Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 42637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 213(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 213(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
The vision shifted to the castle pits, damp and stinking, Raducel’s life in my hands as I took from him what he’d taken from me. I remembered the sound of his last breath and the way my rage had consumed every shred of mercy. His betrayal was carved into me. And now here he was again, a different man, different life, but the same face and cruelty in his blood.
His taste was foul, rank with fear, and raw and bitter from the liquor. Despite that, I took it all. I wrung him dry because blood was blood, and it was power. His frantic heartbeat slowed, faltered, then stuttered.
Laszlo’s pulse struggled beneath my fangs, his lifeblood spilling into me like poisoned wine. With it came a torrent of his memories, fragmented visions crashing into my mind. Faces of countless women, broken beneath his cruelty. Their cries tangled with his hunger and endless need to dominate. They morphed and swirled with what Raducel had been. One in the same.
My fury burned through centuries as I drained, erased, and ended him a second time.
Each image seared into me, branding themselves inside of me, until I felt as though I bore the weight of every wound he had ever inflicted. The vileness of his life flooded my veins. No part of him would ever touch this world again.
His lungs wheezed uselessly, and his hands slackened at his sides. When at last I tore free, I stared at the gaping wound. My chin and throat dripped red, my breathing was ragged, and for a prolonged moment, the dark creature in me was sated but not softened.
He stared at me with lifeless eyes. I let go of him and stepped back, and his body sagged, collapsing onto the cobblestone. I stood over him a moment longer, listening to the silence his death left behind. Then, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and left him there for the rats and the rot.
When I returned to the castle, I bathed at once. I wouldn’t let her see the gore. Clara still slept, curled in the bed, the blankets tangled around her. Her dark hair spilled across the pillow, her lips parted softly. She was the picture of innocence… everything I wasn’t.
I slid in beside her, and she stirred, lashes fluttering as she whispered, “Ivan.”
“I’m here, baby.”
She nuzzled her face against my chest. Her voice was hushed and drowsy when she asked, “Where were you?”
I cupped her face, forcing her to meet my gaze. “I took care of it. I took care of him.”
Confusion and dawning fear tangled together in her expression. “I overheard what you told your grandmother,” I continued, my voice low. “And when he drew near, I scented his vileness festering off of him. He had a darkness, yes, but not like mine. I used mine on those who deserved it, men evil and depraved and who betrayed me. His was pure filth.” I drew in a slow breath. “When I fed, I saw the truth about him. The women he hurt. And behind it, the shadow of a betrayal centuries old. He was nothing but a disease… then, and now.” My thumb brushed her cheek as I held her steady. “Laszlo will never hurt you or anyone else ever again.”
Her breath trembled. “Oh my God,” she whispered, horror lacing her voice as she woke fully and pushed herself up. “I had no idea.” Tears welled in her eyes, and her sympathy for those who had been previously hurt filled the room with the scent of incoming rain.
“I’ll destroy anyone who dares lay a hand on you,” I said, my voice low, edged with something feral. “I’ll do it again without hesitation.”
Her lips parted but no words came. She only lay back down and pressed closer, as if she already understood. I sensed her concern, the empathy for those other women, and the shock still lingering, yet beneath it a quiet acceptance. She knew, as I did, that Laszlo was pure evil, devoid of anything human.
I held her tighter.
This was not simply love. She owned every part of me, and I would burn the world before I ever let her go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
IVAN
The days blurred into one another, a cocoon of stolen nights of intense pleasure, and where nothing existed beyond the two of us.
But I knew Clara had others she cared for, family from this lifetime, and I didn’t want her to miss out on anything simply because I was selfish and wanted to keep her all for myself.
As the days turned into weeks, Clara spoke to her family daily. And now the time had come for them to make the trip and visit. Clara’s family was due to arrive shortly and with them came the reminders of the life she had set aside. She’d already contacted the gallery and taken a brief hiatus but planned on going back the following week. To her relief, they’d been very understanding.