CHAPTER 23 #2
Nerian looks at me with an amused purse of his lips as he kneels next to my best friend, his knee pressing into Second’s throat, and he wheezes beneath the king.
“I’m going to make you watch while I kill all of your people, Veya,” he says, smiling.
“Starting with this one.” Nerian’s knee presses in harder, and Second’s gurgles stop, his face going pale.
“And then I’m going to invade your kingdom and ravage it until there’s nothing left!
” the king screams, spittle flying as he poises the tip of the stake above Second’s heart.
No!
Rage takes over, dipping into my soul and scraping something loose, something feral and foreign, brutal and unforgiving. A predator claws to the surface, and my body jerks against a blast so intense my eyes slam shut.
Like a river of gold rushing through my veins, my insides are alight with pure energy.
I feel more alive than when I was human, and power wraps around my flesh and consumes an old emptiness.
My body hones, muscles throbbing and skin tensing, just the way Kade always described his Hunter magic.
Something gods-sent embraces my spine, and my boot finds purchase on the stone as I begin to rise.
I feel like I could fight for days.
My eyes fly open.
Nerian’s devilish grin wilts watching my body warp.
I snap across the room so fast I surprise myself and the king, speed untraceable.
A Hunter’s speed.
I plunge Kade’s cream-hilted dagger into Nerian’s chest, and his shocked eyes pierce mine.
I sneer at the king as gold simmers in my veins with power so pure and poignant, my confidence blooms.
“Who the fuck are you?” Nerian demands, rage written in his eyes.
I laugh at him. “You birthed a ruthless warrior from the life you destroyed. The pain you were so eager to throw upon me two hundred years ago became the fire that forged my kingdom and takes yours from you now.”
“That doesn’t answer my question, Veya,” he sneers. “I’ve destroyed many lives over the years.”
My Hunter and vampiric strength restrains Nerian, an ancient male bowing to my magic.
Uncertainty flashes over him as he realizes his decreased odds, blood spilling down his front.
His hand darts upward, knocking my blade free, and he lunges for me, but I snap across the room, drawing him away from Second.
Nerian tosses a blade pulled from his belt across the room, and it sinks into my thigh before I can move again. I push through my agony, Hunter magic spinning and healing, threads of gold wrapping around me with the strength of the gods.
My words snarl out of me. “I will turn Goreon into everything you hate. I will destroy what you have built and ensure peace and prosperity for everyone. And death to those who don’t deserve either.
Just like you took everything I ever wanted from me.
You stole the love of my life, my future children, my brother, my father, my entire world.
” I hurl a stake at Nerian, and it pierces his shoulder.
I then grip my daggers, ready to end this.
Nerian rips the wood from his flesh, panting through his effort.
With a curling smile, I give the king exactly what he wants: “I am Grace Hull, daughter of a Master, wife of a Captain, and Heir of the Hunters.”
The Hunter no one saw coming.
Nerian’s eyes blaze with recognition, and I use everything I have left to snap as quickly as I can and force Nerian against the wall.
With all that I am, I stab Kade’s blade into his throat and mine into his chest, holding the king in place with my husband’s favorite move while I sneer into his wide eyes. “This is for Kade. For all those we have lost.”
“Abomination,” he spits through a blood-soaked cough, struggling beneath me.
I grin at Nerian. “No, my king. A new breed.”
His red eyes bulge as I twist Kade’s blade in his throat, and the words that have lived in my hopeful dreams scream out of me through my tears: “Forever may they rest, and forever may we reign!” I rip our blades from him and slice our twin daggers through his cold flesh, taking the head off the king.
It hits the ground, Nerian’s eyes wide and staring.
Centuries of planning, centuries of hoping—it’s done. It’s finally done.
The destroyed part of me who would never live again became something else, a starving beast for revenge, desperate to heal what is so fucking broken within me. Grace hardened to the warrior I have to be, and I am both now. I am good for those who deserve it and evil to those who don’t.
