Page 58 of Cursed Lifeline (Eternal Love)
Transylvania, Romania
Smiling, I take a deep breath, cross one leg over the other, sit back on my throne, and rest in the peaceful knowledge that my Angel has now obtained his biggest wish.
Not only did he get the girl, but he broke the curse and was thus granted the mortality stolen from him several centuries ago.
“Now cracks a noble heart,” I smile. “Goodnight, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.”
Looking out across the empty throne room, I only hope that Talon and Celeste one day can do the same and put their differences aside long enough to realize even eternal life is better spent walking in love.
Evangeline and Alfred have a long road to walk as well if they’re ever going to find the course they are destined to embrace.
As for Viktor, well, it looks as if his troubles have only just begun.
Rising from my seat, I take the steps of my dais confidently, enjoying the quiet of my empty estate. It’s been centuries since I’ve felt so at ease, and I relish in the serenity, knowing there’s a good chance it won’t last long.
Perhaps it may have aided the players in this game if they knew the truth about my past before they ever got started. But I purposefully never divulged my secrets because doing so would ruin the future.A future I saw perfectly and orchestrated by keeping the players engaged where they needed to be, starting with Felix and Esme’s fated meeting in France.
What I withheld from them back then, is finally safe to divulge now.
I didn’t kill Draven.
Ember did.
If she couldn’t have Draven, no one could.
It’s what I warned him about in Spellbinding Storybooks over three hundred centuries ago, but he wouldn’t listen.
Because of his stubbornness, a mess was made. One he’s just as much at fault for as I am.
Ember was responsible for the curse, but if Draven had just listened to reason, to the elders, to fate telling him he belonged to Ember and not me, maybe none of this would’ve happened.
Maybe we could’ve avoided all of this if he just didn’t listen to his heart.
I sigh to myself as I walk toward the throne room exit, “I know love is begun by time, And that I see, in passages of proof, Time qualifies the spark and fire of it. There lives within the very flame of love, a kind of wick or snuff that will abate it.”
If Ember’s hand hadn’t slayed Draven, there is no guarantee the future he tried to enforce would’ve lasted. He might have one day decided to play tricks and give in to the mating bond between himself and my sister, which is why I may have been the mastermind behind all of this since the beginning.
I’m trusting you to bring me back from the afterlife.
With a bit of help from a fae princess, I devised my own plot twist. When Evangeline realized Viktor was under a blood oath, she came to me and we found the key to drawing Ember out of hiding. Since then, we devised a plan, and the princess created a spell that would aide me in my mission to fulfill a promise I made to the only man I ever loved in a bookshop nearly four hundred years ago. If Felix and Esme were ever successful in breaking the curse, Evangeline’s spell would act as a ritual while taking Ember’s life instead of the slayers.
Love is messy, and over the centuries I’ve learned one thing. The only true way to find your destiny is to follow your heart.
"The lady does protest too much, methinks,” a sinful voice growls behind me.
Swinging around quickly, my eyes lock joyfully on a sight I never thought I’d see again as the King of the Damned leans forward on his throne, rests his muscular arms on his powerful knees, and says, “I didn’t turn you, and claim you as mine to one day play tricks, Drusilla.”
Raven feathers sit in piles at his feet. Eyes locked on me, he brushes a few of the ebony feathers off his shoulders and picks one or two off his lap. Overlooking the anger in his voice, I smile as he rises from his seat, walks through the prophetic plumage, and descends a throne I haven’t seen him occupy for centuries.
“Joke’s on me in the end, am I right?” he grins wickedly.
Evangeline’s warning, when I asked her to orchestrate his resurrection, comes back to haunt me as his furious stare locks harshly on mine.
Once you bring someone back to life, there is no guarantee they will return the same. There is no telling what they would come back like.
Taking a startled step back, I turn intent on quickly misting to the door when Draven beats me to it.
Teleporting at the speed of light, he reaches my side, grips my throat, and backs me up against the nearest wall. Studying my horrified expression, a mischievous grin pulls at his lips as he leans forward and whispers, “No, precious, I’d say the jokes on you.”
Cocking his head to the side, he studies the fear in my gaze like it’s the fuel he needs to grow stronger and more powerful than he was in his last life.Brushing his thumb seductively against my lips, I open my mouth to speak, but he tightens his grip and cuts off my air supply. Attempting to yank his hands off me, I claw at his grip before he gathers my palms in his free hand and roughly secures them above my head. Seeking an escape, I kick out and buck my hips, but he firmly presses his powerful frame into me and keeps me locked in submission.
“Hundreds of years,” he growls harshly against my lips. “Thousands of days and nights, I sat in hell plotting what I’d do to you when I was finally brought back to life because of the mess you’ve been making of things.”
Paralyzed by his words, I stop fighting.
“Oh, precious,” he grins, “you didn’t think you wouldn’t be punished for allowing my firstborn a loopholeto become mortal, did you?”
“It was the only way,” I manage, but dark powers seep from his fingertips and viciously cut off my reply.
“I did love you once,” his breath feathers with indignation against my lips.
He slightly loosens his grip.
“ Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so ,” I softly cry.
“You should not have believed me,” he growls. Pulling me from the wall, he hoists me over his shoulder. Stalking off, I attempt to use my magic to loosen his grip, teleport out of his hold, do something, anything to gain my freedom, but surprisingly, I’m rendered powerless.
“Iam veryproud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offenses at my beck than I have thoughts to putthem in,imaginationtogivethemshape,ortimetoact themin,” he seethes.
Banging my fists against his back, he kicks open the door to the throne room and quickly strides down the hall to the master suite.“But now all that’s changed, seeing as time is once again on my side.”
He plows through the bedroom door and tosses me harshly onto the large four-post bed. My body slides against black satin sheets, making it impossible to gain ground and try to run for freedom.
“I changed you with the intent to spend eternity together,” he growls, “In pleasure or pain, you decide.”
By the look in his eyes, as he stalks closer, it’s evident heaven or hell can’t help me now, but that doesn’t stop me from sending up a silent prayer as he cages me in and says, “Now, tell me, precious, and don’t make me ask twice. Where. Are. My. Sons?”