Vane takes my arm, turning me to face him. “Look at me.”
I refuse to meet his eyes. I’m embarrassed. I wanted him to tone down his affection for me because I thought it would spare Jaxson’s feelings. Vane’s my mate; I never should have asked him to do that.
“Desiree, please.”
I lift my gaze. “What?”
Vane stares down at me, and I strain my neck to meet his eyes.
“Vyvyan had this same conversation with me a long time ago,” he begins. “It may sound harsh, but I’m not trying to be.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“You are a vampire now. Your mortal life is over. Yes, it wasn’t that long ago, and it holds wonderful memories—memories I want you to hold onto with all your heart, because one day, you will wake up and immortality will feel different. The people you love, your friends, your family, will grow old and die. Their time will be brief; yours is eternal. Missing them will be painful but promise me you won’t let the fear of losing them stop you from being happy. You deserve to be happy.”
He pauses before adding, “Jaxson is your first lesson in letting go. He was your first love, and saying goodbye hurts—that pain may last forever. But it will ebb with time, and I will be here to ensure you stay standing. Wilder is your brother; nothing will ever change that. You didn’t lose either of them; they are making their own choices, and those choices have consequences. Now, it is your choice on how you will move forward. With one foot in front of the other, or will you let them dictate your future?”
Something inside me splits—the new vampire part that understands precisely what he means, and the still-human part that wants to scream in denial.
“How do you do it?” I ask. “How do you watch them all slip away and not go mad?”
Vane studies me for a long moment, and I see decades of loss in his eyes. When he speaks, his voice is still soft. “You’re strong, Desiree. You know yourself better than I knew myself at your age. You’ve grown and adapted, refusing to let your vampirism define you. It’ll prevent you from hardening into a monster. Every loved one becomes an integral part of who you are, and that part remains with you forever. The gift of immortality isn’t surviving; it’s carrying that love through time.”
Fresh tears trickle down my face. “Your wisdom betrays your age, old man.”
Vane frowns. “I was trying to be nice.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to be nice,” I reply with a weak smile, failing to lighten the mood.
“Desiree.”
I squeeze him tighter when his grip on me loosens. “Hold me.”
“Forever, if you let me.”
We cling to each other in the dark. I cry into Vane’s chest; he never tells me to stop.
Silently, I wish Jaxson and his growing family all the best. I remind myself that Wilder will be fine. I’m not saying goodbye to him today or anytime soon, even if I might have to someday. And on that day, it’ll hurt like hell, but I won’t be alone. I won’t ever be again.
Leighand I go back to the party. She mingles with the spirits, trying to gather information about Fynn’s whereabouts. Kosac probably has him locked away somewhere. But where and why? Does he have some sinister reason for wanting an orphan boy? We need to find Fynn before anything happens to him.
While Leigh works the room, I keep a low profile. Kosac still hasn’t arrived, but when he does, I don’t want him to see me. He told me to leave Mictlan. I’m sure he’ll have zero remorse when he has his Dullahan finish what they started earlier.
Talk to that one, I say to Leigh through our strange telepathic bond, indicating to a blonde ghost with a tan complexion. She wears a black domino mask and flicks her frayed fan in sharp, restless motions. Unlike the others, she stands a little apart, shoulders tense, on edge. Her eyes behind the mask are restless, constantly scanning the room like a thief choosing her target.
Why her?Leigh asks, unconvinced.
Trust me.
Leigh saunters over to the ghost. “You look familiar,” she says.
The ghost smiles. It’s guarded yet interested. “Do I? I assure you we’ve never met, Your Majesty, but I do have a face that’s hard to forget.”
Leigh’s smile wavers. She clearly doesn’t recognize the ghost and is searching for the right words, her hesitation lingering a moment too long. I can see her trying to come up with questions that won’t send the ghost straight to Kosac. The ghost’s eyes flick toward the empty throne, impatience showing in her rigid posture.
Say something, I urge.
“Are you famous? How do you seem so familiar?” Leigh asks.
