Page 74 of His Eternal Temptation

“If that’s all you want, where have you been the last hundred years?”

Cris’s dark eyes flashed orange. “Where have I been? How dare you? I’ve been suffering because of you.”

“From a little fire?” Rowan’s voice was so cold, it sent a shiver down his own spine. Beside him, Lane sucked in a sharp breath.

Rowan pressed closer to Lane, moving slow, so as not to draw attention. He had to buy time to allow Evangeline and Kai to get into position, not pretend to give in. This wasn’t over. He’d stand by Lane and protect him at all costs. His sire was not standing in the way of his happiness, not even for a minute, not even as a ruse.

Never again.

“A little fire?” Cris’s eyes flared, his face flushed with rage. “I was burned to a crisp. Thank all that’s damned the spells cast around my heart and brain saved me. You weren’t aware of my protections, were you, you fool? My limbs were charred to ash. Nothing left. My body… Do you have any idea the agony it was to heal?” A slow, deadly smile smoothed out Cris’s anger. “Perhaps I’ll show you. Burn you as you did me. Then I’ll bury you in the ground so you can’t feed even after your broken bits stitch themselves back together.”

Rowan’s stomach dropped, leaving him impossibly hollow. Was that what had happened? Had someone from the village buried what was left of Cris’s body?

Without blood, healing such extensive wounds would have taken years. Perhaps decades. He’d have been far worse off than Emile if only protective spells had saved him. Even when Cris’s body finally healed, he’d have been starved to the point of madness, his strength diminished to almost nothing, trapped underground and doomed to suffocate to death and come back to life, slowly scratching his way to the surface bit by bit.

It was the kind of horror that turned eternal life into a curse. A fate worse than death. But Cris deserved it. He deserved a century of torture for what he’d forced upon Rowan, and he deserved worse for all the unfortunate souls he’d killed and discarded.

“I wonder how long you’d take to heal,” Cris mused. “And when you finally crawl from the earth, I’ll be waiting. To do it all again.”

Cecile stirred, and the Orlov vampire snapped her neck, smirking at Rowan as she was rendered temporarily dead once more. “Doesn’t look like this is your city any longer. This is the end of the Valeros.”

Rowan clenched a fist, his fangs lengthening. “You sure?”

Cris charged forward with a snarl, and Rowan shoved Lane behind him with lightning speed. To the side, a blur of motion flickered, and Evangeline tackled the Orlov vampire with a scream, plunging her hand into his back and tearing out his heart.

She threw the bloody organ at Cris, her eyes glowing bright with fury. Cris stopped short and turned with a hiss. In a rush, Marshall dropped Jack and lunged for the other man who’d been holding him. Light flashed as spells burst through the air. It was chaos.

Rowan tackled Cris, taking him out at the knees. Bones cracked as he hit the concrete floor, but it didn’t hinder Cris, who whirled on Rowan faster than he could react, and snapped his wrist.

The pain was nothing. Rowan bared his fangs in a roar and clawed at Cris’s eyes with his good hand, as his other wrist healed. There was a sound of a neck snapping somewhere behind him, then Lane’s shout.

Cris’s hateful hands closed around Rowan’s throat. An overwhelming sense of loyalty crashed into Rowan, and he stilled. He couldn’t hurt this man. He owed Cris everything. What was he doing? Emotion swelled within Rowan, sick and twisted, but more potent than anything he’d ever experienced. He loved Cris. Every cell in his being screamed this truth at him.

Rowan went limp, and Cris chuckled in his ear. He had Rowan right where he wanted him, flooding him with burning shame so potent he could hardly think.

This was why he’d had to catch Cris by surprise to kill him. He’d set a trip wire and lay in wait. That act of defiance was excruciating enough on its own, taking a mental toll as Rowan’s intent to end his sire raged against the loyalty in his blood. But it had done the trick. The trap had rendered Cris temporarily dead and set off an explosion. He’d burned Cris without having to lay a finger on him.

Rowan couldn’t fight when Cris asserted his control, even when the truth lived deep within his soul. He didn’t love this monster, no matter what Cris forced him to feel, but the illusion Cris created was so strong that Rowan was helpless to act against it.

Lane roared somewhere in the distance, and Cris jolted on top of Rowan. His eyes went wide, and the barrage of emotion cut off. Cris slumped, and there was a sickening sound. Blood appeared at the corners of Cris’s mouth and ran down his chin.

Rowan gasped for air, his vision blurring.

Lane rolled Cris off him. “Rowan!” He cupped his face. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Rowan shook like a leaf in a thunderstorm. Was Cris dead? Was it over? Words wouldn’t form. He couldn’t even move. What was happening?

“I’ve got you,” Lane said, smoother now. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

He was? Everything within Rowan was scattered, broken pieces everywhere. His ears rang. Blood roared through his veins, but Lane’s voice cut through it all and pulled him back, telling him he was safe again and again.

Rowan gripped the front of Lane’s shirt, and Lane smiled so sweetly it hurt.

The pain allowed Rowan to focus. His gaze fell on Cris’s crumpled form. Had Lane ripped out his heart? He couldn’t see it anywhere, and Lane’s hands were clean. A long, bloody metal shard lay nearby, and Rowan’s blood ran cold.

Cris might be temporarily dead, his emotional attack interrupted, but this wasn’t over. Why the hell couldn’t Rowan make his tongue work? He had to warn Lane!

Cecile marched over and kicked Cris onto his stomach, peering at the wound Lane had inflicted. She caught Rowan’s eye. He couldn’t reply, but didn’t need to. She’d take care of this. Between Lane and his coven, Rowan would be all right.