Chapter 153 Victor

Chapter 153 Victor

❦ Nikolai ❦ 

My bride is a goddess in her own right.
I watched, stunned, as Maeve’s porcelain pale skin paled further. Whitened, like bleached silk.
Her limbs swelled as the shift overtook her. Her dress tore, silvery white fur bursting from her chest, elbows, hips.
It was an incomplete wolf shift—she still stood bipedal, regal and intimidating in every way.
My heart swelled in my chest to witness such beauty.
Then it struck me. This was her first ever shift. I was honored to be witnessing it.
Her normally crimson eyes blew bright red, glowing like live coals in her head. Fangs sharpened and lengthened. Was that a tail curling up from behind her?
Her beauty was savage, almost predatory, pulling at something deep in me.
Then she screeched, the sound a mix of a roar and a hiss.
Maeve lunged for the female wolf who’d been antagonizing her, her white cloud of hair streaming behind her.
Carmela had already shifted into a pitch-black wolf, her transformation swift. Her height matched Maeve, but against my bride, she was sorely outmatched. 
She foolishly snarled at Maeve’s hybrid form, crouching low to the ground to pounce.
But my bride was a crimson royal, intoxicated with the curse of wrath. Overpowered by a half-wolf ancestry.
She’d tear her opponent apart without a second glance.
I had to protect Maeve from herself.
Suddenly, a wolf bigger than Carmela, dusty brown and shaggy, sprang for Maeve without warning. Leif.
I grabbed my bride around the waist, pulling her from the line of attack. At the same time, Bastian backhanded Leif’s wolf, snarling in warning—
Maeve clawed my arms like a rabid beast, fighting to free herself from my hold.
“Calm, Milaya, the message has been received—”
Maeve traced.
Jaw slack, I watched her reappear directly in front of Carmela with her leg bent backward.
She kicked the wolf into the stone wall.
The fortress trembled from the impact, the wall caving around the wolf. Carmela slid to the ground with a heavy thud, trailing blood.
But she rose immediately, charging once more for Maeve.
Maeve grabbed the wolf by the scruff, her claws shredding its skin. She raised the flailing, snarling wolf high, then flared the claws of her other hand.
She was going to gut Carmela.
“Maeve, stop this!” Bastian bellowed as he tried to hold Leif off without killing him.
I traced behind Maeve. No time to reach her with words. No time to rethink this decision.
With both hands cupping her head, I snapped my bride’s neck.
Maeve’s body crumpled to the ground.
Carmela’s wolf, released, whimpered a hasty retreat with its tail between its legs.
Leif’s wolf remained. He snarled at Maeve’s still body in my arms, eyes burning a molten gold.
“Try it, and experience the fate your woman just escaped,” I said.
Leif turned around. Good choice.
“What the hell did you do, leech?” Bastian was at my throat, gaze dark with the promise of death.
“What was necessary. She would’ve killed that wolf, damning herself. Do you want your witch to kill her alongside your alpha?”
He released my throat, snatching Maeve’s body from me.
I bristled, but maintained my calm.
As Bastian walked back to his rooms in this archaic stone keep, Maeve detransitioned. Fur receding, claws lightening. Her body shrank back to its normal proportions, that fluffy tail disappearing inch by inch.
I would miss that tail.
Suddenly, Bastian stopped walking. “Why are you following me?”
“She’s my female. I will see her well.”
“And just how will you do that?” he snapped, back turned.
“Deliver her to a private area before we have this argument, wolf,” I gritted, holding back anger. “She’s naked in a corridor soon to be prowling with more eyes.”
He didn’t respond. Just stood still, heaving breaths. When he’d reined in his anger enough, he continued on.
I could’ve just traced my bride to her rooms, but the wolf was a master at upending even the most basic of intentions.
On the walk through the werewolf fortress, my mind reeled.
When I’d first believed Maeve was immune from the curse, I was relieved. I hadn’t even harbored ill feelings for her cursing me.
No affliction was incurable. 
That thought had carried me this far. Killing witches, fighting off the worst of it.
I stared ahead at the wolf, his arms wrapped protectively around her.
He was undoubtedly under intense pressure. To accept her, defend her from his pack, and from himself.
Perhaps his uncertainty would push her right back into my arms. But to what end?
She wanted him, and would forever pine for the wolf she left behind. If she ever could.
Bastian kicked open the large oak doors to his chambers, striding to the bed to lower her down.
Any residual guilt from snapping her neck faded away.
If she’d killed Carmela, the pack would’ve hankered for her head. Her status notwithstanding.
Tomorrow, their alpha would be dead, the amulet destroyed.
But that left the curse to contend with. My bride would never live a full life with that darkness ruling her every impulse.
How she’d managed it for this long was impressive. But she’d succumbed in the end.
She desperately craved acceptance from this pack. But she would never fit in. Not with a curse that called for the heads of “enemies.”
Bastian and I stood on opposite sides of the bed, staring down at her still form.
Then suddenly, the answer came to me.
My lips pulled back in a grim smile.
“What exactly are you smiling about?” Bastian grated.
I ignored him, my heart slowing with sudden clarity. 
What use was immortality if a vampire would spend it witnessing his mate in pain?
I’d snapped her neck, killing her. But as an immortal, she couldn’t die short of a beheading. She was dormant, and would come back to life within minutes, drawing breath.
I couldn’t carry out my intentions while she was awake.
The bed dipped as I sat, my claws whispering over her still face.
My fangs ached in anticipation, despite the bleakness of the situation.
A growl unfurled from behind me. Deep and lethal.
“I know of a way to save her,” I told the simmering wolf, “but you’ll have to be a willing participant.”
“What are you saying?”
I gently maneuvered her body into a sitting position against the headboard. Then I motioned for Bastian to sit on her opposite side.
“You tempt my rage, leech. Explain yourself.”
I cupped Maeve’s nape with a trembling palm, my gaze locked on her ethereal face. Thick blonde lashes tipped her lids like feathers. Her full lips pale in death.
“I will drain every last drop of the cursed blood from her veins. And you, wolf, will feed her yours.”
The wolf looked staggered by my statement.
“Are you certain it will work?”
“99%,” I admitted, “but we don’t have a choice.”
“You could worsen it within you.”
“It won’t matter.” I glanced up at him. “I’ll greet the sun.”
Bastian’s hard gaze… softened.
My neck suddenly heated, confusion lashing me.
I’d assumed he’d be ecstatic at my proclamation. But the wolf’s eyes burned with something akin to… pity?
And respect.
Uncomfortable, I said bitterly, “Turns out you’re the victor, wolf.”
Turning back to my bride, I sank my fangs down to the hilt.