Page 114 of The Vampire's Claim


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“If something happens to me, then turn me. You don’t have to wait until the last second. Don’t take that risk.” The possibility of becoming a vampire no longer terrified her. It was something else she’d thought a lot about the last two days. “If it means I can spend more time with you, I’ll gladly become a vampire.”

The ferocious love sweeping through the mating bond from him to her took her breath away, so did his passionate kiss.

Then her stomach grumbled. Her face heated with embarrassment even as Julian chuckled. He didn’t laugh enough, she decided, and made a mental note to change that.

“I need some real food, I think.”

She slid off while Julian grabbed their picnic basket. It contained a small sandwich platter with a few different options, a box of fruit along with two slices of chocolate cake.

“How much did you think I can eat?” Leah picked out a half sandwich that looked like a BLT. The desert air was nippy, cooling her, and she was thankful when Julian took a blanket and wrapped it around them.

His sinful grin almost made her choke. He purred, “You’re going to need it.”

Oh, she didn’t doubt that.

Not at all.

Epilogue

Alistair’sheelsclickedonthe marble floor, the sound echoing in the vast, empty audience chamber. Tall, imposing columns made of the same gray-veined marble as the floor lined both sides of the hall. Though it was dark out, the room glowed an ethereal gray, like everywhere else on this godforsaken island.

It was a gray he both hated and loved. A gray that was a constant reminder of his failures, a gray that motivated him to stay alive and do the necessary.

If he tried hard enough, he could see the audience hall the way it used to be, with colorful flower vines and leaves wrapped around the columns. Tapestries full of riotous colors hung from the ceiling, changing every few weeks depending on his brother’s mood, and the open ceiling bathed the chamber in natural sunlight.

That was all gone now. Destroyed by the curse that trapped this place in perpetual twilight.

Even Alistair’s memories were fading with time.

He stopped before the steps. Three in total, they led up to a raised dais where three thrones used to be. Now, only one remained in the center, a monstrosity made of stone so black that it sucked in the surrounding light.

An ancient, primal power filled with hate and vengeance emanated from the throne.

On either side of it, about three feet away, the broken pieces of two destroyed thrones littered the floor, their white marble frozen in time like the rest of this place.

Before the thrones, a young woman, about twenty-five, lay prone on a dark gray stone altar. She wore a flowing purple dress, the only item of color in this tomb, whose sleeves spilled over the altar’s edges along with her luscious silver hair.

Soft gold light encased the altar in a circle. The light was thick around the edges and flowed as though alive. Pieces of it jumped off and re-formed around the circle, restless. It was almost blinding, unlike a thousand years ago when the light was a mere thin line.

His chest constricted with a familiar ache. Was this the right time? Had he done enough? He’d worked tirelessly, scouring the earth to find and bring together soulmates whose eternal love fueled the light.

Now, with Julian mated, it was strong enough to bring her back. Bring back Nina, his sister, whose soul, whose essence, had scattered into the wind when they’d defeated their brother.

He should be happy, excited at the prospect of reviving her after ten thousand years, but an oppressive weight hung over him like a storm cloud. There was no guarantee that they’d succeed this time, that it wouldn’t end like before.

Alistair.An oily presence, malevolent and hostile and mocking, touched his mind.

Alistair shied away. A pulse emitted from the black throne. Shadows gathered around it.

No, he couldn’t wait any longer.

With a sinking feeling in his gut, he walked up the stairs and touched the golden circle. The light flared and gathered in his hand. Magic flowed through him. A kind he hadn’t used in a long time.

The light flowed over his palm. Alistair redirected it to form a small, condensed ball.

Then he slammed it into Nina’s chest.

The room dimmed without the golden circle of light.

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