Forever in Darkness (novella) (Order of the Blade #4)

Forever in Darkness (novella) (Order of the Blade #4) by Stephanie Rowe

Book: Forever in Darkness (novella) (Order of the Blade #4) by Stephanie Rowe Read Free Book Online
Authors: Stephanie Rowe
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a miracle.
    Then the bike hit a bump in the
road, Alice gasped at the burst of pain, and suddenly Flynn didn't matter.
    He'd already killed her.
    No! Ian's enraged voice
filled her mind
    Alice looked up in shock at the man
holding her so tightly against his chest, startled by the sound of Ian's voice
in her head. You can hear my thoughts?
    I can. His eyebrows shot up
in sudden surprise as he realized what he'd just said. Shit, I can! That's
good, Catherine. That's a good sign, because that kind of connection can only
happen if you're my sheva . Is there a mark on your arm?
    Alice glanced at her skin, and
there was still nothing. Disappointment flooded her. "No."
    Crap! He wasn't looking at
her. He was watching the road, his jaw flexed, his eyes scanning their
surroundings for threat, for safety, for what? The wind was whipping through
his hair, making it rage wildly around his head as he sped down the street. You
stay alive, Catherine. Do you understand? For five minutes, and then I'll take
over. Got it?
    Alice closed her eyes as a wave of
weakness washed over her. Yeah, sure, no problem. But even as she said
the words, she felt another hit of pain. You think you can keep me alive?
Really?
    Ian's grip tightened around her. Hell,
yeah. Just watch. You'll be so damned impressed you'll want to jump me. I'm
that good.
    A snort of laughter bubbled up
inside her, a reaction so incongruous to her situation and her life that Alice
almost didn’t even recognize it. Ian had made her laugh?
    That alone was almost worth dying
for.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Ian gripped Catherine more tightly,
his adrenaline raging as he felt the depths of her pain. She had no emotional
shields from him, and he could feel everything she was feeling. Right now, the
physical pain and her terror of death was so intense he could barely
concentrate on the road. How could he feel her pain so intensely, but not be
able to get past that shield inside her or get his brand to appear on her arm? Something
was wrong, seriously screwed up, and he had to solve it fast. We're almost
there. Stay with me.
    He gunned the engine, knowing where
he had to take her, knowing that there was only one place nearby that would
have the energies to support what he needed to do…what he should not be able to
do without his mark on her skin.
    Keeping his arm anchored around
her, even though she was hanging onto him with surprising strength, Ian forced
her to lean into the turn with him, surprised once again by her acquiescence,
her absolute willingness to accept his direction and take his lead. Without her
participation, if she tried to resist, he wouldn't be able to save her.
    Panic hit him at the idea of losing
her, and he immediately shoved it aside. This was his world now, not the curse,
and he owned who he was. He was not going to let her die. Not this time. Fuck
the brand. She was his sheva , and he didn’t need a damned mark to know
it.
    A break in the woods appeared on
his right, and Ian whipped the bike onto the dirt path, speeding through the trees.
He hunched low over the handlebars, using his body to protect Catherine as the
branches whipped past them, slicing at his face and shoulders as he raced under
them.
    He broke out of the woods within
moments, and the full moon gleamed as he sped down the rows of gravestones in
the Fitzgerald cemetery. He drove past the newly upturned earth and the shovel
he'd left behind and turned to the left, weaving between headstones as he made
his way toward the one grave with the power he needed.
    Ian. Catherine's voice was
laced with pain and fear. I could use a little help here. You're not really delivering
on your promise to save my life.
    Ian chuckled at her irritated tone,
so incongruous for the level of agony she was enduring. You're so demanding,
sweetheart. No wonder the boys like to kill you.
    You're an ass.
    I can be. He reached his
goal, and the bike skidded to a stop in front of the oldest gravestone in the
plot, a chipped piece of granite

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