whip my head around, realizing something. ‘But why would they think my blood is so special then?’

‘Because the coven operates on a mountain of misinformation. Most of it perpetuated by Kress, Finn and the Holy See,’ he shrugs. ‘But also because our dear daughter had a hand in helping it spread in a way that would help us.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Lydia’s power was not to make clear-cut predictions. She saw versions of the future. Potential events that could happen. She saw everything like a map where a chain of events would lead to an outcome, but if even one event were to change, the entire outcome would be different too.’

He takes the towel and cleans the residue of blood from his torso before materializing another shirt that he shrugs on his body.

‘She had many visions regarding us and what would happen when you were born again, but in all of them we…failed.’

‘Failed?’

‘We died,’ he states, his features grave.

I stare at him open-mouthed.

‘Only in one version would we succeed, and for that to happen we had to endure some hardships along the way. She did her best to ensure that version of the future would be the only one.’

‘Then the prophecy that I can eradicate evil or unleash it…’

‘It was two-fold to confuse both the coven and Abel. I think you already know what he means to do…’ he trails off, disappointment marring his features.

‘He wants to use me to release you so he can then take your powers. Just as the coven wants to use me to kill you,’ I add carefully.

‘Indeed,’ he sighs. ‘And the only way for us to win is for you to get your necklace back from Abel, and then get access to the forbidden spells of the coven—in that order.’

‘I see,’ I bite my lip as I regard him thoughtfully. ‘So everything needs to be played according to a script.’

‘Yes.’

‘Is that why… Is that why you pretended to be Caleb, too?’ I inquire softly, though the curiosity is killing me. I’ve been wanting to ask him that from the beginning, but with his injuries it didn’t seem like a good time.

His lips curl up in a devastating smile—certainly one that makes my insides tingle, butterflies having an all-out celebration in my stomach.

‘You’re right. Lydia advised me against meeting you as myself until the time was right—until you fully remembered your past as Elizabeth. And the truth is… I couldn’t stay away,’ he admits with a sigh. ‘Are you mad at me?’ he suddenly asks, panic flaring in his eyes.

‘I am confused. Maybe it might not seem so, but you played with my feelings,’ I admit as I fidget with my hands in my lap. ‘During the day you made me fall for you as Caleb and at night I’d see the past and I would love you as Amon. At one point I was wondering how I could possibly love and desire two men equally. To an extent I think I did know, deep down, that I couldn’t possibly fall for two. But in my mind I was just…confused.’

He nods thoughtfully, his mouth set in a grim line.

‘I’m sorry about deceiving you. You have every right to be upset about that, love. But…’ he takes a deep breath. ‘After Rhiannon showed you that false memory from o-five, you gave in to me for the first time as Caleb. If you want to know the truth, it’s that I was afraid,’ he confesses as he tucks my hair behind my ear. ‘Without your memories, I was afraid they would all poison your mind against me and take advantage of you. But most of all…I was jealous. Mad, mad with jealousy.’

‘What?’ I blink in surprise.

‘When you first came to Fairydale, I was a fucking mess thinking you might have had someone else. You spent so much time away from here—away from me. And with no recollection of what we were to each other you could have…’ he trails off on a pained groan. ‘I was consumed by jealousy,’ he states vehemently.

The little moments come to mind, especially the time at the cabin where he’d been scary in his jealousy.

‘You scared me at the cabin,’ I murmur.

‘I scared myself. I was so mindless just thinking about you with another man, that I almost ruined everything,’ he groans.

‘But why Caleb? Did you know he was dead?’

‘Yes. It was why it proved to be the perfect opening for me. I would be there for you while using my mind control to ensure no one else but you saw me. That way, I could gently steer you in the right direction but without too much interference. The goal was to make you remember on your own, and reach your own conclusions.’

‘Is that why you never told me too much?’

He nods.

‘You have no idea how painful it was to see you so oblivious of our past and everything around. I wanted to tell you everything every single day. But Lydia had foreseen a version of the future in which I told you the truth from the beginning, and the coven ultimately convinced you it was all a lie.’

