Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
Mikael
A weightless void cradles me, silent and absent of light. Only my consciousness remains.
There is no sense of time or place.
It’s familiar, memories surfacing of when I was turned into a vampire. Death tried to take me then, but an anchor kept me from passing over.
Yet, this is different.
Something deep within, rooted in my soul and tied to my physical form, is holding on.
The darkness swirls, the black shifting into shades of purple, then blues, greens, yellows, oranges, and reds. The spectrum of colors evokes corresponding emotions as they flash through my mind.
They explode into a searing white light.
My eyes jolt open to a cloudy sky, painted in hues of pink and coral, and my lungs suck in a desperate breath. The world comes crashing back in, but I can’t feel anything, my body not yet responding to being alive.
I died.
I shudder at the memory of being stabbed through the chest with a wooden stake. The other vampire had missed my heart, wanting Bryn to suffer as I slowly bled out. A mortal wound, one that would not have normally ended me.
But here in the Wastelands, it did.
Why am I alive? Am I? Or is this another trick of the curse, another part of the trial, because what I see above me is not the same place where I took my last breath.
I drop my head to the side, and immediately my brows narrow in confusion at what’s in the distance.
Blades of grass poke through ground that is no longer sandy. It’s become soil again, heavy with moisture and life. Tree branches, once barren, have buds and leaves sprouting from them.
Scattered throughout the new growth are poppies dancing in the breeze.
And then I feel it.
Dread pools in my stomach—a heaviness draped across my body. A tingling pinprick spreads outward from the weight and into my extremities as my body awakens.
Where is Bryn?
My eyes dart around, scoping out the rest of my surroundings, and pause on the black spot she approached.
It was like Bryn was in a trance as she slowly walked to the edge, and that’s when I was stabbed.
I was so focused on her, so unused to my vampire senses not being present, that it was too late for me to do anything.
It’s now a rippling pool of water the size of a large pond, and from its edges spread still more grass and clusters of poppies.
“Bryn,” I call out, but my voice is harsh, the breath in my lungs still only focused on keeping me alive.
I lift my head and find waves of golden-brown hair resting on my chest. Panic floods, holding me in a vice grip.
Fucking move! I yell at my limbs. Fucking. Move. I grit my teeth, jaw clenching so hard my teeth might break. Finally submitting to my command, my arm moves and I bring it up to Bryn’s shoulder, pressing against her body.
“Bryn…” Her name is stilted on my tongue.
I see the female vampire lying on the ground nearby, one of my swords held by her chest cavity. If Bryn killed her, then why isn’t she moving? Did Bryn kill her?
I rest my hand on her back, but her ribs don’t expand.
“Bryn!” I try again, raising my voice into a forceful call.
I brush the hair that’s fallen over her face to the side and adjust my legs and sit up. Gently maneuvering her, I roll her onto my knees—and that’s when I see it. A blade is still lodged in her chest.
In her heart.
“No!” The cracked sob echoes with such harshness that it would scare even the most vicious beasts in this land.
The face I spent hundreds of years dreaming about is stained with streaks of dirt running from her eyes, and along her cheeks. A beautiful face still, soft and delicate, no longer holding on to its torment. I remove the blade and pull her to my chest, wrapping my arms around her body.
She wasn’t supposed to die. She was alive when I died. Why am I the one alive? I grip a fistful of my hair and rock back and forth with her still pressed against me.
This cannot be my fate.
Is this my punishment for every wicked deed I did in order to get back to her? How? Why? Anger floods through me, and tears slide down my face, dripping from my chin onto her hair.
I slam my knuckles into the ground. “I failed you, Bryn. Failed to save you.”
“You did not fail.”
I startle at the voice, and flick my eyes up, searching for the source. Movement draws my attention skyward.
A beautiful woman, dressed in white silk robes that flow around her like liquid, descends from the sky.
A fucking Fate.
Her large black wings are spread wide, and a glowing gold aura encircles her frame, the contrasting colors accenting her bronze skin. She’s breathtaking, but in an ethereal and divine manner. Otherworldly. When her feet touch the ground, the wings fold behind her and disappear.
I hold Bryn tighter against my chest, not wanting anything or anyone else to take her from me. “You cannot have her.”
“I must say, I didn’t think you two would succeed. Although,” she cocks her head, looking at Bryn with pity and reverence, “she stabbed herself after you died.”
Then her eyes slide to me and her expression changes, her gaze boring into me.
