After getting the all-clear, I race into the emergency room and find Derrick lying in one of the beds looking pale and exhausted while Wyatt holds his hand and affectionately strokes his hair. Seeing Derrick like this makes my chest ache. Why the fuck didn’t I think to grab my shit before leaving the club? “I’m so, so, so sorry,” I chant, rushing over and enveloping Derrick in a big hug, but being careful with the pressure. “I forgot my bag at the club last night and didn’t get it back till this morning. I came right over as soon as I saw the texts. How are you feeling? What’s wrong?” I ask with rapid-fire, pulling back to look at him. “I was starting to worry about you; you never go anywhere without your phone and after what Wyatt said…” says Derrick, looking me over searching for something. I look between them, Wyatt avoiding eye contact. “Why the fuck are you worrying about me? You’re the one in hospital. What happened?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding his hand

As I continue to serve customers, I can’t wipe the smile from my face. I thought it was already so sweet of Jartre to send me flowers, but to realise how much thought and meaning went into choosing them... It just makes me love them even more. I’m feeling like I’m on cloud nine, but that feeling vanishes faster than a married man's wedding ring at a brothel when I look up and see Mitchell in the crowd, headed my way. “Oh, what in gay hell,” I say in exasperation. “Hey, this place isn’t gay hell, it’s gay heaven,” Cassandra corrects me. “It was, until Rosemary’s Baby walked in,” I say, jutting my head towards Mitchell. Cassandra looks over, her amber eyes hardening as she spots Mitchell. “Want me to put dirty dishwater in his drink?” I deliberate on that for a second. “Very tempting. I might take you up on that.” “I got you, girl,” she says with a wink just as Mitchell walks up to the bar. “Hey Gabbie,” he says with a warm smile. My stomach churns uncomfortably but I manage to c

Bolts of lightning strike through the celestial sky of my home realm as I continue to let out all my rage. Clouds of colour that put the Aurora Borealis to shame, roll in in greater numbers as each electric-charged bolt hits the vast slick, rainbow ocean below. Every muscle in my body is clenched with tension, my teeth grinding against each other on the brink of shattering as Gabriella’s minty eyes plague my mind once again. The hurt, the disgust… they will stay with me for all eternity. How could she stand there fighting to save someone who had betrayed her so deeply? Not to mention humans are Petri dishes for viruses and sexually transmitted diseases. That little parasite could have so easily infected her without a fucking care, leaving her dead or dying. I could heal her, of course, but that’s not the fucking point! How can she defend someone so heinous?! But to say I assaulted her or attempted to… those words will haunt me greater than any demon that lives in the recesses of my m

I walk around to the other side of my kitchen counter and pull up a stool as I take a long sip of wine, then let out a long, deep exhale. “So, why does my animai feel he has a right to erase my ex like he’s a mistake on a math test?” “Did you know you are only Jartre’s second relationship?” they ask, placing a deep dish in the oven. I pause with my glass to my lips. “Come again.” They wash their hands and turn around, leaning back against the opposite counter. “The last and only other time Jartre was in love was thirty-thousand years ago.” I skull down half my glass of wine in shock and place the glass down, staring at Ezillus in disbelief. “How is that even possible?! How does someone live for so long and have no other relationships?!” I shriek. “Finding someone to fuck is one thing, but how many would so easily accept what we are? Who could comprehend a relationship with an immortal cosmic being?” I frown thinking that over. “I guess you have a point. So, who was the last perso

Before I know it, two warm, dark espresso hands are cupping my face as bright liquid silver eyes stare at me with concern. Their voice slowly begins to filter back into my ears and soon I can make out what they’re saying. “Gabriella, just breathe. No one is going to kill Jartre, I promise you,” they say calmly. “You don’t know that,” I whisper as I feel tears pool in my eyes. I just learned my boyfriend and soulmate, killed his ex, cursed her lover, nearly destroyed the world, made a God, caused a vampire and demon plague and still after all that, all I can feel is pain at the thought of losing him. So much so I can barely breathe. How fucking sick and twisted is that? Ezillus reaches past me and ends up placing my wine glass to my lips and helping me sip, “There you go. Drink your juice, Shelby,” they coo in a southern drawl. I spit the wine back into the glass as I burst into a fit of laughter. I look up at Ezillus through teary eyes as they smile back down at me. I hunch forwa