‘I understand,’ I tell him softly. And I do—especially as I see how conflicted he is about the entire situation. ‘But I hope you now know you have no reason to be jealous of anyone,’ I smile warmly at him.

‘No reason?’ he scoffs. ‘Darlin’, I was fucking jealous of myself,’ he suddenly says.

My eyes widen in confusion.

‘Every time you called me Caleb instead of my name, I was dying inside. Especially when I made you come. That was, quite honestly, the biggest blow.’

A snort escapes me, followed by a giggle before I can’t help myself but laugh. He is so serious about this, so full of indignation that I feel bad for finding it amusing. But how can I not?

‘So let me get this right. You were jealous of yourself?’

He grumbles something under his breath, looking away as he realizes how this all sounds, too.

‘Ah, my beloved Amon,’ I whisper as I come closer, nestling against his chest and nuzzling my face against it. ‘You’re so cute.’

‘I’m not cute,’ he huffs, though his arms are locked tightly around me.

‘Yes, you are,’ I tell him pointedly. ‘And you are also the only man I’ve ever wanted. In this life, or the one before. Yes, I was away from you for a long time, with no memory of you or of our love. But I never looked at another man. Of that you have my vow.’

Leaning back just enough so he can look into my eyes, I topple all my mental barriers as I give him unfettered access to my mind, showing him my entire life before him.

‘Darcy…’ he whispers in awe as he sees everything that happened in my life before Fairydale. Most importantly, he can see my naked feelings and the fact that even as I was falling for Caleb, my heart was irrevocably his.

‘See? There is no reason to be jealous,’ I murmur lovingly.

‘My darling girl,’ he whispers as he brings his lips to my face, peppering kisses all over my skin. Tugging me to his chest, he rocks softly with me—almost as if he didn’t dare let me go for fear this is all a dream. His warmth penetrates my skin as he imprints himself on me, his presence making me feel complete for the first time in my life.

‘I’ve never looked at another female in my entire existence,’ he answers my silent question. ‘Only you, my love. Before, or after. Only ever you.’

I would have never doubted that, but hearing his verbal confirmation brings an ineffable peace to my soul—as if I’ve been teetering on the edge of the precipice until now but I’ve finally found my balance.

Holding me in his arms, he explains everything from the beginning—how he’d used Caleb’s identity to get closer to me but also protect me from the people in town. His telepathic abilities had helped him sow different thoughts into people’s minds to create a reality where it seemed that his Caleb was part of the town’s fabric. And since I can’t not question him about Grace and her supposed crush on him, he confirms that her crush had been on the real Caleb, not on him and that he’d never met her. He’d merely borrowed some of the real Caleb’s life history to have a more solid background while still being himself.

I nod, happy he’s giving me a detailed account of everything. I may be still smarting about his small deception, but I can’t help the way my heart warms at his efforts to be by my side.

‘Can you tell me what happened in eighteen-five? How did the plague come about?’

I remember my own side of the story, but I still do not know his.

‘Kress and Finn ambushed me at the outskirts of the town. They were no match for me, but they slowed me down. When I tried to get to the church, most of the residents went against me. I realized after that Abel had made a deal with the mayor’s son to raise the town against us—they even sent some people to raid our house. Luckily, Lydia knew about it and she hid,’ he smiles against my skin. ‘But when I arrived at the church and saw you and Abraham…’ his voice breaks just as his arms tighten around me. ‘I was out of control, love. I didn’t even realize what was happening. I only knew I wanted everyone to hurt as much as I did. And if the coven hadn’t come at that time, I fear…’ he swallows hard. ‘I fear no one would have been safe. Guilty or innocent. I would have killed everyone. Just like before…’ he trails off and I instinctively know he means when Sela died—events which I still do not remember.

I bring my hand on top of his, swirling my finger over his skin in a comforting gesture.

‘It’s ok,’ I whisper. I’d already intuited he would have been devastated by that sight. ‘I don’t blame you. If I were capable of it, I would have done the same,’ I admit, even as it pains me. After all, I’d once thought Amon was lost to me, and I lost myself too.

