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“Over the years, I sensed him pulling away from me,” I continue. “He grew bored. Restless. When he wasn’t pouting, he was jealous, starting fights with me and my brothers over my devotion. He insisted I loved Thorn more than him and only chose him because Thorn turned me away.”
“Which is not what happened at all,” Thorn says. “We were over romantically long before he even met Marcello.” He looks at Kyson. “My love, I hope this isn’t hard for you to hear.”
Kyson smiles, rubbing Thorn’s cheek. “Like you said, it was a long time ago. It’s fine.”
My chest tightens as more painful memories return. The fights, the desperation, the longing for this man to be my mate, all buried for years.
“It eventually came to a head as these things do. We had a fight because I blocked him from me while discussing some business with my brothers. Marcello decided to punish me and went out looking for someone to hurt me with. He wanted me to feel the jealousy that coursed through his veins.”
“He cheated?” Damiano asks.
“If only that was all,” Raphael says.
“What happened?” Damiano asks, the tension in his voice increasing. “What did Marcello do to you?”
“He gave his body to another vampire. He sent me his desire and pleasure, making sure I felt every moment. He allowed another to feed from him.”
“Fuck,” Damiano grits.
“But as painful as that was, it wasn’t what wounded me the most.” The pain of that night grips me, clouding the present with tortured images of what happened next. “The vampire wouldn’t let him leave. He enjoyed taunting me with his stolen prize. Marcello hadn’t counted on that. They attacked our coven, forced us to fight for Marcello’s honor, because his honor was mine. I made him. I loved him.”
Damiano nods, but he is simmering with anger.
“When it became clear to the coven leader that they would not win against us…” My words trail off, my eyes stinging with painful memories.
Damiano’s hand on mine centers me, drawing me back from losing myself in the trauma. “One of your brothers can tell me. Do not put yourself through this anymore.”
“I have to, Dami. I have to heal it before Hadrian can use it. You know how he can get in my head.”
Everyone moves around me, circling me and sending me the most amazing love and support. I can even feel Hale and Tiago’s support.
Thorn and Syn look ready to kill, and their emotions strengthen me in a strange way.
“They forced Marcello to his knees and held a dagger to his throat,” I continue. “He was given a choice. He could choose his loyalty to me and die, or he could join them and live.” I wring my hands together. “He chose to live.”
Damiano growls, his jaw twitching, but he continues to hold my hand.
“He couldn’t even look at me,” I whisper. “Couldn’t face me. I was ready to accept his choice, but…” I pause, exhaling. “The coven leader, Drake, said he would never allow someone whose loyalty was so fickle and selfish to join his coven, and he…he slashed Marcello’s throat while I looked on.”
“Gods,” Damiano says.
“His coven plunged their daggers into Marcello’s chest. They laughed as they left his wounded, bloodied body on the ground.”
“What did you do?” Damiano asks.
“I went to him, of course, surrounded by my brothers. He pleaded for his life, begged me to restore him, but it was as if I bore a dagger in my heart too. I knew we couldn’t come back from that. He had shown his heart to me, and it wasn’t mine. My brothers would never accept him again. I could never trust him.”
“Oh no,” Damiano whispers, squeezing my hand gently. “All the gods, Yves.”
“I told him I had truly loved him, and I would have kept him for eternity, but I knew then that he was not my intended. Not the man fate had sent me. That’s not how fate works, and if our love was so easily discarded by him just to play with my heart, then it was better to end it.”
I feel the hands of my brothers touching various parts of me while Damiano sends waves of love toward me.
“He begged me,” I whisper. “Promised he would be better. Or he would leave. Whatever I wanted. I briefly wondered if I could share a world with him where we were not together. I felt the pain of losing you, Dami, all over again, and though my feelings for him were far less, I knew I couldn’t. I couldn’t let him live a life with me or be happy without me. So I pulled the dagger from his heart. I kissed his cheek, his nose, his very pretty mouth, and I told him it shouldn’t have been like this. He had everything he wanted from me and he squandered it. Then I did it, Dami. I cut his throat until his head fell to the ground. Just before it was over for good, he squeezed my hand and he said…” Pain grips my chest all over again. “He said he never loved me, and he never would. He could only love himself, and I was ending his eternal pain.”
“He forgave you,” Dami says.
“No.” I shake my head. “He proved the doubt I carried that he ever wanted to be what we are. That he could ever truly love me. He wanted to be pretty and taken care of, he wanted his power over me, but he didn’t want a life with me. I made him and then I killed him with my own hands.”
