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Or maybe not.

“You think you deserve her?” Skarde says. I try to roll over, to attempt to get away, but he just raises his foot and steps on my chest, pressing down until I can’t breathe, until it feels like he’s going to pop my lungs and heart. “You deserve nothing, Kaleid. The bride belongs to the king. Do you call yourself a king? You’re just a feeble half-human who will never amount to anything.”

“I’m someone,” Kaleid snarls, stepping right up to his father and getting in his wretched face. “I’m the king now and forever. And Lenore belongs to me.”

Skarde stares at him for a moment before he bursts out laughing, a hollow, sickening sound. “What has gotten into you?”

“This,” Kaleid says.

And, in the blink of an eye, I see Kaleid pull a witch’s blade out of his pocket, the silver wrapped in blue electricity.

Skarde stares down at it in shock, the sight not registering.

Then Kaleid drives the blade into Skarde’s heart.

Skarde screeches, an inhuman sound that fills the space, fills my ears, echoes inside of my head, and Kaleid keeps his eyes burning on him.

“As I said, I’m the king,” Kaleid seethes, staring right into his father’s eyes as Skarde drops to his knees, mouth open in a now-silent scream. “Now and forever.”

I watch in awe as Skarde reaches for the knife, his hand wrapping around the handle, but he can’t pull it out. All he can do is hold on, staring at his son in horror and shock at the ultimate betrayal.

I scramble to my knees, then my feet, standing over Skarde as he falls back, his head smacking against the stone floor. He stares up at nothing, his body starting to change back to his handsome self, and then he goes completely still, the glowing blue knife sticking out of him.

“Is he…?” I ask, shaking my head, not trusting any of this. “Is he dead?”

Kaleid nods slowly, his eyes still locked on his father’s body. “I hope so.”

“That was a witch’s blade,” I say. “Only a slayer can use it to kill a vampire.”

Kaleid finally looks at me, his mouth curving in surprise. “Unless you have magic,” he says. “Black magic.”

A chill runs through me. It shouldn’t. I should be elated, happy that Skarde is actually, finally dead. That I’m safe and free, that the world is safe, that we accomplished what we set out to do.

But I don’t feel any of those things.

I feel nothing but a growing sense of dread, like the rug is about to be pulled out from under me.

“Why do you have that blade?” I whisper. “Who gave it to you?”

“I did, my child,” Jeremias’ voice booms.

I whip around to see the silhouette of my estranged father in the doorway to the rest of the ruins.

Behind him, in the light, are the Dark Order. They flank Jeremias, filling the crumbling courtyard with their red cloaks and hidden faces.

“Jeremias,” I say, that cold intensity inside me building.

He walks through the door, the Dark Order walking single file behind him. They keep coming in the room, filling all the dark space, hundreds of them, all staring at me. I can feel the hate and madness rolling off of them. They know what I did to their kind.

Something tells me I’m going to have a hard time doing it again.

But I can at least try.

“Don’t even bother,” Kaleid says to me snidely. “You won’t get anywhere now.” He comes over, grabbing my arm and pulling it toward him and then, before I can even move, even scream, he’s sinking his teeth into my arm, tearing through my flesh and drinking my blood. I punch at him, shrieking, trying to get away, but his grip is strong and then he’s holding me around the waist, biting my neck now, the pain spreading through me, the blood running down in rivers between my breasts, soaking the dress.

“I told you that you would be instrumental in helping defeat Skarde,” Jeremias says, stopping at the base of the steps, not caring that Kaleid is feeding on me. “I told you a man would come for you.”

“You set me up!” I scream, feeling myself growing weaker and weaker. I try to look at Kaleid, to meet his eyes, but he’s lost to the blood lust.

“I didn’t set you up to fail, though,” Jeremias says, folding his hands in front of him. “You can join us. Become Kaleid’s princess, the daughter of the king.”

If I had any strength left, I’d ask a bunch of questions. Like how on earth do either of them think this will work, a witch and a vampire ruling together? But I’m starting to fade, my knees buckling, and then I’m on the floor beside the body of Skarde, his blue unblinking eyes staring at the red sky.

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