As suddenly as the top of the staircase had vanished, it rematerialized. I skidded to a halt before I tumbled down the steep flight. I was no longer alone. They were there, climbing up the steps, broad smiles on their faces, Amelie’s blonde curls bobbing, Fiona and Bishop hand in hand. Just as I remembered them. They were dressed as finely as I, the girls in matching dresses but different colors—Amelie in crimson and Fiona in violet to compliment her sparkling purple-tinged eyes. Bishop stepped forward in a dashing silver suit.
I grinned. They grinned back as they glided up the stairs toward me, parting before they reached me to stand on either side. And then my breath caught as I glimpsed a mass of chestnut brown hair. Caden ascended the stairs behind them, wearing a custom-tailored black suit like those Viggo and Mortimer wore. He lifted his head and his beautiful jade eyes bored into me, sucking the air out of my lungs. My shoulders slouched with relief. I was where I needed to be. I had made it.
Caden stepped onto the landing and held out his hand. I moved forward and took it, then poured myself into his arms, into his embrace. “It worked,” he whispered in my ear, the words tickling my skin, sending shivers through to my fingertips.
I reveled in the feel of his chest against my cheek for a long moment, inhaling the intoxicating scent I had come to realize was Caden. Finally I pulled back far enough to gaze into his eyes as I curled my arms around his neck. They were just as I had remembered, so vibrantly bluish-green, so unhuman.
“I told you it would. You just needed to believe in yourself.” He smiled, lifting a hand to hold my chin before leaning forward to press his mouth over mine in a soft kiss. When he broke away, he whispered, “And now we can be together forever.”
“Forever?” Forever, with Caden. An impossibility before, but now it couldn’t happen soon enough. “When?”
His smile turned my legs to water. “Why not now?”
Something started to burn against my chest. Caden’s brow furrowed with confusion as he gazed down. I followed his eyes to the black heart pendant around my neck—the catalyst for my curse—alive with fiery red and orange swirls that danced as they had on Ratheus, when they worked to protect me. When they’d stopped me from being transformed. My stomach tightened with the sickly realization that I couldn’t have what I wanted. That I couldn’t be with him. Not yet, anyway. How would I explain it to him? Would he wait for me? A renewed sense of panic washed over me. Hesitantly, I looked up . . .
Into the pulsating, blood-red eyes of a thirsty vampire. The same eyes that I had met in the atrium, moments after arriving back with Caden. The same eyes that had poisoned all of my memories. I stumbled backward, gasping for air, terror ripping through me as I tried to distance myself.
“Join us,” Amelie’s playful voice whispered in my ear. Spinning around, I saw the others closing in on me from all sides, their eyes full of that same hunger. For me. My blood.
“I can’t yet!” I shrieked. They would kill me before Sofie reversed this curse! I had to get away, to save myself. I stumbled into a run, barely able to stay on my feet.
“Join us,” they whispered, trailing me. “Join us now or die.”
I screamed . . .
And bolted upright in bed, the sound of my scream ringing in my ears as it bounced off the wood-paneled walls of my tiny room. I was back in the cabin I’d been exiled to until Caden could control his thirst for blood. Pulling the duvet up around my chin, I focused on my breathing to slow my heart; it was thumping so furiously in my chest, I thought it might explode.
Bad dream? A concerned voice asked. I turned wide eyes on Max, now standing next to my bed. This was all too familiar.
My hands flew to the werebeast’s neck, seizing fistfuls of shiny black fur. “Please tell me it was just a nightmare, Max. It wasn’t real, right? Please!” I begged, my breathing still ragged, my throat burning as I sucked in icy air.
It was just a bad dream, he reassured me somberly. I’ve been by your side all night.
I exhaled noisily, flopping back into my pillows. “Oh, thank God.”
His deep chuckle filled my head. You’ll never have a regular bad dream again without thinking it’s real, will you?
Reaching up, I fumbled with the black heart pendant. “Not while this blasted thing is around my neck.” The gift from Sofie was my death sentence if Viggo or Mortimer got hold of me. I lay quietly, replaying the nightmare in my head. As horrific as it was, it had allowed me a glimpse into the recesses of my mind, into my memories of Caden. Memories of what I loved. I needed to hold that in a death grip. If it meant reliving the aftermath, I would do it over and over again, night after night, I realized. But how many times would I wake up to the same inevitable end? How long would I need to torture myself with that fear before I could put it past me?