‘It was a coordinated attack they’d been planning for years, Darcy. And because I trusted Abel, I was never aware,’ he whispers, telling me how much he regrets never probing his mind.

‘Don’t beat yourself for it. He was our son. It’s normal to not suspect him.’

‘I should have paid more attention to him. I would have realized that all he wanted was power. Just like Ambrosius, just like everyone else we ever met. All they ever want is power,’ he says in a ragged voice.

‘Ambrosius?’

The name sounds vaguely familiar.

‘You might know your life as Elizabeth,’ he murmurs against my cheek. ‘But you still need to remember your life as Sela.’

‘You won’t tell me?’

He shakes his head.

‘You need to remember everything on your own, love. Compared to your past life, your life as Sela stretches across thousands of years. I could never summarize something of that magnitude and do it justice.’

‘Thousands of years?’ I echo in awe.

‘Soon you’ll know the entire truth. And then you’ll be able to act accordingly.’

‘You said I need to get the necklace first. That will give me back my memories, no?’

He nods.

‘That necklace holds all the secrets. Not only to your memories, but also to your true powers.’

According to Amon, the necklace only recognizes me as its master and as such I do not need to ask for permission to use its powers. Anyone can take it, but to use it, the necklace needs to be freely given, just as Abel had asked me for verbal consent when he’d demanded it in the church.

‘I touched the stone once, and I had a flash of us in Ancient Rome. It was brief, but I didn’t have the birthmark there.’

Amon stiffens against me.

‘You didn’t,’ he confirms.

‘You’re not going to tell me why, are you?’

I draw back to look at him.

He purses his lips, a sad smile on his lips as he shakes his head.

‘The only thing I can tell you is that I am not a demon, nor are you one. They called me as such because it was the only thing they could use to instill fear in people. Regular people knew the biblical tales and they feared the devil and his army of demons. When the Holy See became aware of our existence, the entire Church was terrified of the ramifications. At first, they tried to use us, but when it didn’t suit them anymore, we became the foe. Kress and Finn helped in large part, playing on people’s beliefs in order to turn them against us. At the end of the day, we were the other—something they couldn’t understand nor make sense of.’

‘Kress and Finn. They are the same as us, aren’t they?’

Amon nods.

‘It’s my fault. They were always after me since I am a liability to everyone if I’m not dead. They’ve been following us for centuries.’

‘Why?’  I whisper.

He merely smiles, and I realize I’m not likely to get anything out of him.

‘When you see the past, you will know everything. I never had any secrets from you. You know my entire history, who I am, what I am, and why we’ve been on the run for so long, love.’

Biting my lip, I regard him for the longest time before I tip my head in a hesitant nod.

I am curious about everything, but if Amon says I need to remember by myself, then I will trust him.

More than anything, I trust Lydia and the fact that she’s looking out for us—even from the grave. She’d certainly arranged for everything to play out according to her vision.

‘Although, while we’re at it, I might as well confess something else,’ he murmurs softly, and I could swear I note a blush on his cheeks.

‘What?’

‘Mr. Meow,’ he clears his throat.

My eyes widen in fear.

‘What happened to Mr. Meow? Is he ok? I haven’t seen him around in so long,’ I burst out, panicking.

Dear Lord, but I hope nothing happened to him.

‘No, nothing happened to him.’

‘Where is he then? You know where he is, don’t you?’

‘You could…say so?’ he scratches the back of his head in discomfort.

‘Amon… What is it?’

He’s really scaring me at this point.

‘Well, you’re looking at him,’ he winces as he says it, averting his gaze.

My mouth opens and closes as I stare at him.

‘Can you repeat that? You’re a cat?’

‘Darcy darlin’,’ he laughs at my scandalized expression. ‘No, I am not a cat. But I have, at times, inserted my consciousness into one.’

‘I don’t…’ I trail off as it dawns on me.

He was Mr. Meow. That’s why the cat was so damn smart, because it was actually Amon.

‘I took you in my bath,’ I accuse, pointing a finger at him. ‘I slept with you!’

