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She’d killed her father.
There weren’t any words to describe the warring feeling splitting her soul, but Flora pictured it like bobbing on the ocean; a wave would raise her up only to drop her on the other side, where she would land, hard, against a rocky surface.
Draven was the only thing keeping her from sinking beneath the waves. Her thoughts raced as he ran the shower and lifted her into the clawfoot tub. He tugged the blood-spattered nightgown still clinging to her slight frame over her head, leaving her in her bra and panties. Flora tugged the moonstone from around her neck and set it on the caddy. She stood under the hot spray as tears fell, blurring her vision. Sobs wracked her body.
She didn’t regret taking her father’s life. The bastard deserved it for everything he’d put her and her mother through. But the fact that she’d taken a life shook her. How easy it was for her to end his existence. Just a pull of a trigger. A flex of her finger. Is that what it would be like when she was a vampire?
She’d never considered how fragile life could be. And she was still human. As a vampire she’d be stronger, faster, a lethal weapon all on her own. The image of Draven ripping Petey’s head off flitted through her mind. She’d be able to do that. Blood would drive her all on its own, and that was without factoring in heightened emotions. Would she still value a life when she was immortal? Would her humanity shift so far that she wouldn’t think twice before taking one?
Her body crumbled beneath the weight of her thoughts, and she braced herself against the side of the tub as she slid toward the floor. Only the crash of her knees against the porcelain never came. Strong hands hooked beneath her arms and lifted her. Flora sucked in a sharp breath to force air into her lungs. She tipped her head up to stare into the emerald eyes of the man who’d protected her even though he didn’t have to.
Draven set her gently on the floor of the tub, pulled off his bloodied shirt and rinsed the remnants of his kill from his body. It only took seconds and then he tugged her against him. The warmth that radiated from his chest seeped into her, washing away the memory of what she’d done better than the scalding water. Draven dipped his forehead to hers and whispered, “I’ve got you.”
She needed him to have her. She wasn’t the badass bitch she was supposed to be. Not when the weight of the world was pressing on her chest.
Flora peered up at him through watered lashes and hiccupped past a sob. “Does it always hurt like this?”
Draven cupped her cheeks, washing away the blood that splattered them. “No. Eventually you become numb to it and realize you are doing the world a service.”
Flora closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. “But why do I feel like numbness gives way to indifference? I feel like I am drowning; but you seem to have a hold on yourself.”
“Do I?”
She opened her eyes just in time to see Draven cock a brow, and even though there was a lilt of playfulness in his voice, Flora sensed a hint of pain masked within.
“If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here protecting me.”
“Protecting you is a means to an end, Flora. It has nothing to do with my humanity and everything to do with our deal and the moonstone. I am who I am because I choose not to give into the side of me that would thrive in the darkness. I cling to my wolf, to my pack, and everything they stand for. They are my strength.”
“And when they’re gone?” Her voice quivered. The idea of Draven without Mateo and Kade didn’t sit well with her, but that didn’t make it any less real. The night kept smacking her with the reality of her future should she choose to be turned.
Draven heaved a sigh and pulled away from her. He trailed his hands up her arms and turned her around so her back was to him. Gently, he tugged the ponytail from her hair. “This is what I’ve been trying to tell you, Flora. Immortality isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Becoming a monster has its drawbacks.”
A bitter snapback danced on the tip of her tongue, but Flora held it back. She knew he wasn’t saying these things to be hateful, but that didn’t lessen the sting. He was right. There was so much more to consider than she’d ever allowed herself to. She didn’t have family that would miss her, or that she would mourn. If anything she’d found a family that would embrace her and provide her with the strength to carry on. The problem was she didn’t think she could live with the notion that she might become a murderer. The only man she wanted to see dead was lying in his own blood in the room next door.
That didn’t mean she hadn’t found strength in her actions. She had. Ridding the world of her father had felt exactly as Draven described it—like doing the world a service. But she didn’t want to become numb to the experience. She needed to continue to feel; to remember every emotion, good and bad, that led her to where she was.
Draven tangled his fist in her hair and tipped her head back. A soft moan fell from her lips as he silently washed her hair with eucalyptus-scented shampoo and conditioner. His hand massaged into her scalp and for just that moment, the weight of the monster she could become lifted.
It was hard to imagine him as a monster when he took care of her. It didn’t matter that she’d just witnessed him rip a man's head clear from his neck—there was so much more to Draven than he let any one person see. He cared deeply and fought with all he had to protect what was important to him. It didn’t matter that those he cared about might push him away, or disown him for what he was. Draven still did what he could to protect them, and he did it with all he had.
Flora wondered what it would be like to be someone he cared about. Her stomach erupted with flutters, but she quickly dismissed the thought. He’d literally just said it himself: she was the job.
She’d always been the job. Her father hadn’t seen her as more than a thing to be sold. The Culling was a job in and of itself—to be the perfect bride for a vampire prince. Now she was the job to Draven and Callum. Just a key they could use to find the moonstone and secure protection for Emery.
For the first time, everything she’d ever wanted was coming into question, and Flora wasn’t sure what she wanted to be or what came next.
She couldn’t deny she’d found her place in the world with the vampires, but it wasn’t the only life she could lead. With her father dead, she was free of the burden she’d carried for so long. She could live however she wanted. Callum would let her go, and Emery would understand.
Draven rinsed the last of the soap from her hair and turned her to face him. “What’s rolling around that pretty little head of yours?”
She was face to face with perfectly defined abs, and it registered she was standing in her underwear and he was wearing only low-slung sweats. She snapped her gaze to meet Draven’s, and clenched her thighs in an attempt to stop the heat that bloomed between her legs, but it was no use.
Draven inhaled, and she knew the moment he smelled her arousal because his eyes dilated. “I asked you a question.”
She waited for him to comment on her body’s reaction, but he didn’t. Swallowing past the golf ball in her throat, Flora struggled to put into words exactly what she was feeling. “I’m just not sure what I want anymore. The darkness scares me, but it also feels like an old friend. I don’t want to become a monster like him, but would it be so bad to be a monster like you?”
Draven sighed deeply and traced his fingers over her bare shoulder. “Monsters aren’t made. They are born, whether that be through birth or fang.”
