Page 13 of Barely Breathing (Merely Mortal #3)

Chapter

Thirteen

I jolt awake to darkness, my heart racing before I even know why. The emergency lights pulse an angry red, each flash revealing glimpses of an institutional setting that’s all wrong. This isn’t Costin’s intimate candlelit bedroom. My limbs feel leaden, refusing to obey as I fight through a druggy haze. The phantom smell of salt water and metal hits me like a physical blow, and my stomach lurches as forgotten memories claw their way to the surface. Time is running out. I can feel it in my bones.

Dammit. Did Costin mesmerize me again? The thought sends anger coursing through me.

I push myself up, fists clenched for a fight, only to recognize my bedroom at the penthouse. The familiar space feels wrong, tainted by whatever’s trying to surface in my mind. I must have slept through the entire day.

Fuck! Precious hours wasted while Paul and Diana…

My head begins to clear, but the urgency doesn’t fade. I’m alone and can’t blame Costin for this murkiness. Something darker is at work.

I try to piece together what happened. Astrid had insisted I rest while she made calls about Diana’s safety. I came back to the bedroom and took a shower. The last thing I remember is Astrid’s tea. It is the same blend she used the night they had tried to make me sign the engagement contract with Chester. I should have known better than to drink it, but after dealing with the Freemonts and werewolves, I was too exhausted to resist. I wanted a little forgetting.

I did this to myself.

Diana.

The name hits me like a punch to the gut.

My fingers fumble for my phone, nearly knocking over the sandwich and soda someone left on my nightstand. The screen glows accusingly, showing dozens of notifications. My stomach growls like a waking monster, but the hunger feels distant compared to the dread building in my chest. I force myself to take mechanical bites of the sandwich while scrolling through messages with trembling fingers.

Multiple missed calls from Anthony and texts from unknown numbers flood my screen. One message makes my blood run cold. “The grandparents aren’t home. No sign of the girl. Trackers are out now. Hold for more details.”

My heart stops. The half-chewed sandwich tastes like dirt in my mouth. We’re too late.

How the hell could I sleep with this going on? The guilt crashes over me. Each wave is stronger than the last. Every wasted second could mean Diana and Paul’s suffering. It could have brought us closer to whatever horror the wolves have planned.

The amulet pulses against my chest, matching my racing heartbeat. Draakmar stirs restlessly within, and I swear the dragon’s agitation feels different when I think of the child. There’s something he’s trying to tell me, something I’m missing.

“Any news? When do we leave? I need to be there.” I text Anthony back, taking multiple bites to finish the sandwich. My head clears, and I get up to use the bathroom.

Blood and moonlight.

The words echo in my head like a death knell. Two nights until the full moon. The werewolves already have Paul and now Diana is missing.

My phone dings as I return to the room. Anthony has written back, “Just landed in Kansas City. If she’s here, I’ll find her. I got this.”

I start to type back, but it dings again.

Anthony writes, “I took Lorelai with me. Nice lady. She wanted to help. Our mother thought it best if she was not in the city right now. Sorry if that’s weird.”

“It’s weird,” I answer, before adding, “Thanks for doing this.”

A shadow moves across my wall—too solid to be cast by the city lights below and too deliberate to be natural. My pulse quickens as the temperature seems to drop. I know who it is before I turn around. I can feel his presence like a physical weight.

“Did you know, Costin?” I demand, anger burning through the last of my grogginess.

My hands shake with barely contained frustration, but beneath the anger is that familiar spark of awareness that invariably ignites when he’s near. His presence fills the room like a physical force.

I’m starting to hate him for it.

At least, I’m telling my lying self that.

“Did you know they’d go after Paul’s daughter?” I continue. The amulet burns hotter against my skin. Draakmar feeds off my fury. “A child , Costin. They’re after a child.”

“I warned you to stay out of this,” Costin says. His voice carries that ancient weight that reminds me he’s been a witness to centuries. What is one human life compared to a creature who has seen so many? “Werewolves are feral, dangerous creatures. I was trying to keep you safe.”

But I don’t feel safe. Nothing does. Not when an innocent child’s life hangs in the balance. Not when time is running out.