“What?” I croak out, the word stuck in my throat. I run my hand over Bryn’s hair and press my lips to her head. “No… why… Bryn…” Her name comes out as a sigh, long and breathy. “I told you to live. It’s what you deserve after everything you’ve been through.”
“She didn’t want to suffer through life without you. Centuries of heartbreak was enough,” the Fate says, coming closer.
I jerk away from her and scowl, lacing my words with hate. “Why are you here? Have you come to gloat?”
She lets out a teasing chuckle, like this is all a game to her. “I’m the owner of that amulet.” She lifts a brow and points to Bryn. “The one you stole. The one she wears.”
“You,” I seethe, “cursed your own amulet?”
“Well, it was once a gift; but yes, I did.” She smiles so widely, the corners of her eyes crease, lighting up her face in an otherworldly glow. “It was eons ago, and very few have broken the curse.”
Anger rises as I process this information. “Yet you didn’t care to retrieve your cursed necklace? Do you find pleasure in watching people die?”
“I keep track of where it is and follow those who get cursed. I knew what your king was looking for, and I made sure he found it. Even encouraged him to make you do it.” She claps her hands, like a child that’s excited for a sweet.
“And yes, I thoroughly enjoy watching love fail. I’m quite intrigued by the idea of love, or what it is thought to be.
But you two have given me… What is it? Hope.
Showing me that not all love is tainted. ”
The Fate’s gaze goes distant as if she’s recalling a long-lost memory.
“Bring her back,” I demand. “You said the curse was broken.”
“I cannot do that.”
“Then what is the point of you coming here other than to gloat?” I don’t want to let Bryn go, but my drive to take this dagger and take down the Fate is roiling through my body.
“Because you two intrigued me. I wanted to see if a bonded pair could succeed. I’ve never had your kind before. You see, no one wants to sacrifice themselves in the end. But her—” She points to Bryn again. “She sacrificed everything. Not just for you, but for this land.”
The Fate opens her arms wide, twisting, showing off the revitalized Wastelands.
“She forced all her magic back into this barren and broken place because she wanted to give back what she wrongfully bargained away. Then she forfeited her life, unwilling to bear the loss of you again. I haven’t been disappointed by you two like so many before. ”
I just lost my mate after trying to save her and this Fate is prattling on. Every other noise fades and dampens but the pitch of this being.
A twinge pulls at my neck, and I roll my shoulders. “Why are you here? I’m sure you have mortals to bother and magic to steal. If I have to, I’ll force you to leave us.”
“So complicated was your love. Bonded. Betrayed. Devoted. You’re both royalty who would give up their throne for each other before ever claiming it.
You needed her, but she also needed you.
Souls are intricately linked; even without bonds, they transcend the physical plane and leave lasting impacts on another.
There is always another who needs us more than we need ourselves.
We are not better off lost to the world. I’ve been waiting for her to wake.”
Her last word is an octave higher than the others as if it is a command.
“I thought you said you couldn’t bring her back!
What game are you playing at?” I gently set Bryn down and rise, slowly sliding the remaining blade from its sheath, twisting it around in my hand.
“If you have no purpose here, then leave and never show your face in my presence again. For if you do, that will be your end.”
“You are no threat to me, vampire. Return to your mate, or she will wake without you nearby. It is not I who has brought her back. When she returned to the place of her ending and gave up her magic, the last trial was completed—the curse broke, releasing its hold on her soul. I am not privy to how the curse will manifest when someone steals the amulet, because magic cannot always be controlled. It often works in ways no one truly understands. But what excited me, a quite fascinating element, was how the curse affected your bond. She restored magic to this land, Mikael, and your bond is a source of magic.”
Every ending has a beginning.
Every beginning has an ending.
I consider her, eyes narrowing, but have no reason to doubt her. I turn back to Bryn and kneel beside her. I grab her hand, threading my fingers within hers. I hold her hand against my chest, my beating heart.
Suddenly, Bryn sits up and I jerk back, narrowly missing a blow to my chin. She sucks in breath after breath, her eyes wild as her head swivels, looking at the landscape beyond us.
Bryn’s gaze snaps to me, her expression raw with emotion as she searches my face. Her chest heaves, and she starts shaking. I pull her into me and hold her head against my chest, rubbing my hand up and down her back.
“I’m here. I’m here," I say softly. “This is real. We did it.”
Through whimpering sobs she cries, “It’s burning.”