‘You also gave me dead rats to eat,’ he mumbles dryly. ‘Which, by the way, are not at all tasty.’

‘But you ate them anyway,’ I raise a brow as I cross my arms over my chest.

‘Of course I did,’ he says in indignation. ‘It was that or you’d be sad.’

I blink.

‘And I didn’t want you to be sad,’ he grumbles.

‘Amon…’

My gaze softens as I look at him.

‘I needed to be by your side somehow. Even when I was down here and couldn’t get out. I needed a way to be with you,’ he adds vehemently, as if he’s trying to explain himself for fear I would be upset.

‘Amon, I’m not mad. Maybe surprised, I guess. But how could I ever be mad that you’d go through so much trouble to be with me? If anything, I’m extremely flattered,’ I admit.

‘You’re sure you’re not mad?’ He repeats, his eyes wide and wary.

I give him a brisk nod.

His arms shoot out as he brings me to his chest, his lips on my temple as he gives me one loud smooch after another.

‘Is there anything else you want to tell me?’ I chuckle.

‘No, I promise.’

‘Good, now maybe we can go over our plan of action? We have ten days until the coven will perform the spell. That means I need to get the necklace back as soon as possible.’

He grunts, suddenly serious.

‘You need to be careful with Abel. Though he has access to your powers, it’s limited. You’re the only one who can fully master the necklace. For anyone else it would be one percent of its actual power.’

‘Rhiannon said he’s weakening. Since my birth…’

‘Yes. It’s exactly as you think. The jewel recognizes you as its rightful owner, and since you came back into the world, it stopped working as well for Abel. That isn’t to say he hasn’t learned a trick or two. He can summon those odious creatures and they can help him in a fight. The only bright side is that it requires him days to do a summoning ritual, which means we need to plan for a quick intervention.’

‘He never goes anywhere without his cane,’ I mention. ‘Aside from that one instance when I was visiting,’ I frown. ‘There was a disturbance upstairs and he left it unattended.’

‘Upstairs you say?’ He inquires, deep in thought.

‘Why? What are you thinking of?’

‘I was with you at his house last time if you remember,’ he adds and I nod.

Mr. Meow had suddenly joined me on the way. Now, I see it as his way of taking care of me.

‘I was looking through his house while you two talked. And when he was called upstairs, I went with him.’

‘And?’

‘I couldn’t go inside. There’s a room on the second floor, at the very end of the hallway, that has a strong barrier spell around it. In Mr. Meow’s body, it was too much for me.’

‘What do you think he’s hiding there?’

‘Something important enough for him to leave his cane unattended.’

I nod slowly.

‘You think if I manage to get there I might stand a chance against him?’

‘I don’t know,’ he takes a deep breath. ‘Honestly, I’m afraid of what he’s capable of either way. Even if I go out, I won’t be at full capacity to help too much,’ he sighs dejectedly.

‘You’re not coming,’ I suddenly tell him.

‘Of course I’m coming.’

‘Amon, you said only if I’m in danger.’

‘And this constitutes the worst danger, Darcy. I’m coming and there’s absolutely no room for discussion.’

‘But… You… You’ll be hurt for it, you silly beast!’ I cry out in frustration. ‘I won’t have you hurt on my account. I’ll figure something out to tackle Abel.’

‘No,’ he shakes his head, crossing his arms and telling me it’s final. ‘He’s my son, too. I need to be there for it.’

Well, when he puts it like that…

‘But you’ll get hurt,’ I make another feeble attempt at countering his arguments.

‘And you’ll give me more of your blood, won’t you?’ he murmurs softly. ‘And more of your sweet pussy,’ he continues as he licks my cheek.

‘You’re not playing fair,’ I stammer, the heat of his body making me forget my thoughts.

‘Say yes,’ he continues as he takes my lower lip between his teeth, nibbling softly at it. ‘Say yes, darlin’.’

‘Fine,’ I sigh. ‘Now kiss me properly.’

‘Much obliged,’ he chuckles.

Then his lips are on mine.

Properly this time.

And as I melt in his arms, I truly hope this is the right decision.

Because when he hurts, I hurt more.