“Do not embarrass yourself, poppet.”
The pet name should have frozen me. It had frozen me for decades. My body remembered being under his control before my mind did. It remembered standing still while he moved me aside with two fingers, remembered the silence forced into my mouth. My body remembered obedience layered over terror until I could no longer tell which choices were mine.
But that had been before Conrad and the children. Before Billie hugged me even when my burns hurt. Before Bianca trusted me with questions too large for children. Before CJ winked at me across a dinner table and told me a twist was only as good as its setup, because it wasoursecret phrase. Before Conrad looked at me as if my monstrousness, once revealed, might not make me unlovable.
Bogdan lowered his mouth to Conrad’s throat.
That was when I moved. It was only one step, but it was a step in the right direction.
The pain was immediate and violent enough that I nearly vomited. My body tried to lock itself down, every nerve screaming against disobedience. Blood spilled hotter from my nose and dotted the front of my blouse.
One more step.
Bogdan stopped, his head turning in my direction. Something almost uncertain crossed his face.
Good. I wanted him to understand it. I wanted him to know exactly what was happening.
“You cannot,” he said.
The command in his words hit hard enough to stop me from moving. For one terrible second, I froze completely.
Conrad’s eyes opened. Somehow, even through his pain and his fear, there was still trust.
Conrad Lawrence had absolutely no reason to trust a vampire who had lied to him for months and endangered his family.
But he did. He trusted me.
I screamed again and tore forward. The world narrowed to fragments.
Bogdan’s startled snarl.
The children crying out.
The burn of silver somewhere under my foot as I crossed the scattered jewelry.
Conrad dropping hard to the floor when Bogdan released him.
The wooden stake lying near the base of the staircase.
I saw it. So did Bogdan. He lunged at me, but for once he wasn’t fast enough. He was still stronger than me, and the bond hadn’t vanished. The only weak point was his inability to truly believe I could choose against him.
I grabbed the stake. The wood fit into my hand with brutal simplicity.
Bogdan’s command slammed through my skull.
Stop.
I didn’t stop.
The pain became everything. My vision went white at the edges. My stomach heaved. My fangs cut into my lower lip hard enough that blood filled my mouth. I could feel the bond tearing, rippingthrough whatever part of me he had owned since that storming night on the island.
He reached for me, but I slipped behind him.
I drove the stake through his back with every ounce of strength, grief, rage, and love I had spent two centuries learning to bury.
Bogdan went still. Completely still. For a warped second, the entire house seemed to hold its breath, the violent chaos of the night instantly freezing into a terrifying vacuum of silence.
Slowly, his head turned toward me. The infinite, crushing weight of his attention fell over me one last time, but the monstrous composure he had worn like armor for centuries was gone. Instead, his gray eyes were wide—shattered by a profound, paralyzing disbelief.
