Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Even my own goddamn fucking mother fed on her. The entire thing makes me physically ill, fills my guts with black boiling rage. My insides are warring between rage and absolute anguish and it’s anyone’s guess which side will win. I’ll either shrivel up and cease to exist or I’ll become an inferno that melts everything in sight.
How should I feel about the fact that she’s this empty shell instead of a cold and heartless scheming she-vamp bitch? What would be worse? I don’t know. Maybe that, instead of this, and maybe I really did get off easy here.
I can barely look at her. She’s just what I expected her to be before I looked into her beautiful green eyes the night she used those eyes to brand my soul and bring it back from the dead. She’s lovely, gorgeous. Mine.
So fucking much hair, soft curly hair past her tits that feels amazing all over me when we fuck, when I wake up beside her, when she cuddles into me with light in her eyes and all those curls spilled all over me. She’s got warm skin that smells and tastes like the most beautiful ambrosia. Kyla’s beautiful outside but I also got to see so much beauty also radiating from the inside, the inside that started to seriously fucking shine as I melted her walls away.
But no more. Now, she’s an empty vessel. After having her zest, her essence, her life force underneath me, beside me, wrapped around me, deep inside me… and then losing it?
The sun won’t rise again for me without her. I’m doomed to live in the dark, watching her exist, watching her subsist.
I’m forced to feel this pain because she revived my soul and now that she’s empty I want it to fucking die.
And I want to inflict pain. I can’t even yet acknowledge the rising need to make those who are responsible for this feel pain. No pain delivered to them will even touch my pain but I need an outlet for this rage.
So far I’ve had to play things carefully due to the political tight rope royal vampires have to constantly walk on but I am done playing. Fucking finished! Soon the rage will bubble over and surpass the anguish and that’s when things will get fucking scary. I’ll find out who’s involved in this and I’ll make those responsible pay.
But the most responsible of all is me. We’re in this mess because I didn’t do what I promised: protect her.
My gut twisted as I remembered her words not long after we first met.
“Who’s gonna protect me from you?”
Too bad no one did.
Part
1
~Tristan~
-1-
The Constantin Center, Near Phoenix, AZ
Tristan was in the master bedroom of the cottage with Kyla. She was asleep in the sleigh bed, looking peaceful, looking pure and angelic, her beautiful curly hair fanned out over the pillow.
It was morning but he hadn’t slept yet.
He’d sat in a chair beside the bed watching her sleep…just like he’d done that first night she came to him. But this time for very different reasons and with very different emotions inside of him.
It’d been hours since he’d realized that turning her had gone wrong and he’d been in agony ever since. Agony because of all that had gone wrong. It played like a bad movie in his head all night long, the reel getting stuck, ticking at the end with empty green eyes staring up at him.
He’d carried her from that room off the lab back to the cottage and she’d just held onto him, looking off, staring at nothing.
He’d walked to the cottage without noticing whether or not anyone was watching, whether anyone was even there. Nothing existed during that time but a palpable emptiness. When it stopped and he got a chance to think, when things sank in and became real, it’d undoubtedly be time for vengeance.
For now, he was in freefall. He was reeling, trapped in a dark elevator that was plummeting toward the bowels of the earth.
He’d put her in the bed and told her to sleep. She’d closed her eyes and immediately obeyed.
For fuck sakes.
He’d rolled his eyes at that. She’d always argued with him, hardly ever did what he’d asked of her without a bloody battle. He wanted with every ounce of his being for her to look at him challengingly, ready to fight about being bossed around.
When her eyes finally did open, hours later, he felt a spark of hope light at the sight of her beautiful emerald green cat eyes but that spark quickly burned out because it was evident, as soon as their eyes met, that she was still empty. It wasn’t even that she was herself and then went empty when she focused on his eyes like they typically did.
She woke up empty. And it gutted him.