Chapter 154 Love In Death

Chapter 154 Love In Death
☽ Bastian ☽

My beast, usually restless when witnessing the leech around my mate, was quiet.

I stood frozen, watching Nikolai sink his glinting fangs into Maeve’s pale neck.

He groaned with pleasure at the taste of her blood. Yet, no burning sensation flared in my chest.

Would the vampire really do this? The realization filled me with shame. Made me feel inadequate.

My gut boiled. Suddenly, I yearned to be the one in that position. The one to drain her of an inherited curse. To die for her.

Earlier, I’d felt ashamed of her hybrid nature. Dwelling on how the pack would see me if I accepted her.

Nikolai opened his eyes, still sucking, and gave me a pointed look.

I swallowed.

Then climbed into bed with my dead mate and her vampire lover.

Her skin paled until it greyed, wrinkling the more Nikolai took.

I shuffled closer and raised my wrist toward her lips, anticipating the moment she would reanimate, fighting for survival.

If I couldn’t die for her, at least I would feed her. I’d give her what she neededand more—

Her jaw dropped open, her thin throat gasping for air. One arm rose, flailing blindly.

Without hesitation, I slashed my wrist with a claw, pressing the fresh wound to her trembling lips.

She latched on immediately, claws sinking into my flesh in desperation.

Nikolai released her neck, gazing down at her with a shuttered expression.

When her Crimson venom leaked into me—her lack of control bleeding through, I shuddered, the thought of dying for her both terrifying and exhilarating.

Then the fear twisted into a sharp bolt of pleasure, igniting my chest and racing through my loins.

I ignored it, focusing on feeding her, holding her frail body against mine as she drank and drank.

Nikolai stepped off the bed, his eyes dark.

“Why would you do this?” I asked, voice slurring.

“If she dies, I die. Isn’t it better to ensure one of us lives, then?”

I had no words. Respect. Appreciation.

He straightened his shirt, as if having completed a task. “After she feeds, she should completely recover and awaken in less than a few hours.”

With one last look at the female in my arms, Nikolai whispered, “Tell her she is a force. Valued and loved. My only regret is not living to see the world she ushers forth.”

He didn’t wait for acknowledgement.

The vampire vanished.

Immediately, dread prickled my skin.

Maeve loved Nikolai. Even I couldn’t deny the uncomfortable fact.

Would the depth of her love for him break her mind? Could she overcome this loss?

Panic made my mind reel. We could’ve found a cure for the curse, avoiding this. 

But the witch Leif contracted would arrive tomorrow to put down Mordane.

No.

There hadn’t been enough time. Sunrise was in less than a couple of hours. I wouldn’t have been able to protect Maeve from that sentence without tearing the pack apart.

A wave of dizziness flashed through me, along with a sickening realization.

Even though I’d won Maeve, I hadn’t ‘won’ her. She’d been given. By a leech I’d always wanted to eliminate.

And still, she sucked. Long, hard drags that tapered with every pull.

Then it slowed, and I realized it was because my flesh was regenerating.

I decided to reopen the wound, guiding my arm back. At the sudden loss of contact, she went limp.

Panic flared in my chest, but then I saw her chest rising and falling. Color bloomed back into her skin, and her hair shimmered anew.

I exhaled roughly.

The worst had passed.

Long moments passed before I could extract myself from her side, resting her body in a comfortable position.

She slept, as though she hadn’t just been overcome by a curse, then killed. Drained to the bone—and then fed.

Nikolai was right. She was a force.

And I was privileged to have her.

I probed her mind, satisfied to see the bond intact. Once she awoke, I would know, and she’d be able to call for me.

As much as I’d rather remain by her side, I had a pressing duty to fulfill.

I had to visit my uncle, Alpha Mordane, before his execution.

I closed the doors behind me, walking briskly to the iron cell.

The thick, mystically enforced bars stood between me and a once-mighty alpha.

He was in the same position we’d left him—sitting cross-legged, hands clasped, eyes closed.

His breathing was calm, his mind closed off to the mind link that should’ve bonded us.

“This is your last chance, uncle. Choosing the crimson amulet means choosing death.”

No reaction. No response.

It was like speaking to a wall.

My teeth grinded. Patience.

“A feral vampire threat didn’t move you to choose your pack. To choose me. Neither did a planned coup. Will you lay down your life just for the intoxicating effect of a crimson’s essence?”

I grasped the bars, my chest stinging with emotion.

“I’ve tasted crimson vampire essence. For a time, I was a vampire hybrid. Not like you with the transfer from the amulet. Or my mate, born of a vampire mother. I ingested the blood without the catalyst of death, and still I experienced the full raw power of that combination.”

My head bowed. “Still, it’s not worth it.”

Then I collected myself, stepping back from the cage.

“Your beta, Leif, seems confident he will inherit your throne. But even a babe just born understands I rank higher. By virtue of my blood, by virtue of my commitment to this pack. I will further our legacy with my crimson mate by my side—even though you would seeth to have a daughter of Lyssa, the crimson wraith ruling the pack—“

“Lyssssa?”

I stilled.

My gaze trailed slowly up his body, to his face.

Mordane’s eyes were open.

He’d never uttered words while in that feral state before, his fangs permanently protruded, eyes blazing red and wild.

But he’d spoken.

The alpha had spoken. Hope.

The metal clanged as I gripped the bars, my voice urgent. “Take the damned amulet off. Or you die.”

“Lyssssa?” He repeated in a drawling hiss, as though he’d forgotten how to speak.

“Yes. My mate is Lyssa’s daughter. But she is loyal to the pack. Take the sodding amulet off, and let’s talk.” Sweat beaded on my skin.

Gods, let him listen. Let him choose us. The pack. Me.

“Lyssa.” His speech sounded clearer.

Instead of the hate I’d expected to punctuate that name, he sounded expectant. Interested.

He slowly rose to his feet. Mordane rose to his fucking feet.

My hands trembled.

“Release me.”

“Not a frigging chance with that amulet around your neck, uncle. Take the cursed thing off!”

I watched, disbelieving, as alpha Mordane slipped the heavy gold chain and its crimson essence… off his neck.