Hi readers! I took a lot longer writing this chapter than I intended, due to some major life changes (all is well, and I'm doing great so don't worry). Thank you for your patience! I'm hoping this story will wrap up with just one more chapter. I can't promise when it will be out, but I will commit to finishing it no matter how long it takes. To those who have been with me from the beginning, and those who have joined along the way, thanks for sticking with me!
Enjoy! XOXO
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Anya stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows of Tyrus' apartment. She loved how the windows took up a whole wall in his living room, opening to the magnificent view. City lights glimmered in the night, beckoning. From up here, you'd never see the city grime and the things that lay hidden in alleys. Instead, the world lay spread out, dark and beautiful, full of possibility.
Hands reached for her, wrapping around her until she felt the familiar weight of Tyrus' chin brushing against the top of her head. He was bare-chested, fresh from a shower. She leaned back against his damp skin, enjoying the feel of his hard, sculpted body against her back.
"Penny for your thoughts, love?" His deep voice rumbled gently against her back, slipping through their comfortable silence. He playfully nipped at her ear, then nuzzled his lips against her temple.
Anya couldn't help but lean back into his embrace, lulled by the still-unfamiliar feeling of contentment. She'd never known that being with someone could feel like this. She'd gotten used to keeping her distance.
For so many years, she'd been alone. Unwanted even, and bounced around foster homes more times than she'd cared to admit. She'd gone through it for so long that she'd learnt to avoid giving a part of herself to anyone, not even her exes. Lara had been the only exception, and her world had nearly fallen apart when Lara left.
She wriggled out of Tyrus' grasp and turned around to face him. He obliged her, drawing her back into him once she had turned her body. She lifted her head to meet his gaze, and he lowered his to press his lips against her own.
Everything fell away as she met his kiss. Her fingers curled into the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling him closer. She stepped off a ledge, free-falling into an infinite abyss, knowing only the feel of his hot lips and tongue and her body pressed against his. When they stopped, she opened her eyes, surprised to find herself still intact. It was like this every single time.
Tyrus looked back at her with heavy-lidded eyes and his usual sensual smile. She bit her lip when she caught the lust in his gaze. His hands slid down to cup her ass, pulling her tight against his groin. He gave her a playful grope as he rocked against her, the evidence of his desire obvious through his jeans.
"I should have said, a
kiss
for your thoughts. Or would you like me to make you an even better offer?"
He wiggled his eyebrows at her. She let out a surprised laugh. "You're insatiable! We just did it this morning... and last night."
"What can I say? I've missed having you all to myself," he replied with a wink.
As ridiculous as it was, she felt herself dampening. It didn't matter how many times they did it. She wanted him again, too. Always.
For the past week since they'd been back, Tyrus had been busy working for the Governance. He'd had to go through two more rounds of debriefs, then provide formal reports for their time at Creeksville. After that, he'd spent some time helping their squad with their investigative work. The tech team had found evidence that Morneau was working within a much larger network of rebels, but they couldn't pinpoint the leader.
It meant that trouble was brewing, and the situation was much worse than they'd originally thought. They had no idea how many other small towns like Creeksville were breeding grounds for new vampires. Every morning, Tyrus left for the office, and only came back in the evenings. With each day that passed, he looked more and more worried. Something big was coming, and likely soon.
Lara had come by most days, once she had sorted things out in her own town and moved back into the city. She split herself between working for the Governance, and taking over Tyrus' training. For four hours each day, Anya was driven to the brink of collapse as Lara explored the extent of her powers, and taught her new fighting techniques. Anya kept up her efforts, determined to gain as much ground as she could. Lara drove her hard, but Anya was starting to see the efforts pay off.
Anya also saw Sam whenever she came by to clean Tyrus' house, and the two talked as Sam worked. Anya helped with the cleaning too, despite Sam's objections that Tyrus only paid her and not Anya to do the housekeeping. They were becoming fast friends, with Sam's easy-going nature and wicked sense of humour.
At night though, she had Tyrus. They'd have dinner and talk, about everything and nothing at all. They did mundane things like watch Netflix together on his couch. When it was time for bed, they spent hours making love, until she couldn't go on any longer and fell asleep, thoroughly sated.
"So? Are you going to tell me what's running through that pretty head of yours?" Tyrus prompted, his fingers toying absently with the hem of the short sundress she'd chosen to wear today.
"It's nothing... it's just, I'm happy," she murmured.
She reached for another kiss, knowing that each time, her heart was becoming less and less her own. As afraid as she was to let her feelings for Tyrus grow, she couldn't help it. It was obvious that Tyrus was way out of her league, and she was greedily sucking up every bit of him that she could get, before he too realised it.
A part of her, the part that fought to keep her heart intact, wondered what would happen when she grew old, and he stayed young and immortal. Would he tire of her then? There certainly was no shortage of beautiful women in the supernatural world. How could she expect him to keep his interest in her? She knew the answer to that. She didn't want to face it now, so she brushed the sinking feeling aside and buried herself deeper into their kiss.
Tyrus growled, meeting her with equal passion, pulling her closer, until she was nothing but a melted puddle of goo. When they finally pulled apart, his eyes glowed amber.
"You know," he said after a pause, "your mark is fading again."
"Already?" She asked. She'd taken his blood again when they'd gotten back to the city. That had resulted in quite a bit of action over the following couple of days.
"It's been five days since the last time. My mark on you seems to fade pretty quickly, perhaps because of your heritage." He looked at her, hesitating.
She stood still, giving him time to work up to what he wanted to say.
"We're leaving for your father's ball tomorrow. We need to make sure your mark is strong, so nobody will question who you are. As much as I hate it, they need to think you're my slave."
Anya swallowed nervously. She was meeting her father soon. She had no idea what to expect, or how he'd react to Tyrus claiming his only daughter. Not to mention the fact that he had gone through so much effort to keep Anya hidden and protected, only to have Tyrus bring her into this world in the end. She knew Tyrus was worried about it too. They'd discussed it a couple of times.
Lara had reassured them that she'd brought King Primakov up to date with everything, including how Tyrus had saved Anya's life in Le Bastille. She might have ended up dead if she'd never met Tyrus. Besides, being a 'slave' allowed her to finally meet her father, without raising suspicion of any link between Anya and her the vampire king.
However, Anya couldn't help but wonder if her father could really forgive Tyrus for his actions. Somehow, she didn't think the vampire world held a lot of mercy.