جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 10

Something is wrong with this vampire. And no one seems to notice. A roar of bloodthirsty excitement rises and falls through the execution square as the guards drag the vampire into the center. Movement near an alcove catches my eye. I glance to see another set of guards bringing in a second vampire, this one hidden from the crowd’s sight, and kneeling him down. So. Another one of those. “How much blood do you think they'll make this one spill?” Rinna’s amused question drifts into my ears, but I don't answer. From the high edge of the watchtower, I study the vampire on trial instead. Jet-black hair falls unevenly over his face, hiding most of it. He is large as well, enough so that even with the silver chains burning his wrists and guards at his sides, he still towers over them all. With a body like that, it shouldn't have been possible for Team A to get their hands on him. Especially not without two or three hunters dead. My grip tightens around the rail. Something is comp

The flashes begin the same time pain consumes me and my scream is all my body knows. I hear nothing over the roaring until finally the pain begins to douse and sweet bliss starts to warm me everywhere. Flowers brush against my legs as I run. I'm laughing. No. Not me. Her ruby dress glitters under the sun, blowing because of the wind distracting me. She's laughing. I love it when she does. I'm gaining on her. Just a little further and—A knife thrusts into our stomach and I double over in agony, the pain is burning even hotter. When we look up, fire surrounds me instead and my senses drag between the two lives as smoke fills my lungs. I'm running after her again. Blood is everywhere. We have to get to her. Fear. She's singing. Darkness. She's screaming at me. Hunger. I'm a monster. She's dead.Grief. **Pain!****Pain!!****Pain!!!**“Aaaaaaaargh!!!”A scream jolts me back into the present. The dank, dark corridor comes back into my vision. I blink. What—“No! Don't go! Come back Lu

I wake up gasping. My hand flies to my throat, then my chest, where my heart is pounding so hard it hurts. For one disorienting moment, my body doesn't feel like mine. It feels wrong, changed somehow. *Just what did he do*— The memories crash back. The prison. The vampires. *Him.* I shoot upright— Instead of the dank, freezing stones of the Guild's dungeons, I’m lying in a heavy four-poster bed draped in dark velvet. I blink once. Where am I? My eyes sweep the room, searching first for threats. No vampires. Instead, I find a room so lavish it feels unreal, a stark contrast to the utilitarian stone walls of the Guild. The room makes no sense. Am I in the Capital? I throw the blankets aside and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. The moment my feet touch the floor, a wave of dizziness hits me. I lean quickly against one of the thick bedposts, gripping the dark velvet drapes until the room steadies again. My fingers immediately search for the familiar weight of my d

Kaine doesn't speak after that, and even though my entire body is on fire and pain clouds every thought, his silence remains. I must be dreaming.No.This has to be a dream.She won't survive the night, Master.The words echo through the haze, refusing to make sense.No. They have the wrong person. Hunters don't die in a vampire bed. They die on their feet. They die with weapons in their hands.My fingers twitch against the velvet sheets, searching for a hilt, a blade, a piece of broken glass—anything. My hand finds only soft fabric. The taste of helplessness coats my tongue.Somewhere above me, fabric rustles. The weight of Kaine's hand still rests over the fabric covering my shoulder.“How long?” Kaine finally asks, his voice so low that I almost mistake it for part of the dream.“A few hours at most,” Celine answers. Her voice sounds distant, accompanied by the clatter of glass bottles. “Look at the silver lines. I've never seen a body reject a bond like this. Your mark is demand

“Absolutely not!” His silence is answer enough, but the glint in his green eyes even more so. The bloody bastard is actually considering it. “I’m not drinking his blood. I'd rather die.” My fingers move on instinct, searching for the familiar scar on my wrist. They stop the instant they brush his hand. Right. I can't even reach it. “Is a death wish standard issue for all hunters, or are you just exceptionally eager to fill a grave?” I grit my teeth, refusing to be the first to look away. Once again, I'm doing exactly what the Order trained me never to do. “I’m not eager,” I snap, “it’s our code. And right now, a clean grave sounds infinitely better than being dependent on drinking your blood.” He studies me for a long moment. “A beautiful sentiment. But martyring yourself to a code requires an audience. So, what exactly does dying for your code accomplish? You're nowhere near home. No one is coming to write your epitaph.” I let out a humorless laugh. “And