Page 136
Story: Wanted
All I’ve ever wanted is tolive.
My heart slows to the point that everything in front of my eyes becomes fuzzy and I can barely take a breath.
Finally, he pulls away from neck and rips his own fangs across his wrist.
Pressing his wrist against my mouth, he orders me to, “Suck.”
So weak I can’t resist him, I suck on his wrist and swallow his blood.
And the last thing I think before I seize up in pain and everything goes black is…
I’ll pay him back for this.
THIRTEEN
RAPHAEL
I’ll pay him back for this.
Those words haunt me the moment she slumps in my arms.
Cradling Alena as my feet touch the floor, fear wants to tear through me.
She’s dead, and there’s no way to touch the bond.
I can only feel that her body is turning, but not what her mind is going through.
As far as I know, no soulmarked woman has ever told us what happens during the time between death and rebirth. If they even remember it.
When Asher turned Chloe, it took days for Chloe to awaken.
Every vampire’s greatest fear is that his marked will come back with hatred for him. Hatred for an eternity.
I had to turn her. It was the only way to keep her safe.
That fucking monster the Order has working for them was trying to take her. To what end, I don’t know, but his intentions were far from fucking good.
Stopping myself from staring at Alena’s face, I can’t help that my eyes want to drink in every tiny part of her features. She’s beautiful beyond words.
Frighteningly so.
It’s going to be far too easy to fixate on her. Fixate like a newborn vampire.
Closing my eyes, I clutch Alena closer to my chest. She weighs nothing compared to my vampiric strength. But at the same time, her weight is the weight of worlds.
If she hates me, it’s the cross I will bear.
Because her safety trumps my life.
Walking into the bathroom, I keep my eyes shut.
Turning the water on, I quickly clean her body of all the blood that’s been spilled on her. My blood and hers.
Even now the smell of the blood that prophet gave her is foul. As the blood rinses off her, so does all the filth.
Washing us both quickly under the water, I force myself not to peek at her body. Lest I get transfixed by her perfection again.
Drying her body without sight is… fun. I don’t even try to lie myself that this is purely clinical in nature. No, I’m enjoying every fucking second of it.
My heart slows to the point that everything in front of my eyes becomes fuzzy and I can barely take a breath.
Finally, he pulls away from neck and rips his own fangs across his wrist.
Pressing his wrist against my mouth, he orders me to, “Suck.”
So weak I can’t resist him, I suck on his wrist and swallow his blood.
And the last thing I think before I seize up in pain and everything goes black is…
I’ll pay him back for this.
THIRTEEN
RAPHAEL
I’ll pay him back for this.
Those words haunt me the moment she slumps in my arms.
Cradling Alena as my feet touch the floor, fear wants to tear through me.
She’s dead, and there’s no way to touch the bond.
I can only feel that her body is turning, but not what her mind is going through.
As far as I know, no soulmarked woman has ever told us what happens during the time between death and rebirth. If they even remember it.
When Asher turned Chloe, it took days for Chloe to awaken.
Every vampire’s greatest fear is that his marked will come back with hatred for him. Hatred for an eternity.
I had to turn her. It was the only way to keep her safe.
That fucking monster the Order has working for them was trying to take her. To what end, I don’t know, but his intentions were far from fucking good.
Stopping myself from staring at Alena’s face, I can’t help that my eyes want to drink in every tiny part of her features. She’s beautiful beyond words.
Frighteningly so.
It’s going to be far too easy to fixate on her. Fixate like a newborn vampire.
Closing my eyes, I clutch Alena closer to my chest. She weighs nothing compared to my vampiric strength. But at the same time, her weight is the weight of worlds.
If she hates me, it’s the cross I will bear.
Because her safety trumps my life.
Walking into the bathroom, I keep my eyes shut.
Turning the water on, I quickly clean her body of all the blood that’s been spilled on her. My blood and hers.
Even now the smell of the blood that prophet gave her is foul. As the blood rinses off her, so does all the filth.
Washing us both quickly under the water, I force myself not to peek at her body. Lest I get transfixed by her perfection again.
Drying her body without sight is… fun. I don’t even try to lie myself that this is purely clinical in nature. No, I’m enjoying every fucking second of it.
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