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In anger, I stopped on the top stair and peered down at him. “Oh, I know. I’ve died once, I have no wish to do it a second time.”

Marel’s shoulders slumped, and as I looked at him, he seemed nothing more than a tired old man.

Inka and I stood outside my father’s villa for a good hour before we entered it. There were so many thoughts running through my head I didn’t understand how to start sorting them out.

Maurick was right. Immortality was tempting, and I felt a quiet satisfaction at owning it. Although I was confused, I wouldn’t hand it back if a cure was found.

This was mine, and I could rule the world if I chose.

Don’t get me wrong. Truthfully, I deeply regretted what had happened, and if I’d been given a choice, I would have refused this strange gift.

Now I had it, though, possibilities stretched for miles in front of me. Why should I give this up? I had been dealt a harsh blow for trying to help my people. Everyone was thinking the same as me. They had to be.

For my sacrifice, I had paid the ultimate price, the loss of my life. What more could I give to them? Now, Kaltos owed mesomething. Some reward for putting myself on the line like I had.

Who cared if they had to donate blood we needed to live? They haven’t been damned to this existence. At that moment, I decided that if Kaltons declined to help us, I would take the blood we needed. They couldn’t kill me.

As we arrived and I gazed upon the villa of my home, I had the first doubt. What if my father and family rejected me as some type of monster? I understood that D’vid’s parents would have nothing to do with him. What if mine shunned me, too? How would I cope with that?

“We’ll deal with it,” Inka said, reading my thoughts and doubts. “You’ll never know until you enter.”

Bravely, Inka walked forward through the door, pulling me with her. The villa was quiet, and as we made our way to the family room, I fancied that the shadows stared at us and whispered.

The family room was brightly lit, and everyone was present as we entered.

My father and brother were lounging on enormous cushions in front of the open fire. They remained silent, each with a glass of Shreen.A drink a little like today’s brandy.

My mother and eldest sister were doing their needlework to the left of them under a huge candelabrum. The electric lights were on, but my mother shunned them for the romance of the naked flame.

My other two sisters were lounging about reading. Mihal sat between the men, playing with a little wooden horse that I had made him a few seven-days ago. It was a picture of familial bliss, and I, the monster, didn’t belong.

I took Inka’s hand and started to withdraw. The sudden movement caught my middle sister’s eye, and she looked straight up at me.

“Jacques!” she cried, dropping her book and springing to her feet. “Mother, Father, he’s home!”

She rushed towards me, arms outstretched for a hug.

My arms closed around her in grateful love. Marin, my youngest sister, grabbed Inka and held her for a short moment and then Father was there taking Inka in his arms.

“My son, my little baby,” a husky voice whispered, and I looked at my mother standing to one side.

I let go of Uralla and opened my arms. Mother went into them without hesitation.

Oh, I can’t express how great that felt. Just to be touched by loving arms. Tears welled, and I cried unashamedly onto my mother’s shoulder.

Her own tears mixed with mine. “You are safe now,” Mother murmured. “You’re home, and we won’t let anything hurt you.”

My father kept repeating the same to Inka. For a brief moment, the pain and confusion disappeared, giving us the sensation of coming back from a long journey. Then I raised my head, and the ugly truth was brought forth again.

On my mother’s snowy white shawl were streaks of red where I had cried blood. Mother followed my stunned gaze and went quiet.

“You are my child,” she insisted, pulling me close.

My siblings nodded their agreement even as they all looked at her shawl. In that instant, I was unstoppable. We would beat this. We were a strong family, and nothing could or would hurt us.

Father held Inka when she pulled away with a little cry as she saw her own child.

She rushed to him, and now, Inka, too, cried.