Bloodlust

Reckoning With Fate

— VENICE —

When I lifted my head, I found myself standing at the foot of a driveway. I traced the curve of the black cement up to a squat, single-story brick house.

I didn't know how I ended up back at my house. Or old house, I guess.

As I approached the small home, I failed to see any indication the house was currently occupied. No vehicles, decorations, or furniture.

My heart sank. Isaiah must have moved. Was he still working and living in Mount Berry?

My chest felt so heavy under the weight of its confusion and grief. I always tried to keep Macay at a distance to prevent myself from getting too attached—in case he wasn't my mate.

Even still, I felt like I'd just been stabbed in the back by my best friend. I wasn't from anti ally interested in Macay, but I still cared about him.
To him, I was essentially property. He got paid to take me home. That was so messed up.

I hoped I never saw Eleanor again. Not only had she caused all of these issues with her lies and bribery, but she also tried to kill me! The bitch was relentless.

Who had the time, money, and energy for all of that?

I guess I should have suspected that Alasdair was biased in his ultimatum. I never believed he was acting out of the goodness of his heart for me, but I didn't expect him to help coordinate something of this magnitude.

Maybe Liam told him about Maisie and this was his way of retaliating at us. I didn't know and I didn't care to find out. I hoped I never saw any of those people again.

Except for one.

My gaze drifted toward the house next door. A shadowy figure stood on the porch.

Is that—? No. Couldn't be him. He wouldn't risk being here.

Yet, the shadow's face turned to me and I found myself staring into caramel eyes. He stepped off the porch and moved toward me. I drank him in with disbelief.

"Liam?"

He looked like a gargoyle come to life. His complexion was gray, dark circles around his eyes. He had become very lean, almost wiry in consideration of his long legs and broad shoulders.

His golden eyes were bright and wild, mahogany hair long and curling in the autumn breeze. His skin, light as marble, stretched over his lithe, aristocratic features.

For a fleeting moment, I felt the race of my pulse like I had a hundred times since we met. Adrenaline coursed through me at the awe of his graceful beauty and strength.

Then I blinked and he was there, surrounding me. All around me, embracing my body. The combination of his spicy taste, bergamot and pinewood smell, and rugged feel overwhelmed me.

He consumed me completely, reducing me to a fleshy heap of smoldering desire. I snuggled into his arms, feeling safer and more content than ever.

I never wanted to leave. This felt like home.

"I can't believe you're here," I murmured. "I thought this would be the last place you'd go."