Chapter 45 The Phophecy

Chapter 45 The Phophecy
Thad finds me in the library a few hours after Rosalie falls back asleep.
I’m curled up in one of the leather armchairs, pretending to read a book about vampire territorial disputes. The words swim in front of my eyes. All I can think about is Rosalie’s pale face and the empty space she described where Edmund used to be.
“We need to talk,” Thad announces from the doorway.
“That’s never a good opening.”
He crosses the room and sits in the chair across from mine. In his hands, he holds a leather journal I don’t recognize. The cover is worn and cracked, and the pages are yellowed with age.
“This belonged to Jonathan. Gabriel found it hidden in a compartment beneath his floorboards.” He sets the journal on the table between us. “There are things in here you need to see.”
“More betrayal? More lies? I think I’ve had my fill for one week.”
“This is different.” He opens the journal and flips to a page near the middle. “Jonathan wasn’t just reporting your movements to the Primigenii. He was researching you. Your family history. Your bloodline.”
I set down my book. “My bloodline? I’m a marketing manager from Charleston. My family history includes a great-aunt who collected ceramic cats and a grandfather who fought in Korea. Nothing remotely interesting.”
“Your mother’s side. Her maiden name was Valdris.”
I scrunch my nose and ask, “So?”
“The Valdris line is one of the oldest human bloodlines connected to vampire history. They were protectors once. Guardians who worked alongside the ancient clans before the wars tore everything apart.” Thad turns another page. “Most people assume the line died out centuries ago. But according to Jonathan’s research, it didn’t. It went into hiding.”
“You’re saying I’m descended from some ancient guardian family?”
“The Primigenii believe you are. More specifically, they believe you carry a genetic mutation that hasn’t appeared in a living human for over four hundred years.”
I stand up because I can’t sit still anymore. My legs carry me to the window, where I stare out at the darkened grounds without really seeing them.
“What kind of mutation?”
“Jonathan’s notes don’t specify. But he references something called the Valdris Prophecy multiple times. The Primigenii have been searching for someone with this bloodline for centuries. When Menlow confirmed you carried the markers, they accelerated their plans.”
I spin around to face him. “Menlow knew about this? Before he attacked me?”
“He must have. The bar, the surveillance, all of it. It appears he wasn’t just gathering information about your habits. He was confirming your identity.”
My mind races through everything I know. Menlow watching me for weeks. The Primigenii sending Jonathan to spy on me. Viktor’s cryptic comments about me being more important than I realized.
“What does the prophecy say?”
Thad closes the journal and replies, “Jonathan didn’t include the full text. I suspect that was intention in case he was found out.”
“But you know it. Don’t you?”
He doesn’t answer.
“What does the prophecy say, Thad?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It absolutely matters. You just told me an ancient vampire clan has been hunting me because of some genetic mutation and a prophecy, and now you’re going to sit there and tell me the details don’t matter?”
“The prophecy is vague. Open to interpretation. Telling you would only—”
“Only what? Make me harder to control?”
His head snaps back like I’ve struck him. “That’s not what this is.”
“Isn’t it?” I stalk toward him with my hands balling into fists at my sides. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me since the day I woke up in this house. First it was the mate bond. Then it was Menlow. Now it’s some prophecy that apparently makes me the most valuable vampire in existence, and you still won’t give me the whole truth.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“From what? My own history? My own destiny?” I grab the journal from the table and flip through the pages. Jonathan’s handwriting is cramped and messy, but I catch fragments. Valdris bloodline. Genetic markers confirmed. The prophecy will be fulfilled. “This is my life, Thad. My blood. My family. You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle. You swore there would be no more secrets between us, Thad.”
“The prophecy speaks of power.” He stands and takes the journal from my hands. “Power that could reshape the balance between vampires and humans. If the Primigenii get their hands on you, they’ll use that power to enslave humanity. To turn humans into cattle.”
“And if you keep me? What then?”
“I keep you safe.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “I’m not safe, Thad. I’m a prisoner. A valuable asset you’re protecting because losing me would be inconvenient for your political position.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“Every time I think I understand what’s happening, you pull back another layer and reveal something worse underneath. First I was your mate. Then I was bait. Now I’m some prophesied weapon that everyone wants to control.” I back away from him. “When does it end? When do I get to just be me?”
“You are you. Nothing about the prophecy changes who you are.”
“You won’t even tell me what it says!”
“Because the words don’t matter. What matters is that the Primigenii want you, and I will die before I let them take you.”
“How noble. The great Thad Samford, protecting his precious bloodline asset.”
“You’re not an asset. You’re my mate.”
“I’m a pawn.” My voice breaks, and I hate it. I hate that he can still make me feel so much. “I’ve been a pawn since the moment Menlow walked into that bar. Maybe before that. Maybe my whole life has been building toward this moment where I become some cosmic chess piece in a game I never asked to play.”
“Thelma—”
“You should have let me die.”
Thad’s entire body goes still.
“You should have let me bleed out in that parking garage. Let Menlow finish what he started.” Tears stream down my face, and I don’t bother wiping them away. “At least then I would have died as myself. Not as some prophesied weapon. Not as anyone’s mate or asset or key to anything.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I mean every word.” I grab the door handle and yank it open. “I wish you’d let me die, Thad. And I wish I could stop wanting you long enough to hate you the way I want to.”