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??The Last Broadcast

Ember

I could no longer go back to my old life. Maybe once this was all over I could, but not now. Not with everything that’s coursing through my veins this very second.

I lit a candle with a thought. It flared blue. Hungry. My magic still tingled under my skin, humming with the pulse of something not quite human.

I sat at the mic. Just like I always had.

Except this time?

It’s goodbye.

“Welcome back to Dead Wrong , freaks and ghouls,” I purred. My voice was smooth. Controlled. Dripping with danger. “Tonight, this isn’t about death. Not really.”

I paused, eyes locking with Dorian across the room.

He’s shirtless. Blood rune on his chest still glowing faintly from the ritual. And he was watching me like he’s already undressing me with his thoughts.

It fueled me.

“There are things I’ve seen,” I said into the mic. “Things no one should. But I’m not afraid anymore.” I leaned forward, voice dropping to a sultry growl. “I’ve seen the Devil. And he wasn’t the villain. He was the cure.”

I breathed deep.

“There’s a man out there. A man who did what the system couldn’t.

He delivered justice. The kind that makes you look away.

But maybe—” I paused, lips curling “—maybe you should’ve been watching.

I’m not giving you his name. Because you don’t deserve it.

But he saved me. And I won’t let anyone touch him. ”

I decided to take a few calls before I signed off for good.

Caller #1 (Female, shaky, young, terrified)

“First caller. You’re live.”

“H-hey Ember. You were right. About the defense attorney. I think I saw him. Outside the court. With… something. His eyes, weren’t normal.”

I smiled softly. Dorian met my eyes from across the room, blood magic still faintly humming under his skin.

“You didn’t see him, sweetheart. You saw the storm coming.”

Click .

Caller #2 (Male, cocky, high-energy)

“Yo, Ember. Big fan. Love the kill theories. Gotta ask though, were you ever scared you were getting too close?”

I glanced at Dorian. My thighs still sticky from earlier. My body still humming with the afterglow of violence and need.

“I wasn’t scared. I was already inside the monster’s mouth. And guess what? I bit

Back.”

Click.

Caller #3 -(Male., pause, low, deep breath)

“Third caller. Let’s make it good.”

“You shouldn’t have survived.” My blood froze. Dorian went still. “You were meant to die with your mother. That door was closed for a reason.” The voice warped. Distorted. Kreed. “But now that you’ve opened it again, we’ll burn you both down.”

Click.

Silence.

I exhaled. Slowly. The flames flickered harder.

“And that, dear listeners, is the truth. They’re real. They’re listening. And they’ve made a mistake. I’m not running. I’m not hiding. I’m not just Ember anymore. I’m what happens when you fail to finish the job.”

I smiled. Cold and bright. “This is Ember from Dead Wrong … Signing off.”

Mic: OFF.

One final click.

One last exhale.

And then I turned to him.

“Was that dramatic enough?” I whispered.

Dorian crossed the room in a single breath. Grabbed me by the jaw and kissed me like he wanted to drink my magic out of my throat. “You have no idea what you just started,” he growled.

“Then show me,” I dared.

We didn’t make it to the bed.

The table. The floor. The fucking wall, everything became a battlefield dressed in shadows and flame.

He tore my shirt in two with a snarl, baring me to the cold air and his hungry eyes. I clawed at his belt like I was starving for him, because I was.

We collided, all teeth and tongues and tangled limbs, devouring each other with no room for gentleness.

He took me like a beast loosed from chains, his hand buried in my hair, yanking my head back just enough to bare my throat. The other gripped my hip hard enough to brand me with his fingers, pulling me against him until I felt nothing but him, deep, punishing and perfect.

My knees buckled with every thrust, every ragged moan, every filthy word he growled against my neck. I screamed his name like a prayer, a curse, a need I didn’t care to survive.

Then he bit me.

Sharp fangs sank into my neck, and the pain bloomed into ecstasy. I arched into it, into him, feeling the heat of my blood rush from me into his mouth as he drank deep, possessive, reverent.

My nails dug into his back, and I didn’t hesitate, I bit him, too, my teeth piercing the curve of his shoulder, tasting the dark, electric rush of him.

We moved together, bodies wild and slick, and soaked in blood and want, until the candles guttered out. Until the walls were smeared with the evidence of our hunger. Until we were one wrecked, sacred ruin.

After?

We lay there on the floor, breathless and stained. My body wrecked. His chest rising and falling against mine. And for a moment, I didn’t care about tomorrow.

Because tonight, I was his.

And he was mine.

And he said it, “Two must become one.”