Chapter 28 Lucan
On the peak of the tallest mountain, where I can overlook the entirety of what used to be Veradel, I come to a halt at the same time that Saskia’s breathing does.
Up here, the air nips at my skin, but the frigidity taking root in my bones doesn’t come from the elevation. Something hasn’t felt right about the Chosen Ones—and what happens to them—this entire time.
Back in the ghost town, I grew up hearing stories from the elders who survived the war. Rumors and superstitions. Pure guesswork that boils down to two impossible options: either the Chosen Ones die, or they turn into vampires themselves.
Well, obviously the first one isn’t exactly true. If the Chosen Ones died immediately, the people of Xantera would have risen up sooner than now, revolting in the face of true, random sacrifice. The balconies give them false hope—and planted evidence—that all is well.
But now we know the Chosen Ones don’t turn into vampires, either. They seem to react strongly to the Guardians’ bites, yes, but nothing that doesn’t end up fading. Almost like a drug that has to circulate their system before their bodies metabolize it.
The thought has my vision flashing with red. If anything’s going to get Saskia high and giggly, I’d rather it be my cock driving her out of her damn mind, orgasm after orgasm, but…
Focus, Lucan, for fuck’s sake.
I hone my focus downward, spearing the Blood Moon Palace with my eyes as if I can see Saskia through the walls.
Through our connection, I can feel that she’s trembling as she stares at the Chosen One in bed, and frankly, I am, too.
Because I have a feeling that vampire venom isn’t just degrading their bodies until they pass away in their sleep.
I just wish I could wrap Saskia up and keep her blissfully unaware of her reality until I find a way to get to her.
But that isn’t right either.
Although a part of me wants to shield her from the horrors of the world she knows nothing about, she deserves to know what the vampires she thought she could trust are doing.
She deserves to know what happened to her mother, what’s going to happen to her now that those fangs pierced her skin and flooded her veins with venom.
And she isn’t weak. Despite being molded since birth to cower, to suppress herself, to fall in line—she wants to fight.
Or no. More precisely, she wants to heal—heal others physically, yes, but also hearts and minds and broken spirits.
But this? The way this woman’s haunting eyes track her as she approaches? I don’t think Saskia can heal whatever the fuck she’s about to discover.