Chapter 8 #2
Dove and the archer exchange vicious grins. Freya points at a second ruby dragon, which is heading straight for her.
I glance over the village that has become a battlefield.
This should have been my first night with my new nest mates. But now, it’s clear that I can’t win this fight.
I clench my jaw before patting Devil’s flank. “One final journey together, my dear friend.”
Devil roars her agreement, before turning back the way that we have come. Then she gallops into the sand dunes through the glowing shrines to my ancestors, which smell like me of intoxicating incense, to draw the attacks away from White Lotus and my mates.
If the dragons mean this ambush to kill anyone in this attack, then let it be me.
I have been ready and welcoming of death from the moment that the High Priestess caught me in her web of ribbons and my twin, the other half of my soul, was torn away from me.
If it finds me tonight, then at least my soul will finally join the other shades of my family here in the ancestral shadows.
I won’t endure any more pain. Someone else can become this kingdom’s sacrifice.
Tonight, I am Freya and Dove’s.
I find myself smiling as I glance over my shoulder at the brutal warlord dragons who have raided my lands for years.
Let them think that they have finally cornered the Shadow Vampire King.
Let them drive me into the desert to die.
Yet have they never seen how fierce a rat is when cornered?
I falter, however, when I realize that none of the dragons have broken formation to follow me.
By the Void, do they wish to destroy my heart, before they destroy the rest of me?
To desecrate the place of the dead, as well as the living?
Rage surges through me.
A giant dragon swipes with its claws at the chariot, despite the sea of arrows from the Dragon Smiter, breaking the reins on the horses.
The horses rear up in terror and gallop away into the dark.
The chariot tips onto its side, crushing its riders with a terrible screech of splintering wood.
The remaining soldiers snarl, bravely holding their position around my mates. The ex-sergeant slashes the dragon’s tail with his curved sword.
The dragon rears back, however, blasting them to ash.
In a moment, my only fighters are wiped out.
I am left alone under the moon with civilians, an Omega, and a fae pet.
Hollow, I shake.
Could Aurelius truly do this to Freya? Any Alpha who harms their own Omega deserves death.
In fact, I have made it law.
I gasp, when Atticus drops from the sky above my Omega.
Immediately, the fae pushes Freya behind him. He splays his wings wide, as if to make himself look more intimidating.
Instead, Dove looks more like an angel who has fallen into hell.
He has balls, I admit.
Who is he, truly?
Dove’s ravens circle him, cawing furiously.
My stomach twists.
In the distance, the remaining dragons are now ranked around the pyramid. Then, as if at a command, they target their fire at the four limestone sides.
I ordered my people to hide inside the tomb. I promised that they would be safe.
And now, they will be burned alive because of me.
The spirits of my ancestors — all I have left of my family and royal line — will be gone.
I will be truly alone.
“No,” I whisper.
I don’t have time to protect…save…both my mates and the tomb.
How can I choose?
How can I…?
It’s not a choice.
I launch myself off Devil’s back, transforming into smoke and appearing in front of my nest mates.
I scan them.
Freya is shaking. Her chin is grazed, probably from the tumble off Shadow’s back. She is coated with dust, sand, and ash.
The ash of my people is clinging to her skin, as if it is the courting gift that I promised her.
I feel sick.
Dove’s feathers and hair are equally as dusted with ash.
“Lanlin…” Freya reaches for my arm, but I dodge away from her touch.
All my focus is on the dragon above us.
Atticus’ eyes glow with satisfaction.
Suddenly, a crash resounds through the desert night like a death knell.
I swivel in shock.
The lotus pyramid has collapsed under the wall of flame, burning like a shrine candle.
Stone dust rises around me, shrouding us from Atticus.
Freya and Dove collapse to the floor, choking.
I stand in shock.
Inside, I am screaming.
Am I screaming out loud?
All those souls…dead and alive.
I have condemned them — the Turned.
My wards.
Their blood is on my hands.
More blood.
I stare at my iron-tipped gloves, and all I can imagine is them glistening with the scarlet of every death that I have caused.
They will haunt me forever now: Mother, Father, brothers, sisters…thousands of shades.
They will never be at peace again. I won’t.
Freak. Beast. Monster.
…You are death. The only Shadow Vampire with The Power: animalism. You’re a little monster but you will become my monster….
I sink my claws into my head like I can stop Nebet’s voice. But I can’t.
I never can.
I am the monster king who should have been executed at birth.
Nebet was born into a family who hunted my kind, and I am not meant to seek bonds or I will bring death to others.
And I just have.
Finally, my knees buckle, and I do scream.
I rake at my face, wishing that I could be anyone else in the realms but me. Rivers of blood run down my cheeks, but I need the pain.
It is better than looking at the pyramid.
It is better than the truth.
Bat-winged little monster who was born to bathe in blood.
Freya and Daire are pulling on my arms like they truly are concerned that I am hurting myself.
At last, I still.
On my heart, I have tried so hard to hide the monster king from my new Omega. But my cold gaze settles on Atticus.
Fuck that.
Tonight, everybody dies.
I hurl myself into the air, closing my eyes and allowing the fury of The Power to flow through my blood.
Feral with anger and grief, I transform into a giant bat with wine-red eyes. My wings are nothing but shadows.
I am larger than the dragons.
I am the night.
I am vengeance.
Atticus rears back in shock but not fast enough. I latch my claws into his sides and hold him still, shaking his rider off him, before I sink my fangs into his neck and tear out his throat.
I thrill at the gush of warm, coppery blood.
I hurl Atticus down into the desert to become pale boned carrion.
Then I tear out another throat in a savage frenzy, again, and again, and again.
I feast on the dragons, who flee before me as terrified prey. I lose myself to the blood lust, swooping under the sharp stars, to capture each one.
I am cold death.
I am blood.
I am the monster these dragons should have feared provoking to come out to play.
I fade into smoke, appearing behind one dragon, before yanking her rider off and hurling him into the flames of the tomb. Then I pluck off the dragon’s wing, as if it’s as delicate as a moth’s, and send it to join its mate on the fiery pyre.
Another torn throat, ripped wing, and screaming rider.
I hiss and chatter.
Scent of burning flesh.
Taste of blood.
Dead, enemies all dead.
By the Shadow Gods, everybody is dead.
I circle the leveled, smoldering village, the victor of nothing but shadowed death.
I spy the only two people remaining alive, who are huddled beside the twin demonic lions.
My fated mates.
Members of my royal vampire nest.
Through my feral mind, the thought hits me hard: They’re scared of me.
Everyone is always scared of me.
I drop toward them, as finally the effort of the battle and holding such an extreme form finally drains me.
I shift back into my normal form, falling onto my back in the middle of the blackened village. My cheek is smeared with ash.
Freya and Dove crouch over me, but through my exhausted eyes, they are reduced to blurred shades.
Maybe they were never real.
The peace wasn’t.
Could it ever have been with someone like me?
Now that they’ve witnessed who I truly am beneath my polite mask, crown, and pretty clothes, will Daire and Freya wish to be close to me?
Anyway, the peace treaty has been broken. How will I persuade the Blood Court to accept my nest mates? What’s the point when my mates will only reject me?
I struggle to sit up, but a wave of deep exhaustion and pain washes over me.
My eyes roll back, my vision grays, and I slump to the ground.
I take a final, rasping breath.
My cheek is crushing a lotus flower, and its sweetness mocks me, as I fall into the black.