“Safe? I’m not yours to keep safe, Costin.” I laugh in disbelief, the sound harsh and bitter in my throat. The predator in him is close to the surface, and despite everything, I’m aroused by it. I only partially believe what I’m saying. “I can take care of myself.”

He moves closer, moonlight catching the fresh blood on his hand. I’m not scared for myself, but from the idea that he’s been feeding. The sight of blood on his skin should repulse me. I tell myself it does. I’m too much of a coward to ask him how he ate. Or who. I am too afraid to acknowledge how the predator in him calls to something wild in me.

“What is it about this man?” Costin demands. Before I can retreat, his fingers catch my neck. They’re warm and are further proof that he’s been feeding. His eyes swirl with possessive power. I feel the jealousy radiating off of him. There is a desperation I’ve never seen before, a crack in his perfect control that makes him even more irresistible. His thumb traces over my pulse, and I hate how my body aches for his touch even as my mind screams to pull away .

I’m so used to thinking of him as strong and powerful. Now, to see the vulnerability takes me aback. The great Constantine, master of vampires, actually looks afraid.

“What is it about Paul that makes him so special?” he asks, this time more like a plea as he tries to understand.

“He saved my life. He helped me when he didn’t have to. I’ve told you all this, Costin. He should not be punished because he was kind to a stranger. His parents are hurt, his daughter’s been taken, and it’s all my fault. They’re on the supernatural’s radar because of me. They fit the requirements for this ritual because of me. If they’d never met me...” My voice breaks. “Diana would be safe at home, not being used for some werewolf ritual.”

There’s more to what I feel for Paul than gratitude. I know we both know it. I can’t help but wish he’ll leave it at that.

I am not so lucky.

“Why do you love him?” Costin’s voice drops to a dangerous whisper. He stands unnaturally still, a predator poised to strike. The blood on his hand gleams in the moonlight, a reminder of what he truly is. I wish I could read the thoughts behind those ancient eyes and translate the micro-expressions that centuries have taught him to hide. I wish, just once, I had the same power over him that he holds over me.

I want to tell him I don’t love Paul, but the lie sticks in my throat. There’s a part of me that desperately wants what Paul represents. I want normalcy, equality, and a life where I’m not constantly reminded of my mortality or treated less than because of it. In the supernatural world, being human is seen as a flaw, a weakness to be protected or exploited. But Paul... Paul never saw me that way.

I want to belong. I want to be able to hold my own without having to depend on others to take care of me. Paul saw me as an equal, not something to be controlled or sheltered. I miss that feeling.

The memory of it makes my chest ache, even as Draakmar’s restless presence reminds me I can never return to being just human. Not now. Not with an ancient dragon’s power protecting me and a child’s life hanging in the balance.

“Tell me.” Costin stares at me expectantly.

My voice chokes in my throat. The amulet burns against my skin. Draakmar senses my turmoil. Why has everything become so complicated? A few days ago, my biggest worry was avoiding Chester Freemont. Now I’m caught between a master vampire and a ritual sacrifice, with an innocent child’s life in the balance.

His fingers tighten on my neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind me of his inhuman strength. “Will you ever love me like you do him?”

The question carries an edge of desperation.

I don’t know what to say. I don’t allow myself to think about love with Costin. It’s too dangerous and complicated. He’s lived for centuries and will live for centuries more. I’m just a mortal, a tiny blip on his timeline that will fade in the blink of his immortal eye. The depth of my feelings for him terrifies me because I know I’ll never mean as much to him as he does to me.

I need to refocus my thoughts and resist the temptation of his eyes. With time running out for Diana, how can I think about love at all?

“If you won’t tell me. Show me,” Costin whispers, his voice dropping to that dangerous velvet tone that makes my knees weak. Crimson bleeds into his eyes like spilled wine, hypnotic and terrifying. “Show me why he matters so much to you.”

His grip tightens on my neck. Before I can react, his fangs tear into his palm. The scent of ancient vampire blood hits me. It’s powerful and intoxicating.

“No!” I try to scramble away, but supernatural speed makes resistance futile. His arm bands around my back like steel, crushing me against his chest as his bleeding palm presses against my mouth .

Draakmar’s protective presence feels distant as Costin’s blood magic takes hold.

The thick, metallic taste floods my tongue. I thrash against him, but it’s like fighting a marble statue.

