Chapter 82

Chapter 82
Dark energy erupted from the Alpha King as he seized the spear, brandishing it with terrifying strength. His hand, gripping the spear, held my death flame at bay, and a shimmering force field surrounded him, warding off my attack.

In a blur, White and Henry rushed toward their king, pulling him back as the vampires withdrew to my side.

My death flame surged forward, consuming most of the French shifters who had come to kill me and scorching a large section of the Asshole’s soldiers.

Warren’s power clashed against mine, each strike sending shockwaves through my body. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and a cold chill dampened my armpits. Against someone like him—a ruthless, experienced killer—I was a mere novice at harnessing my abilities.

"After everything I’ve told you, you still chose him—the monster who betrayed you?" Asshole roared.

“Surprise,” I shot back, forcing a cold smile, my voice strained from the effort. “King Jason Nollan might be a monster, but he’s my monster. He is my mate. And I am his bride. And tou’re not. Oh, and by the way? His dick’s way bigger and he’s hot.”

Jason shot me a look, his eyes brimming with raw emotion. We all knew that while my death flame had given us some time, it wouldn’t hold for long.

At that moment, an armored van screeched to a halt just a few feet from us.

“My woman goes in first,” Jason ordered, his voice unwavering.

Even though he was badly injured, Jason had always prioritized me, so I didn’t argue. I motioned for my friends to get in first, then followed them, pulling the Vampire King in beside me. He collapsed beside me, a gaping wound in his chest, blood pouring from the injury.

Before Faerry and White could enter and close the door, the driver slammed on the accelerator. Henry barely had time to settle into the passenger seat.

I unleashed my dark wind through the window, clearing a path through Warren’s forces, though I was running low on energy. Our convoy of vans sped out of the parking lot and onto the street, racing toward our escape.

Jason

My woman stared at the gaping wound in my chest, her once-beautiful face now as pale as paper. It saddened me to know she had to witness such a horrific sight.

She had chosen me, despite the warnings from her former lover about the kind of man I was, and the betrayal that had caused her a century of pain. Her unwavering loyalty was more than I deserved.

At this moment, all that mattered to me was her safety. My life no longer held significance—hers did.

“Drive straight to Shangrilla,” I commanded, forcing myself to ignore the searing pain that spread from my chest through every fiber of my being.

Once there, from my most secure fortress, we would regroup. I’d send my bride away to Europe. The war was going to be fought on this continent, and I needed her as far from the epicenter as possible.

“No, we’ll go to Crollitia first,” my bride countered firmly. “The combined forces of shifters and witches will follow us all the way to Shangrilla. We don’t have the manpower there either, so it won’t make a difference. What we can do is get King Nollan back to full strength as soon as possible, and we can do that in the Crollitia port. I have a plan to make it happen.”

A flush of pink returned to her cheeks, banishing the pallor.

“What Lady Ollivara suggests makes sense, my king,” Ronald added, his ivory wings shifting behind him. “You need to regain your strength before we can move. Every inch of the Crollitia fort is warded, and we should be able to hold off a siege.”

Emmalyn agreed as well. My warriors had seen the extent of my bride’s power in the past, and none of them would ever underestimate her. The same couldn’t be said for the shifters, who had once considered Ollivara the lowest of their kind.

“Make it so,” I ordered.

I couldn’t argue with my bride. To keep her by my side, I had to treat her as my equal, to nurture her. But when it came to her safety, I would have the final say. I already had a plan to get her out of the war zone, and no matter what, she wouldn’t change my mind.

It was frustrating that the war had begun earlier than I expected, but war, like time, waits for no one.

Ollivara leaned in closer, brushing her silky blue hair aside. Her intoxicating scent overwhelmed my senses. I wanted nothing more than to hold her, to reassure her that everything would be all right. But I was too weak to comfort her. My life force was slipping away, blood continuing to pour from the wound in my chest.

My Bride offered her exposed neck. “Drink,” she said.

“I—”

“It’s not a request,” she hissed, steel in her voice. “Now, Nollan.”

I liked how she said my surname in a stern tone, exactly as my Bride would say it. I could no longer fight my hunger and craving for her. After I drank from her last time, I wouldn’t want to take blood from anyone else. My fangs slid out, piercing her soft, warm skin.

What had I done to deserve her? I’d only caused her grief, but I had a lifetime to make it up to her if I survived this.

Her blood rushed onto my tongue, soothing me and anchoring me.

My Bride, my eternal sunshine.

She hadn’t been the sunshine I’d hoped for when she’d first walked into my world, naked, glorious, and stunningly beautiful.

She hadn’t known what she was and hadn’t had a name. Yet she’d blindly trusted me and revealed her secrets, as she knew what she meant to me.

I had always existed as I was—the first of my kind. I wasn't created or born; I simply was—the Vampire King. Then, the Fates decided I should have a Bride, and she appeared. From the moment I encountered her, I knew she was my mate. Her scent resonated deeply within me, her blood called to me as though it belonged to me.

But she had been far too young. She shared with me her strange and fragmented memories: one moment, she was an infant in a cradle drifting on the ocean, and the next, a seven-year-old girl falling into the sea. She hadn't drowned, though. Instead, she had walked ashore, and over the days that followed, guided by an unseen force, she traveled toward me. By the time she stood before the gates of my castle, she appeared to be in her twenties.

I wanted her. I craved her. But despite the maturity of her body, she was still just a child in spirit. So, I decided to wait—wait until she was fully an immortal, mature in both body and mind. I named her Ollivara.

She had no understanding of where she came from, and in her confusion, she clung to my dark nature, for I was the closest thing she had known. But then, her thirst for blood surfaced, and no matter how hard I tried to teach her restraint, her hunger always overwhelmed her.

She became Death itself. Wherever she went, no life was spared. After draining the life from three villages of innocent humans, I had no choice but to imprison her. Though I provided her with comfort, it was still a prison.

I had one rule for my subjects—feeding was necessary, but taking life was never done lightly. We were meant to coexist with mortals, not eradicate them.

But Ollivara broke every rule. She couldn’t see beyond her own cravings. She was too young to understand, and even her need for me couldn’t stop her from destroying everything around her.

When I restrained her, she retaliated by breaking free, draining half my vampire court, and then killing an entire human town. She was utterly out of control. The power within her had taken hold, and her thirst consumed her.

She became a nightmare. Yet, despite all that had happened, I still wanted her. I still craved her, even as I hated her for the lives she had taken.

In the end, I had to make a choice.

If I didn’t stop her, no one could. It nearly shattered me, but I chose the survival of civilization and my species over her—the one being who was meant for me.

She was my weakness, and I was hers. Only my venom could hold her at bay.

So, I set a trap. I promised her that she could drink from my court, that I would be entirely hers. And I lied, telling her that after joining her in her feast, I would finally claim her as my Bride.

She harbored resentment toward me, thinking my refusal to claim her meant I didn’t desire her. She had no idea how hard it was for me to hold back. Her body had matured completely, and her need for me was constant.

I took advantage of her trust, her longing, to ensnare her. I bit her for the first time, drinking from her. That was the moment I tasted sunshine, even though she was Death incarnate.

She was like all that was brutal in nature—unable to distinguish good from evil, without a conscience.

She was anger, lightning, and death.