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Flora’s bodyfell to the ground in slow motion. Her hair billowed, her minty scent flooding his senses, making it hard to breathe. No, it wasn’t her scent that made his throat close and his heart stop in his chest; it was the awkward angle of her neck and her lifeless eyes.
No.
This wasn’t happening.
His wolf whined in his chest, the sound tearing at Draven’s soul.
She was supposed to run.
Draven launched himself toward her, catching her up in his arms. He raked his eyes over her still form, searching for something, anything that would give him a sign that she wasn’t gone. She couldn’t be gone. Her chest couldn’t stop rising, her eyes couldn’t be vacant blue orbs staring at the moon above them. Flora couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t. She was his life. His future. She was going to lead the pack with him and hold his hand in the car while driving way too fast. She was going to be the mother of his children. He couldn’t fucking lose her.
He dipped his head and bit into her neck, sending his venom into her. He thought back, trying to remember if she’d bitten him again when they’d last fucked, and he prayed she did and the tiny drop of blood that had been drawn from her dull human teeth would be enough.
“I’m sorry, Draven. But she has to be mine for you to succeed,” Rieka whispered. He hadn’t realized that she’d moved to stand behind him. It could have been seconds or minutes, but it didn’t matter.
“Yours?” he spat, whipping his head toward the Goddess who had done nothing but fucked with their lives. “If you think I am going to let you anywhere near her, you are certifiably insane. You are the reason she’s dead. The reason she will never see the sun again.”
A single tear fell down Rieka’s cheek, and he wanted nothing more than to dash it from her smug face. She didn’t get to cry. She didn’t get to mourn his mate. Not when she was the reason Flora was lying lifeless in his arms. Draven was torn with the need to curl up beside Flora and die with her and the overwhelming urge to commit a murder. Then again, going against a Goddess would likely end in his death so maybe he could do both.
“Make her one of mine,” Rieka whispered.
“I told you that you have no claim to her. Not anymore.”
“Make her one of mine,” Rieka repeated, this time with more emphasis as if she was waiting for Draven to catch up.”
Make her one of mine.
Rieka’s words sank in, their meaning wrapping around his heart. “You mean…?” He didn’t dare hope. It was nearly impossible. In his nearly hundred years, he only knew of one successful turning and prior to that it had been centuries. He shook his head, shoving back the hope that bubbled. “I can’t risk her life.”
“She survives,” Rieka reassured him, breaking the hold on the wall he’d put between himself and the hope he’d see her smile again. “Your venom is changing her as we speak, so long as you make her mine before she is turned, she will survive. And when she does, she will be your greatest ally.”
Draven looked from Flora’s pale features to the Goddess who offered him a promise. “You better be telling the truth, because if you aren’t, fates be damned, I will kill you myself. Goddess or not.”
“Save that fire for your future.”
Draven turned back to where Flora lay, color draining from her puffy pink lips. The transition had already started, and he wanted nothing more than to breathe color back into her lifeless features. She wasn’t supposed to be like him, vampire or wolf, but if it was the only way he’d get her back, then he’d do whatever the hell it took.
He closed his eyes and searched for his wolf who had curled up in his chest, silent and broken from the lost connection to his mate. Draven could feel his need to howl at the moon in grief, but the anger at the Goddess who’d ripped him in two was too great to even consider giving her his sorrow. The wolf wanted her human, just as Draven did. He’d fallen in love with her soul. Her essence. But Draven didn’t give a damn what his grouchy old wolf wanted. He just wanted his Luna.
She can be ours again, but I need your help. I need you to bring her back with me.
His wolf let out a soft whine.
Please.Draven begged.
The shaggy wolf uncurled his body and let out a howl of grieving. It was his tribute to the woman who would forever own his heart. Draven clutched his chest and if he wasn’t already on his knees, the sound would have forced him to them.
His wolf rose within him, and Draven didn’t need to call him forward. He pushed his presence to the forefront, and Draven’s clenched fist sprouted dark fur. As he unfurled his fingers, they stretched until sharp claws appeared.
Draven raked his gaze over Flora’s still form. “I’m so sorry, Bubbles. I hope you can forgive me for taking this choice from you.”
Not only would she be a vampire and lust for blood that was not hers, she would be like him—a wayward, lost in the cracks of the supernatural world. At least for the time being. Because he would never let her be hidden in the shadows. Her light was too bright to be shut away. She always said it was him who would bring forth the change for hybrids, but in that moment he knew it wasn’t true. It would be her, and he would be her humble servant. She would lead at his side, and he would be her protector.
If she survived.
His hands shook as he ripped apart the makeshift fur tunic Flora wore and exposed her chest.
Fuck, he didn’t want to do this.
