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There was no pain in the afterlife, only darkness. I could hardly catch my breath as I sat up, emptiness hollowing through me. The taste of ash hit my tongue when I gasped, drawing in the thick, hot air. Endless black surrounded me as I laid on rubble.
“Hello?” I found my voice. Slowly, I stood, ready for the wooziness that never came. I wiggled my fingers which were no longer grasped by Sebastian's.
I touched the skin where Sebastian had bitten me, but the flicker of touch sent no sensation into my skin. Everything felt less here. My breaths and steps were all lighter, and the sensations that generally accompanied them were gone.
“The gods,” I whispered, hoping they could hear me in this dark place, unless… Had I accidentally gone to the underworld? Or perhaps Kalon had given me the poison to keep me here. Maybe he’d fed it to Sebastian, and it was in his blood?
I looked around, my mouth drying as I realized this might be the hell that awaited me.
“Seraphina,” a voice cut through the emptiness, icing into me. No one called me that except my father.
“Yes.” I swallowed thickly.
The horizon transformed. I stumbled back, hitting the trunk of a tree. The bark of the branches glimmered like gold under the now blaring sun, spreading warmth and light over me. Grass stretched out to rolling hills, the sky the brightest blue. A babbling brook sounded close by, and birds tweeted in the trees. I recalled seeing this place before, but where?
It flooded back to me. This was like the scene depicted on the stained-glass window in the chapel in the castle.
“Welcome, Seraphina,” a woman spoke. She stepped out from nowhere, as if she was space itself. “I am Vaneria.”
I froze on seeing her, feeling like I was trapped in a dream. Her blonde waves fell like silk down to her naked breasts. Looking into her eyes was like staring at the night sky, crafted from stardust. Her skin shone as if she was bathed in moonlight. I’d never seen someone move with such grace, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away. A thin piece of fabric hung from her wide hips, slitting down one leg.
“You’re beautiful,” I said, blinking slowly.
Her smile was infectious, and I smiled back with a lightness in my heart, as if I’d known her forever. Then I realized—my soul knew her. She was a goddess, and in my blood ran hers.
She reached me, her delicate fingers lightly touching my chin, lifting my face as she examined me. Nothing in her expression evoked fear. In fact, I was quite at peace standing in these gardens with her.
She is a goddess.My brain reminded me, and I dropped to one knee, bowing my head. The grass cushioned my legs, the smell of wildflowers faint, but pleasant in the warm air.
“It is an honor,” I managed, through a raspy breath.
“Rise.” Her melodic voice was the pleasant sound I had heard in a long time. “The last time I saw a mortal was your father.”
“You don’t see them often?”
She glanced at the sky, a small smile spreading over her full, pink lips. “Mortal souls move on. We do not disturb their peace. Vampires go to the underworld. We remain here.”
A familiarity settled in my stomach. Her scent, floating between cinnamon and vanilla, intoxicated my senses, and I could see why she was referred to as the goddess of love. Everything about Vaneria made me feel warm, like butterflies were swirling in my torso.
“Don’t worry,” she said with a knowing smile, “it’s a normal reaction. Any mortal would feel the same way.”
I gulped, feeling a little unnerved by how easily she read me. “I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, forgetting every scenario I’d imagined in my head of what this would be like. No fantasy compared.
Several paces behind her, two men appeared from nowhere, stepping out from a slit in space. The first thing I noticed about the taller of the two was his size. He was a mountain of pure muscle, his body rippling as he approached me. My jaw dropped, and I tilted my head.
Long, dark hair hung down to his chest, glistening as if he had just stepped out of a river. Eyes which reminded me of midnight met mine. I couldn’t help but stare at his tattooed arms and the sides of his torso, depicting various scenes cemented in ethereal history.
I’d heard so many stories of the infamous Laveniuess, and now here he stood, in front of me, his shadow casting over Vaneria and me. Next to him, Jaiunere moved with a quick grin, a twinkle of mischief in his golden eyes. His skin appeared as if he had been kissed by the sun, his hair a tangle of tight curls. It was as if he had been crafted from the beauty of laughter, music, and art.
Laveniuess moved differently, slower, with purpose. His melody was different, crafted from a place of deep longing and loneliness. Being in his presence was like looking at a mirror, my inner demons reflected at me.
Each of them evoked a different concoction of emotions. Laveniuess was the first to speak, his voice a low, husky growl. “You are Seraphina, the future of Sanmorte.”
I bowed to him and then Jaiunere, my heart feeling like it was in my throat. “I cannot find the words to express how honored I am,” I repeated similarly, because I genuinely did not know what to say. They were the embodiment of everything that drove me as a mortal; desire, love, kindness, humor, happiness, anger, vengeance, and every other feeling.
Vaneria placed her hand on my shoulder, sending a ray of heat into my body, calming my nerves. Around us, chairs materialized, as if they’d been there all along. I sat on one, crafted from gold, and basked in the serenity Vaneria had given me.
“You are an Empath,” she stated, and I nodded. “It is a beautiful gift.”
