Chapter Twenty-Nine – Lucian
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
LUCIAN
The pain is unbearable. It rips through me, splitting me open from the inside, like my body is being torn apart and rewritten all at once.
Voices chant wrong words, ancient syllables scraping against my skull.
My skin ignites. The marks carved into my flesh—my living scripture—blaze white-hot, burning so bright they tear holes in the night sky. I scream, but the thunder swallows it.
I squeeze my eyes shut, clinging to the only thing anchoring me: her.
I think of her face. Her voice. The way she smells like rain and steel and home.
I reach for her with everything I have left.
I feel her. It’s working. I drag in a breath, and her scent fills me, floods my lungs, my veins, my soul.
My eyes snap open. She’s here. Blades raised, a warrior’s scream rips from her throat as she launches herself through the storm; pure fury and love and violence.
She comes down hard on one of the Anathema, blades crashing through it.
The pain inside me eases as the creature shrieks, a sound so high and sharp it splits the air and makes my ears bleed.
Light explodes. Black smoke coils upward into the roiling sky as the thing splits apart and dies.
I collapse onto my side, weak, shaking, clawing through the mud like an animal.
Through blurred vision, I watch her—my Evelynn, my delicate mortal—cut down the other with savage precision.
Her eyes are wild, feral. Her chest heaves as rain pours down her face like tears she hasn’t realized she’s crying yet.
“Petal,” I rasp. My voice is shredded and barely a sound.
She whips around; the moment she sees me, she breaks.
Her lips part. Her eyes fill as a sob tears out of her chest. Dropping her blades, she stumbles toward me, falling to her knees in the mud.
Her hands shake violently as she cups my face, like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go.
Then she crashes her mouth into mine; a broken, desperate kiss.
Salt, rain, blood, and grief. She sobs into me, her whole body shuddering.
I breathe her in. Her touch. Her tears are soaking my lips.
With what little strength I have left, I cling to her like she’s the last thing keeping me alive.
“You left me,” she rasps, voice cracking apart.
“You left me.” I push trembling fingers through her soaked hair, brushing it from her face.
“I’m sorry,” I choke. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“This was not the prophecy,” a deep voice says behind her.
She spins instantly, blades back in her hands, sitting in front of me with her back pressed to my chest like she’s shielding me with her own body.
I try to sit up. I fail. My body is useless, a dead weight.
I search through the smoke for my brothers.
Nothing. The darkness swallows everything.
The Anathema smiles. Needle teeth gleam wet with saliva. “I have tasted many mortals,” it croons. “But one marked by a vampire?” Its black tongue drags slowly over its teeth. “Delicious.” My undead heart lurches as Evelynn’s pulse races against my chest.
“But first,” it says softly, raising a hand, “the prophecy must be fulfilled.” Fire detonates inside me.
I roar. Before I can even scream her name, she moves so fast. Evelynn launches herself to her feet, blades flashing as she slams them into the creature.
It screams, a piercing, unholy sound, as she twists the blades home.
Rain lashes down. Thunder cracks the sky open.
She turns to me, panting, shaking, alive. She did it. She saved me.
Relief crashes through me so hard it almost makes me laugh.
I force myself up, groaning, agony tearing through my body.
Then her smile fades, her eyes widen. Slowly, dread pooling in my gut, I follow her gaze.
Lightning flashes, and I see it: bone. A razor-shaped spike protrudes from her chest. The Anathema stands behind her, wearing one last smile of victory before it collapses into the mud.
“No,” I whisper. “No, no, no…”
She crumples. I catch her, dragging her into my arms, clutching her as she falls apart against me.
Her eyes are huge, terrified. Her chest jerks as she struggles to breathe, each breath wet and wrong.
I can hear it; the blood filling her lungs, her heart stuttering, failing.
Rain pours down like the world is trying to drown us.
I brush her hair from her face, my hands frantic, useless.
“No,” I beg. “Please. You can’t leave me.
” My voice breaks. “You are my everything. I do not exist without you.” Every word rips straight out of me, torn free with every shallow breath she takes.
“I had to save you,” she wheezes, barely audible. “I will always love you.” Blood spills from her mouth.
Something inside me snaps. “Evelynn,” I roar. “Petal. You are mine. Do you understand me? You are mine.”
Her heart stutters.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then nothing.
Her eyes stay on mine as the light drains out of them, her head falling limp to the side.
A sound claws its way out of my chest; something broken, something numb.
I press my mouth to hers, sobbing, begging, refusing.
“No. I won’t let you go. I can’t.” I bite into her neck.
I don’t think. I don’t care. I feed—desperate and frantic—her blood flooding my mouth as if I can force life back into her, as if love and hunger and willpower can undo death.
“Lucian,” Silas says, a hand gripping my shoulder. “It’s too late.”
I wrench away from him. “No!” I snarl. “She cannot leave me.”
“Lucian,” Cain says softly, voice breaking. “Brother, listen. She’s gone.”