“I need to understand.” His voice carries a desperate edge that scares me more than his strength. This isn’t the controlled master vampire I know. This is raw and dangerous. “Show me everything.”

The world blurs and shifts, reality bleeding away like watercolors in the rain. I try to fight his blood magic, but a riptide is pulling me under.

“No, we don’t have time for this!” I try to fight, but his blood chokes the protest back.

It’s too late. The room spins violently, and I feel myself being torn backward through time. Fragments of memory flash past like broken glass as my mind finds the right one. I see Diana’s terrified face, Paul’s gentle smile, and the vampires appearing from the shadows. I don’t want Costin to see any of this. I don’t want to relive these moments. I don’t want to feel.

The memory he’s searching for crystalizes with brutal clarity. It hits me like a physical blow, and I feel Costin’s presence watching and judging. His blood magic makes everything sharper, more vivid than I want it to be, and I’m helpless to stop it as the present dissolves…

Hotel, Downtown Kansas City, Several Months Earlier…

If places carry emotions, then this hotel room radiates desperation and despair. Paul and I are tangled in sheets, the aftermath of passion still humming through my body. There’s an undercurrent of fear we can’t ignore, but for this brief moment, it doesn’t matter. My fingers trace symbols on his skin, patterns I learned from my supernatural family but never thought I’d use. His hand catches mine, pressing my palm down to stop the movement.

Through the blood magic, I can feel Costin’s jealousy spike at this intimate moment.

“I hate that I brought you here.” Paul’s voice carries the weight of a man who’s seen too much. He stares at the stained ceiling tiles. A pencil stuck in one of the panels catches my attention, and I stare at it until my vision blurs with unshed tears.

“I hate that I brought chaos into your life,” I answer.

Part of me knows I am reliving a moment that happened, though it feels real. I sense Costin on the edge of my mind like an unwanted voyeur, his presence growing more intense as he searches for something specific in this memory. And yet, it’s hard to resist the feelings just as it was the first time. They again pull me into the scene.

Paul’s brow furrows, and he turns onto his side to study me. “I have to ask you something I’ve been wondering about.”

My stomach tenses. “Ask.”

He cups my cheek. “What particular thing were you supposed to find in the enchanted forest game?”

A tiny laugh escapes me. He’s referring to a game called Hunter and Hunted. I told him about, when I was younger, Anthony and his friends invited Conrad and me to play with them in the woods. Everyone drew a card and searched for that object. The woods were enchanted, and we couldn’t leave until we found it. I got separated from the others. Branches kept scraping my skin because the forest was so dense. I had been terrified.

“A fairy ring,” I answer, thinking of my object. I had no clue at the time what that was. “I thought it was jewelry. Turns out it’s a ring of mushrooms.”

“How did you get out if you didn’t know what you were looking for?” he persists.

“My grandfather ended the game when I didn’t come home. He came to get me.” I briefly touch my amulet. “I think he would have liked you.”

Through the blood magic, I feel Costin’s grief at the mention of my grandfather. Their friendship had spanned decades, and a promise to George forced Costin to watch over me. Even now, years after his death, Costin is keeping that promise… though perhaps not in the way either of them had imagined.

“Show me everything,” Costin whispers in the back of my mind, and I feel him drinking from my past.

The memory shifts like smoke caught in a sudden wind. Costin’s blood magic pulls us forward, hungry for understanding. Paul and I are sitting up now, tension thick between us as his expression grows serious. I want to stop reliving this.

“Who would want your family dead?” Paul demands.

The question hits me like a physical blow, then and now. This was our first time together, and instead of afterglow, we got this. I try to resist showing more, but Costin’s blood magic won’t let me hide.

I don’t have an answer. In this erased reality, my mother, father, Anthony, and Costin were all dead. Killed in the birthday fire. My chest aches with phantom grief for deaths that never happened, lives the amulet restored when it broke. The memory feels too real. Through Costin’s magic, I can feel both timelines overlapping.

My family is alive now, but the memory of their deaths still haunts me. I mourned at their graves. That kind of pain changes a person. Even now, that grief settles over me like a thick, smothering blanket, and I can’t breathe.

“Show me everything,” Costin’s voice demands, each word driving his blood magic deeper. The pressure builds behind my eyes until I think my skull might crack.

