Page 47 of The Vampire's Mercy

“Why here?” I asked. Did he fly us over here?

He responded with a growl.

Scum. Look at that palace, that mockery to Aidan. There should be a temple up there, not a shitty house of sin.

“Murderer,” he said.

Oh, did that get my mouth running. “You’re worse than me, you piece of shit. How much mortal blood is sloshing in your guts?”

I shook with rage, my feet curled tightly in my shoes. I’d kill him. Somehow, I’d bypass his defenses and obliterate him.

“My friend?—”

I roared, no slow crawl to anger here. “Fuck your friend! Fuck all of you!”

Was I supposed to feel empathy for Layla? Never. No vamp would ever get a drop of my sympathy. I’d rather throw myself into a vat of acid than shame my sister’s memory.

How screwed up was this world when vampires played the poor little victims?

He charged, moving too fast for me to react. He slammed a fist into my chest, sending me flying backward.

Definitely broke a rib or two.

The back of my head slammed off the causeway, my spine screaming from the landing.

Damn. Here came the pain again, sending a flurry of colored dots to my eyes. I coughed, bringing up blood.

Yep. Broken ribs for sure.

Oof. Vampire punches were brutal, but he took it to the next level. I was surprised there wasn’t a hole through my chest.

But it’d take more than this to keep me down. My bloods worked together, the werewolf healing kicking in, my elf nature drawing on the sea flora around me.

I got back to my feet, rolling my shoulders, a soothing warmth hugging my ribs.

He growled, fangs seeming bigger than before.

I hated him. I hated him so much. The bane of my existence, the heart of nightmares, the source of all pain.

“Come on!” I bellowed. “Come get me!”

If I couldn’t beat him, at least I’d go out fighting.

The king was on me too quickly again, spinning me so my back pressed against his chest, his hands on my head ready to break my neck.

“I shouldn’t make this quick,” he said, voice oozing vehemence. “You deserve to suffer.”

“Then make me suffer,” I countered, my hands locked behind my back, his leg wrapped around both of mine, pinning them together.

Basically, I was screwed. No amount of resisting and twisting would get me free.

This would be a great time for that crystal blade to arrive.

Hello? Help an elf out?

Nope. No miracle here.

“You’ll always be the invaders,” I threw out. “You can whine about your friend all you want, but it doesn’t change what you are. A monster who came to kill and drink and destroy. Disgusting.” I spat blood. “The rest of the world might wear the rosy glasses, but I never will.” I spat again to punctuate my words.