Page 63

GWYN

It buys them time. The split second of pain as I blinded Ketill makes him lose grasp of his bloodsworns—and none of them seem to know how to react. And when I stab him in his stupid fucking eye, Agnarr makes a move.

As Agnarr launches himself at Ketill, Roman makes a beeline straight to me.

He’s got scratches all over his neck and face and his leather jacket is torn, but he shoves everyone out of his way with ease.

They don’t even seem to resist as he pushes past them.

He folds me into his arms, my back to his front, as he turns us away from the crowding vampires.

They seem unsure of what to do, but they hold off.

A tall man with a long scar going across his face steps forward, squared up like he plans to reach for me, and my fangs snap out.

I growl, and a low echo rumbles from Roman’s chest. His gravelly bass underscores my alto melody, harmony and horror.

A coordinating partnership, we move in lockstep to position ourselves defensively.

In sync.

The vampire backs off, and his eyes widen as he glances over at the two ancient brothers.

“Tae er gjort, bróeir,” Agnarr says, speaking a language I hope to learn one day.

His hand is buried deep in Ketill’s chest, and the scent of blood is pungent as it permeates the room.

Considering what Roman told me about his motivations, the desire to maintain pure vampire blood, I’m not upset that Ketill doesn’t have a chance to spew his hateful vitriol.

Bitter to the end, Ketill spits in his brother’s face.

Agnarr doesn’t even flinch as saliva lands on his cheek a moment before he rips Ketill’s heart free from his chest. I don’t expect him to launch it at me with force, but Roman catches the crimson organ with a wet splat just before it hits me in the face.

“Eat it,” he says, holding it up to my mouth.

“Fuck, no. You eat it,” I say. Consuming just a single heart is more than enough for one lifetime.

“It does not matter!” Agnarr bellows, as he rips his brother’s head from his shoulders. “But someone must!”

“Okay, fuck. Goddammit,” Roman murmurs as Ketill’s vampires, now sworn to no one, watch with rapt attention. I pull out the half-empty vial of powdered silver and dump it into my hand, ready to blow it in their faces if they so much as consider moving toward us.

I’m grateful to be in front of Roman when he tears into the thick, muscled flesh.

The wet squelch of blood and the rough pulling and tearing sounds send a shiver up my spine.

I’m going to have nightmares about this, I’m sure.

He manages to eat it faster than I ate his father’s, a disgusting belch tearing up his throat only a few moments later.

“How the hell did you do that?” I ask.

“Can’t talk,” he says, putting a fist to his mouth to stifle his gag. My own reflex sympathizes. If he pukes, I’m not far behind him.

“Send them away, Roman,” Agnarr says, and the vampires funnel out of the morgue without even waiting for a command.

The large man from before lingers, and I assume he must have been close to Ketill.

Finally, Roman shouts at him to leave, and the vampire listens.

Roman’s coughing and wiping tears from beneath his eyes, struggling to keep down what he just ingested.

Agnarr approaches me, slow and cautious, like I’m a wild animal.

Perhaps I’ve become one. After all this, I think I reserve the right to have my guard up.

Before I was even born, I was meant to be used, created to topple an abusive regime.

Ever since, I’ve been hunted because of what I am—something that Ketill, in his pursuit of power, bastardized and twisted.

With nothing left to fear, I expect a yawning emptiness to form between my lungs, a black hole, ready to twist me inside out. All of my enemies, known and unknown, are dead. Most of my family, too. Nearly everyone who has cared for me has died for this moment.

What if it swallows me whole?

What if there’s a cavern inside me, forced open by all that I’ve lost, and I sway on the edge, tempted to throw myself in?

Roman moves to stand beside me, his hulking presence feeling like a safety net. He’d know, especially now, that trying to get me to back away from the ledge is futile. But he’s already spread himself thin for me before, ready to catch me when I needed it.

Perhaps in losing everything, I’ve also gained it.

Agnarr speaks, oblivious to my mental spiral, but his words don’t register.

“What?”

Roman clears his throat, half-choking on a cough as he tries to stand between us.

“I said I hope to give you my heart one day soon—when you are ready. I am done with this life, and I want you to rule over the remaining vampires beside your mate. Two kingdoms combined.”

I’m certain I didn’t hear him right. My heart pounds, a staccato drum racing to a crescendo, and my vision narrows.

All I can do is stare at Roman. He coughs, rubbing a hand over his mouth, before stepping toward me.

His hand settles on my waist as his eyes meet mine.

I’ve never seen him uncertain, and yet he rubs the back of his neck and averts his gaze.

I can’t look away.

From the man I’ve hated and sought to destroy. From the man who I’ve loved since before I knew him. The man I simply cannot live without.

My mate.

“I don’t remember that part of the story,” I say, soft and quiet.

There’s a faint piano playing in my lungs, gentle fingertips expertly finding the lingering melody after striking major chords within me.

Warm, brown eyes lift to meet mine, and he looks like Roman once again. Serious, his brow lifts in challenge.

“I didn’t think it was worth mentioning. You’re mine, mate or not. Aren’t you?”

I nod, unable to speak, and after a moment, when I’m certain he’s not going to be sick, I launch myself into his arms.

“Yours,” I say. “Mate or not.”

And when I kiss him in a bloody morgue, surrounded by gore and death and remnants of vengeance, I think it suits us just fine. Like a perennial emerging from a flowerbed choked by thorns, my heart blooms.