Dani's broken whimpers slice through my bloodlust like a blade to the heart. I drop to my knees beside her, but she thrashes against my touch, fighting with the last scraps of strength she has left.
"No! No, get the fuck off me!"
Raw terror tears through her voice as she lashes out. Her fists pound my chest, nails raking skin—pure survival instinct driving her. Each blow, each scream, pierces my heart—my mate lost in a nightmare where she can't recognize me.
Her eyes dart wildly, seeing threats in every corner. The scent of her fear chokes me, mixed with blood and the stench of what those bastards did to her.
Each rejection burns deeper than any battle wound, but I'll endure it all until she finds her way back to me. They might have broken her body, but I won't let them shatter her spirit.
"Baby... baby, it's okay. It's me. I'm here." I keep my voice soft and gentle, even as rage burns in my chest at what they've done to her. She's trembling like a wounded bird as I carefully cradle her face between my palms, needing her to look at me, and my heart fucking shatters. Those bastards have turned her beautiful features into a canvas of violence—one eye swollen shut, lip split and bleeding, dark bruises blooming across her cheekbone. Blood matts her hair where they slammed her head down.
"Look at me, Angel. I got you." I pour everything I am into those words. My fierce girl fought like hell, and I swear no one will ever touch her again.
The monster in me howls for more blood and more vengeance, but right now, my mate needs the man, not the beast. Everything else can fucking wait.
"Rhyland..." My name breaks across her fragile, broken lips. Her beautiful eyes, that are like warm as summer sunshine—one swollen and bruised, finally focus on my face. The fog of terror lifts just enough for recognition to spark in those depths I love so much—like a drowning person finally finding solid ground.
The moment she sees me something fractures deep inside. Her gaze holds such pain, such relief; it feels like my heart's being ripped out.
"Yeah, baby. I'm here. I'm…so fucking sorry." The words feel pathetically inadequate as she crumbles against me, her sobs tearing through my soul.
My angel buries her face in my neck, arms wrapping around me like I'm her last anchor to sanity. Her naked body maps their brutality—bite marks ravaging her throat and breasts, bruises painting her skin in violent shades. Her precious blood seeps from countless wounds, each drop, another failure carved into my conscience.
"Shh...Shh…I gotcha, Angel. Come 'ere." My voice cracks as I gather her broken form against me, moving with all the gentleness I possess. She weighs nothing in my arms—too much blood lost, too much pain endured. Her skin is deathly cold, her heartbeat a fragile flutter against my chest. Every shallow, pained breath she takes twists the knife of guilt deeper.
The question burns in my mind like acid: did that piece of shit rape her before I got here? The thought alone makes me want to drag his worthless soul back from hell just to destroy him again and again, make him suffer for eternity for every mark on her skin, every drop of blood stolen, every second of terror she endured.
"It's okay, baby." I breathe into her blood-matted hair, pushing every ounce of love and protection I have through our bond. "Let's get you home. Where I can heal you, keep you safe, make sure nothing ever touches you again."
Hersobs gradually quiet into shuddering breaths as the tension bleeds from her body. Even beaten and broken, she clings to me with surprising strength—those delicate fingers digging into my neck like she's afraid I'll disappear. My fierce little angel—still showing that iron will even after fighting for her life.
The trust she shows, letting her guard down despite the horror she just endured, humbles me to my fucking core. I don't deserve it—not after failing to protect her.
My woman. My everything. The only light pure enough to pull me back from the edge of darkness. I'll spend the rest of eternity making up for failing her tonight.
Lucian
14
Iwatch my brother blur up those stairs like Satan himself lit a fire under his Viking ass—and considering the murder written all over his face, the Devil better take a number. Wherever Rhyland vanished to earlier, it clearly didn't improve his mood. When he's this pissed, even the apocalypse would take one look and say, "Nah, I'll come back later."
Meanwhile, Emily's got our psycho maker trapped in her magical hamster ball, and those emerald eyes bring back every twisted memory I've spentyearstrying to drink away. No way was I letting Emily go all Sabrina the Teenage Badass to face this nightmare alone—though convincing my stubborn angel to sit this one out took every trick in my considerable charm arsenal.
"Please, Cupcake," I'd begged, actuallybegged—and let me tell you, that's not a good look on this handsome face. "Someone needs to keep an eye on Sable while babysitting Baby Vamp downstairs." But we both knew I was really saying, 'I can't watch you get hurt.' My celestial sweetheart's already survived enough of our vampire family drama to fill several heavenly therapy sessions—last thing she needs is a front-row seat to Mommy Dearest's psychotic comeback tour.
My eyes scan for Sir Broods-a-Lot, but Erik's pulled a Houdini on us. That brooding bastard never misses a chance to judge our life choices with his disapproving stare—something's definitely fucky here, and my undead gut's doing backflips.
"Think you can keep me in this sparkly timeout corner, you weak witch?" Lilith sneers through the barrier. Just hearing that voice—that same fucking voice that used to whisper such sweet poison while she broke me piece by piece—makes me shiver.
Emily's got her best "fuck around and find out" face on, hands weaving magic like she's conducting an orchestra of pure sass. "Bitch, I could do this with one hand and still scroll TikTok with the other."
Those emerald eyes lock onto me, and suddenly I'm right back there—forty years as that Fanged Thunder-cunt's favorite fuck toy. Made me slaughter innocent kids with a smile while my soul turned to ash. Finally shoved a stake against my own heart, ready to punch my ticket to hell just to escape her twisted shit show. If Rhyland hadn't fed this Couture Cock-goblin's ego exactly what her psychotic heart wanted that night... well, some nightmares are better left choking on silence.
"Well... if it isn't my greatest failure," she drawls. "Tell me, darling, have you missed Mummy?" Her nails tap against the barrier. "Should have let you end your pathetic existence that night. Forty years trying to mold you into something worthy—what a waste."
The rage bubbling up tastes like copper and children's screams.
I force my best shit-eating grin, even as my hands shake. "Oh,totally, Mom! Been meaning to send a card—'Sorry you're a rapist psycho who gets off on mind-fucking people into being murder puppets' wasn't available at Hallmark. But hey, maybe Etsy has something in the 'Go Fuck Yourself' collection?"