I am the balance embodied.
Kade gave his life so I could change the world. And I’ve honored that every day of my immortal existence.
With all that I am. Bold and brave.
A whisper floats out of me as I stare at the dead king: “Forever may we reign.”
Second limps to my side and grips my shoulder as Del groans awake behind us, eyes wide with surprise.
I spin, tears running down my cheeks and blood dripping from my blades. I toss my weapons, collapsing under emotion I can no longer hold.
Second kneels as my sobs turn into a silent scream threatening to stomp me out of existence.
The wash of pain and relief is equal in measure.
My mission has held me close to Kade, fueling me, reminding me of him and the life I loved, and now it’s like he’s leaving, whispering away.
As though his magic has been twining with mine, now, something untangles from me.
I always took the chance of dreamwalking.
Even if it was just once a year that the gods let me spend a night with Kade, it was always worth it.
The brush of his fingertips, the adoration in his sparking blue eyes, the feel of his mouth on my skin, lying in his lap while he twirled my hair with his strong hands or in a cage with our blades clashing.
It was always worth it. And I tried not to let the yearning drive me mad when I awoke alone and suffered in a despair so cruel I didn’t want to take my next breath.
We almost didn’t make it here. After the sixth consecutive dreamwalk reliving Kade’s death, I begged Second to kill me. And then I begged Charlotte when he wouldn’t. I knew I couldn’t have taken another full moon in the same memory.
But the gods gave me the gift of reprieve, and I found my way back in the arms of my husband the following month. And the cruel desperation began all over again.
The curse of the vampire.
I haven’t let myself love anyone else with unfulfilled promises and his memory still so alive. A constant ache has been my companion, and we’ve carried one another for a long time.
“It’s over,” Second comforts, his palm spread on my back. “You did it, and I’m so proud of you.”
I’m proud of us, too.
Second darts from me, escaping the sunrise from the unshuttered window beside us as light spills into Nerian’s lair.
Del, Aurelia, and Second don’t move from the shadow they stand in, frozen and staring.
And then I feel it.
Warmth streams through the window, sunshine beaming on me.
But I don’t burn. There’s no pain.
I bask in the memory of my humanity as my Hunter magic twirls and spins. A glowing warmth from within warbles the sweetest summons—the call of the Hunter cascades through me in a consuming caress.
A new breed, indeed. A vampire Huntress.
“What the fuck is happening?” Del asks, slowly dragging himself to standing. Aurelia folds into his side underneath his arm, her eyes flashing red.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, staring back at my hands in the sunshine.
He snorts at me. “We should begin your rule with honesty, Veya.”
I drag my gaze to Del, sun blinding me for the first time in two centuries, and fresh tears slide down my cheeks through a growing smile.
“Agreed, Patrick,” I say to him.
Del’s kind, piercing eyes widen at the sound of his human name.
Out of the reach of the sun, Second offers his hand and pulls me to standing, tears in his own eyes.
Relief floods me, and I look up at my Hunter brother. “This is Riot,” I tell Del, my voice quivering.
Second unleashes his toothy grin at Del, Riot’s humanity flashing into existence for the shortest moment.
I pull the chain that I always hold in my pocket.
“Thank you for everything, Riot. Thank you both, Veya,” Del says, approaching us, his sword slackened at his side, still dripping with the blood of our enemy.
Second nods, his duty encasing him again.
I clasp the Hunter crest around my neck for the first time in two hundred years.
“What is that?” Del asks.
“A piece of me.”
He smiles, and something genuine and honest settles between us. “I look forward to learning your story, Veya. All of it.”
I nod. “I’ll tell you, and I need to hear yours. And Patrick—”
Del steps into my space. “Yes, your Highness?” he asks, gaze flitting from the headless king to his new queen.
Through my tears, I offer him a soft smile and lock into his beautiful, earnest eyes. “You can call me Grace.”