My temple is pounding, and the more I fight against the memory, the worse the pain becomes. I already have these answers. This only leads deeper into Conrad’s betrayal, Paul’s death in that timeline, and Diana’s innocence being shattered. Why is Costin forcing me to relive this? What is he really looking for?

The blood magic won’t let me hide. Finally, I’m forced to answer just as I did that day. “They were some of the most extraordinary magics in the world, but feared and loved are not the same thing. They probably have enemies I don’t even know about.”

Through Costin’s power, I feel the bitter irony of those words. I had no idea then that the real enemy was sitting at our family dinner table.

As I follow the memory, the pain in my head lessens.

Costin’s presence grows heavier. He’s watching intently now, seeing through my eyes as Paul pieces together what I couldn’t .

“Who would want you dead?” Paul’s eyes tell me he already suspects an answer. Even now, through the blood magic, I can see the moment he figured it out before I did.

“No one. I’m nobody.” The words taste like ash in my mouth. Even as I say them, I know they’re not true. In this erased timeline, the birthday fire had killed most of my family, including Costin. Then came the second explosion at Conrad’s birth mother’s apartment. And the third that almost took out Conrad’s old foster family. It’s a pattern I had been too blind to see, too hurt to acknowledge.

“Who had the addresses for all three fires?” Paul demands.

Paul’s words come faster now, each one hitting like a physical blow. Through the memory, I feel Costin’s grip tighten on my real body, his presence a cold shadow as he watches this intimate moment between Paul and me. There’s something possessive about how he holds me as if he’s trying to anchor me to the present even as we dive deeper into the past.

“Conrad’s family. Conrad’s remaining sister. Conrad’s birth mother. Conrad’s foster family...” Paul says, laying out the evidence of my brother’s betrayal.

I try to fight against reliving this moment, but the vampire’s blood magic won’t let me escape. The conversation continues exactly as it happened. I try to scream at Costin to stop, but I can’t overwrite the past. I feel tears on my cheek.

“And if you’re out of the way, who gets all that Devine power and money?” Paul’s tone softens at my tears. “Who is there now making all the decisions regarding the estate? Who is dealing with the lawyers? I know you don’t want to see it because you’ve lost so much, but I say this because I care. Often, the simplest answer is the right answer.”

Hot tears slide down my cheeks as the truth I didn’t want to see becomes clear. Even now, with Conrad dead and the timeline reset, this moment cuts deep. I want Costin to stop this. I don’t want to feel it. I don’t want to remember how much I trusted my brother, how blind I was to his darkness.

The memory of what happened later—of Conrad’s death when he stole my amulet—tries to surface, but the blood magic keeps me locked in this moment. Costin wants to understand, to see how Paul broke through my defenses when no one else could.

“Tamara, I’m sorry,” Paul continues. His voice sounds distant through the haze of that past and present, “but I think Conrad is trying to kill you.”

No, no, no, no, no…

The memory shatters like glass fragments. They cut deep as Costin yanks his bloody hand away. Reality crashes back with a brutal force. His grip is almost painful, and I can feel him trembling. We stand in the bedroom as if no time has passed.

“Did you get what you wanted?” I whisper, my emotions raw. The taste of his blood lingers on my tongue. “Paul figured it out before anyone else. He saw the truth about Conrad when I was blind. He protected me. He risked everything to help me. And now he and his daughter’s in danger because of it.”

“He loved you.” Costin’s words come out like an accusation.

“Yes.” I don’t deny it. The amulet hums against my chest. Draakmar’s presence is returning now that Costin’s blood magic has released me.

“And you love him.” It’s not a question.

“Costin, don’t...” I whisper, pressing my palm against the amulet to steady myself. “There is no point in talking about that past. It’s all been erased. None of this changes that the werewolves took him. They need him because he died and came back when the timeline reset. His mortality is touched by death magic.”

“It’s not erased for you and him.” Costin’s voice is laced with bitter understanding. “He remembers. You remember. ”

I nod. There is no point in denying it. Draakmar stirs, sensing the growing tension.

Costin releases me so suddenly that I nearly fall. “Get out.”

“What? Why? This is my room.” The taste of his blood remains as a reminder of the intimacy he forced between us.

“Get. Out.” His eyes blaze crimson, and I see the monster he tries so hard to contain. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”