Chapter Twenty-Three – Evelynn
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
EVELYNN
Tensions are high. After the meeting, Silas called Clutch and Diesel over and spoke to them quietly. Whatever he was saying looked serious from the expressions on their faces. The thing I didn’t like was that at one point, all three of them looked over at me.
I even did the dumb thing of looking behind me to make sure it was me they were staring at.
It was.
Something was going on, and whatever it was, it had to do with me.
Getting up from my seat at the table, I go in search of Lucian, but before I can make it to the entranceway, Silas steps in front of me.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“To find Lucian,” I say, going to move past him. Silas stops me again. I frown. “Silas, what is going on?” I ask.
His black eyes narrow. “It’s club business.”
“This isn’t a real biker club. You can’t quote those rules,” I argue, my hands going to my hips.
“We are, and I fucking can. We are a brotherhood, a coven, a fucking MC. You are just an ol’ lady, nothing more,” he growls back.
This man has hated me from the moment I got dragged here.
“Okay, let it out. What is your problem with me?” I sigh.
His mouth thins, like he’s holding back what he really wants to say.
I roll my eyes. “Oh, come on. In the time I’ve been here—however long it’s been—I’ve watched my friend die, I’ve been drugged, tortured, left for dead, threatened by a vampire, and knocked out by one. So, whatever you say can’t be much worse, can it?” I rant.
He arches a brow, like he’s surprised by my sudden ballsy attitude. “I don’t have a problem with you,” he murmurs.
“Okay, you had your chance.” I shrug. “Can I tell you what I think about you?”
“Okay,” he says sceptically.
“You don’t like me because you’re either jealous that I’m human and you miss it, you hate me because you’re secretly in love with Lucian, or I remind you of someone from the past that triggers you,” I say firmly, listing each one off on my fingers as I go.
I watch him closely for a reaction.
Nothing. The guy is a statue.
“Mostly, I think you need to relax more. I mean, you are the undead. Live a little. Do what you want.”
“You done?” he asks, exhaling like I’m already exhausting him.
“No.” My voice shakes, but I don’t stop. “And I won’t be until you tell me why you hate me. For a second, I thought you didn’t. Then I saw the way you look at me, like I’m something rotting.” I swallow hard. “I may be mortal to you, but I’m not made of glass. Just say it.”
My irritation bleeds into desperation. He’s Lucian’s right hand. I’m not leaving Lucian. This is my life now, and I refuse to live it under silent contempt.
Silas drags a hand down his face. “You really want to know?” His laugh is empty.
Broken. “Fine.” He steps closer. “I hate you because you brought a world of shit straight to our doorstep, and you’re too fucking blind to see it.
I wish we never found you that night. Our lives would’ve been simpler if you’d died right alongside your friend. ”
The words land like a fist to the ribs. My breath stutters.
“I didn’t ask for any of this,” I whisper. “Seraphine. I didn’t know. I—”
He cuts me off with a bitter laugh. “Of course you didn’t.
She’s not even the real problem.” His eyes burn.
“The Anathema are on our trail now. They never were before, but suddenly there’s a mortal girl raised by nuns, hidden, protected, reserved just for Lucian, and now they’re circling us like vultures.
And you know what that means?” He leans in. “Eradication.”
My stomach twists.
“They don’t hunt,” he continues quietly.
“They destroy.” He exhales sharply. “Then Lucian goes and marks you. No vampire marks a human. Ever. But of course he does. Because whatever twisted, catastrophic force tied you two together made him obsessed with you. Any other night, any other woman, he wouldn’t have spared a second glance. ”
That one doesn’t just hit.
It cuts straight through my chest.
I fold inward, wrapping my arms around myself like I can hold my heart together, like I can protect myself from the poison pouring out of him.
“But even if I could forgive all of that,” Silas says, his voice cracking despite himself. “I still fucking hate you.” He swallows. “I hate you because he marked you and won’t even change you.”
His eyes are wet now, as fury and grief pours from him.
“So, when you die, he dies.”
The room tilts.
“Do you understand that?” he snarls. “Because of you, I’m going to lose my oldest friend. My brother. The man who’s stood beside me for hundreds of years.” His voice drops to something raw. “All because of you.”
I can’t argue. He’s right. If I die, Lucian dies. I’ve been selfish, too wrapped up in the now.
The realisation fractures something inside me. My heart caves in on itself as tears burn behind my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice barely there. “I didn’t mean to. I’m so, so sorry.”
And for the first time, the weight of loving Lucian feels heavier than the fear of dying.
“Leave us.” Lucian’s voice slices through the room, sharpened with murder.
Silas turns slowly to face him. “Lucian,” he breathes, his name falling from his lips, heavy with pain and regret.
I just stand there, staring at the man—no, the vampire—who marked me, knowing it would cost him his life.
“I said get. The. Fuck. Out.” Lucian’s words are soaked in violence.
Silas hesitates, then looks at me. His eyes soften for just a second before he turns and leaves.
“Lucian, don’t be mad at him,” I rasp, my throat burning. “He’s right.”
The door closes, and Lucian moves. In one step, he’s in front of me, his presence crushing the air from my lungs.
“If I die,” I whisper, my voice breaking, “you die.”
The words hit like they’re new. Like I haven’t already been gutted by them.
“You knew this,” Lucian says quietly.
I shake my head. “No. I didn’t think about what it would steal from you. How it would take you from everyone. From everything.” My gaze drops to my trembling hands. “You didn’t even choose me. I didn’t choose you.” My voice caves in. “This…” I gesture weakly between us. “Is it even real?”
“Don’t.” His voice snaps, raw and shaking. “Don’t even think that.” He grabs my hand and presses it to his chest. “Everything I feel for you is real.”
“If Silas is right,” I whisper, barely breathing, “then how do you know? What if everything we feel was forced on us? Whatever did this to us, what if none of it is ours?”
“What Sister Mary Joan said doesn’t change how I feel.”
My heart stutters, and the blood drains from my face.
Sister Mary Joan.
My hand flies to my mouth. The room tilts. Memories slam into me; bedtime stories, whispered prayers, candlelight shadows on stone walls.
I stagger back. Lucian steps forward instantly, fear flooding his eyes.
“Evelynn,” he says softly. “You’re scaring me. What is it?”
“You never said Sister Mary Joan,” I breathe. I swallow. “You know her.”
“The dark-haired king of darkness,” I say, my voice sounding distant and hollow. “The stories she told me when I was little. Every night. About a dark-haired king hiding from evil. Hiding from a world that hunted him.” My chest tightens so much I can barely breathe. “How did I not see it?”
“Me?” Lucian whispers. His voice fractures.
I nod. “Eyes so bright they see into your soul.” Tears spill freely now.
“Strong. Powerful. Always fighting.” The memories flood through me like something breaking open.
“He fights for his queen,” I sob. “He protects her no matter the cost. And sacrifice…” My knees weaken.
“Sacrifice is his only salvation.” The words come out shattered.
Lucian shakes his head slowly, devastation carving into his face.
And in that moment, I understand.
This was never a love story.
It was a prophecy.
And I am the ending.