I freeze. Her body is still in my arms. Too still. Her skin—once warm, once alive—is already cooling. Her eyes, always bright with fire and amusement, stare empty and dim. I press trembling fingers to her neck, searching, begging for her pulse, my comfort. Nothing.
Cain tries to help me stand. “Let’s get you inside.”
“Get off,” I bark. I force myself upright, ignoring the agony tearing me apart, clutching her lifeless body to my chest. I carry her through the storm as rain and thunder rage overhead, the sky howling like it understands my grief, like it knows I’ve just lost everything.
Ilay her in my bed, sitting beside her, refusing to move, refusing to leave her. Her hand is clutched in mine. As I stare at her lifeless body, nothing can compare to the pain I feel right now. Not even the pain Anathema inflicted on me.
“She gave me this to give to you,” Cain states behind me.
I slowly tear my gaze from her to look at him.
His usually vibrant red eyes are dim with grief.
He holds out a small envelope. I take it from him, not saying a word as I rip it open and unfold the note.
I trace my fingers over her handwriting.
Lucian.
I couldn’t tell you in person, but in the back of the book, Sister Mary Joan wrote a note just for me, saying I’m the only one who could save you.
And I guess if you’re reading this, then it worked.
I saved you. Who would have thought this delicate little virgin mortal would save you, the big badass vampire?
I never said this, but Sister Mary Joan used to tell me: death is easy.
Watching a loved one perish is the ultimate sacrifice.
In the short time we had—somehow, being locked in this compound for... (I still don’t know how long)—you’ve given me the world. You’ve shown me a love that I never thought was possible. Just know, wherever I am now, I will be waiting for you. Waiting so we can finish our story together.
I love you, and even as I write it, that doesn’t convey everything I feel for you; my captor, my beautiful monster, my kind vampire.
Your Petal.
Xxx
P.S. Please don’t hook up with that Seraphine, because she’s a real bitch. Anyone but her.
I smile as tears sting my eyes, looking at her lying before me. I press a kiss to the note and place it on her. I hear someone enter behind me. “Leave me be.”
“Lucian… Prez.” Hex says my name like it might shatter him.
I turn, the pain in my chest is a living thing, ripping through every fibre of what’s left of me. “What?”
“I need to talk to you. Outside.” He jerks his thumb toward the hall and doesn’t wait for an answer.
I release her hand with effort, like peeling myself away from my own heart, and follow him.
Hex drags his hands through his hair, fists curling tight. “It’s my fault.”
The words hit wrong. Dangerous. “Explain,” I snarl, fury already boiling.
“I gave Lilith the antidote. To the vial you used to put her to sleep.” His voice cracks under the weight of it.
I step into his space. “You want to elaborate,” I growl, “before I tear the answer out of you?”
“She needed to be here. I didn’t know why only that Black Beauty said she had to be. And now I know.” His eyes lift to mine, guilt haunting him. “It was to save you.”
Something inside me snaps. “You woke her,” I hiss, slamming him back against the stone. My hand closes around his throat. The wall cracks beneath the impact. “If she’d stayed asleep, she’d still be alive.”
“You’d be dead,” he chokes out, my grip tightening. “All vampires would be dead.” His voice splinters. “She chose this. A mortal, she sacrificed herself for all of us.”
“I would take death,” I rasp, every word shredded and raw, “over the pain of her dying in my arms.”
“Lucian.” Silas’s voice cuts in, careful. “Step back. Before-.”
I lift Hex higher, stone groaning behind him. “I will regret nothing,” I snarl, glaring at every one of my brothers and Lilith. “Nothing but trusting any of you with her.”
Pain and rage drip from every word. Then Hex turns his head and smiles. The sight nearly sends me feral. “What the fuck are you smiling at?” I bark.
“I think,” a soft voice says behind me, amused and warm, “he’s happy to see me.”
My world stops. I release Hex and turn. She stands there, hair dark and still damp from the rain.
Her eyes are bright; too bright. Gold flecks burn within the familiar darkness.
Her lips curve into a smile, but her eyes shine with tears.
The universe holds its breath. The patch above her breast is still there, smudged and mud-stained.
Property of Lucian.
My undead heart stutters, terrified this is grief playing cruel tricks. “Petal,” I rasp, my throat closing around her name.
Her smile trembles as she steps closer; so close I can feel her heat.
My hand lifts without permission, knuckles brushing her cheek.
She’s soft, delicate, real. A tear escapes me as my lips brush hers.
She smells like herself, feels like herself, tastes like herself.
I pull back just enough to search her face. “It’s you,” I rasp.
“It’s me,” she whispers. Then, softer, deadlier: “With a slight upgrade.” She bares her fangs; something in me detonates.
I lift her, crushing her to my chest. Her legs lock around my waist like she was always meant to be there as I carry us back to my room and kick the door shut behind us.
Her hand cups my face. “Say something,” she murmurs, uncertainty flickering through her eyes.
I hold her like I’ll never let go. As I carry her into the bathroom, my gaze consuming her, devotion darker than love, deeper than blood.
“My petal,” I murmur, brushing my lips over hers. “My woman,” I vow. “My vampire.”