Created him? What is that supposed to mean? Nothing she’s saying makes any sense. I feel like my brain is frozen, missing the bigger picture, even though I hold all the pieces in my hands.
Behind them, Blaise is swinging his scimitar left and right, wounding Rami in the torso, before jumping high and driving the curved blade deep into Leilah’s neck. With one violent movement he pulls it out, severing her head from her body, and she dies with a deafening shriek. I wince as her head rolls down onto the hardwood floor. She was a raging bitch, it’s true. But she was part of their inner circle, and if there was ever any hope for her redemption, now that’s lost forever, just a heap of rotting sinew and mangled flesh.
Marhus is fighting against Jonathan and Corbyn, but it’s easy to see that they are overpowering him. The moment Jonathan drives a sword through his chest, impaling him, I scream in horror. Marhus spits rivers of blood as he tries to fight the creatures off of him, but it’s futile. Jonathan grabs his neck, throwing him blistering fast towards Morweena. She doesn’t even break her hold on the shadows that come relentlessly at Killian, throwing one arm to catch Marhus mid-air by the jaw, and I watch in terror as the once turquoise eyes of the vampire general turn completely scarlet.
“No, no, no!”
I watch through frantic tears as Morweena releases the new onpyr creature from her hold. Marhus turns his vicious gaze on Blaise, tackling him to the ground.
I feel something slithering under my skin in trepidation, trying to break free from the confines of my flesh. Blaise can’t die! I try to focus on the buzzing in my veins, but it’s somehow locked—right there, but so annoyingly out of reach.
More and more vampire soldiers spill into the room, fighting their way through the onpyrs, but more than half are being thrown into Morweena’s clutches, turning instantly.
The foul stench of death fills every crevice of my body, staining my very soul. Head rolls right and left, and I can barely see anymore through my tears. Killian is holding his own, locked in a show of strength and shadows with my evil twin, while Blaise throws Marhus to the side, pushing his scimitar between his former friend’s ribs. He unsheathes a long dagger from his belt and grabs Marhus by the hair before swinging the blade through the creature’s throat, hacking and sawing until nothing’s left beside blood and gore. I see him closing his eyes in remorse, mouthing, “Sorry, brother,” before he jumps back on his agile legs and throws himself on the nearest onpyr, beheading him.
There is no time for tears, for mourning. These cursed creatures are relentless, and they will stop at nothing, leaving only mangled corpses and despair in their wake. And I’m so fucking worthless, unable to even breathe properly, or use a blade. All my training was for nothing. Faced with the barbarity of battle, I am nothing but a scared, useless girl, cowering in a corner, weighted down by panic and grief. I can’t even decipher what this thrum in my core is, or how to bring it to the surface.
“It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault,” I whisper in a broken voice, unable to look away from the slaughter of the beings that I came close to calling my friends, my family.
All at once, I’m yanked from the ground by a hissing Jonathan, grinning like a madman, as he pushes me against the wall. I didn’t even see him coming.
“Missed me, baby doll?” he spits as he forces my hands above my head, pushing his pelvis into me and licking my tears away. “My cock surely missed that sweet cunt of yours. Can’t wait to have you turned and be my pet for eternity. Mistress promised I can keep you as my little sex slave. You’re my reward once she is Queen.”
I flail and buckle to no avail, screaming in distress as he angles his head to bite into my neck. The buzzing only intensifies, thrashing madly inside my very soul, and I close my eyes, just as filthy fangs graze my throat.
“Nooooo,” Killian shouts, throwing one of his family’s daggers into Jonathan’s skull, enough to make the creature loosen his hold on me. But that distraction costs him dearly, and I watch at a crawling pace how Morweena leaps onto his back, fighting to grab his handsome face.
Time stops to a halt.
The world tilts on its axis, distorting everything like violent ripples in the still surface of a bloodied lake.
Killian is about to become her onpyr puppet. I am losing the love of my life, and I didn’t even get the chance to tell him how much I love him. That I would die a thousand deaths and be reborn a thousand times, just to spend another blissful night with him. That he is the air I breathe, the tears I cry, the sun I revolve around, and the gentle breeze that will carry my ashes into the afterworld.
Something deep inside my bones finally snaps. A power surge like nothing I’ve ever felt before swells from the darkest corners of my damaged soul, hungry for vengeance, for comeuppance, and total annihilation. It chews my insides like a raging black fury, starting from my chest and reaching the tips of my fingers.
I throw my hands in front of me, screaming bloody murder, in a voice I don’t even recognize. It’s ancient and angry, filled with every single torment I have ever faced, every unkind word I have been cut open with, every abuse, slap, kick and perversion I have ever endured at the hands of my sister and her henchmen.
A stygian abyss of nothingness erupts all around me, covering the entire chamber in its perpetual vacuum of life-absorbing force. Windows shatter, chandeliers fall from the ceiling, and deafening onpyr wails resound through the never-ending blackness. I sense my sister’s body flying off Killian’s shoulders, hurtling across the room and through the broken windows, before vanishing in the frigid night.
There’s a moment of absolute stillness.
Irredeemable silence.
Not even my heavy breathing can be heard in this deafening muteness.
Torturously slow, the sable shadows recede, slithering on the ground towards me, like death-eating serpents that coil around my shaking limbs, imprinting my skin with their swirling forms. I watch in awe and consternation how my arms and legs display inky tattoos of scaly creatures, writhing under my skin as if they are alive.
Bone-weary and depleted, I raise my gaze from my body to the heartbreaking mayhem marring the once opulent dining hall. Charred, blackened piles of goo steam on the ground, where just moments ago the onpyrs stood. At my feet, a pool of such foul sludge stains the floor.
Jonathan. I almost smile, knowing I have reduced my defiler to nothing.
Several dazed vampire soldiers lie on the ground, panting and shaking their heads, as if to dispel the last remnants of a gruesome night terror. Blaise is among them, staring at me shocked, his jaw slack and face battered and bruised.
Killian is on his knees a few feet away from me, disheveled and bloodied. He studies me with narrowed eyes, as if he is seeing me for the first time in his existence, and he doesn’t know what to think of me.
With my last crumb of vigor, I throw myself at him. A relieved “You’re alive,” escapes my lips, as tears run down my face, staining my cheeks, my neck, my teared-up gown. All I want is to fling my arms around his powerful body, to squeeze him tight and weep this horrifying experience away. I long for his soothing touch, his warm embrace, and gentle words that can mend me back to myself. I yearn to hear him tell me how much he loves me, that he forgives me, that we’ve prevailed.
None of that happens.
