S

ix months later…

Every person inside the room stops the moment we step through the gallery’s doors. They’re watching. They’re murmuring amongst themselves about my coming out, and it’s hard to keep the smile from my blood red lips.

Theodore’s hand on the small of my back tenses a bit, his muscles coiling as one man in particular looks me up and down, lingering on the low neckline of my Venetian style dress with a dip in the front that stops at my belly button.

It’s sexy while classy. White to symbolize the innocence he adored about my humanity in this life.

It also shows off my tattoo; a similar piece to that of my king’s that encompasses from sternum to just above my mound. The dark wings of an angel stretch—are open in all their glory while adorned with beads of crystals and pearls. Yet, the focal point is a large red ruby which hangs from the longest necklace and stops a few inches from my clit.

The only color on my pale skin.

Just like Theo’s tattoo appeared when he took the throne, mine came the day he bit me. The day my mate gave me back my life.

“Down, love. The show first...” I trail off while turning toward him, my hand skimming down the front of his black dress shirt with the top two buttons undone. I flick each onyx stud on my way to the waistband of his slacks, then finger his Cartier belt with the gold buckle. “But after, you can do as you please while I help Tero and Marcia after my parents’ visit.”

“Such a lovely couple,” he remarks, knowing my punishment will outweigh his. A public death in the name of art. They fought me on this, cried and begged for their lives, but my heart held no empathy for two people who used a defenseless child for monetary gain. “Aren’t you glad I had your birth certificate tampered with when they gave you up? You could’ve been Hilary Burgess.”

“That they are, and yes. That name doesn’t suit me one bit.” The bold red carpet we walk through has security on both sides, preventing the press from coming closer. Each of them wears the emblem of the vampire monarchy, a golden pin across the right lapel of their all-black tuxes. Both male and female, they stand straight while looking ahead with serious postures and a bit of hunger on their faces.

They won’t attack, though.

Not tonight. Never in a public event.

The clear path leads to a set of wide, white marble stairs that leads to the upper floors, and no one moves until we reach the very last step and into my exhibit. Every square inch is bathed in black, the few light sources coming from the glass dome ceilings and the strategically placed soft white lighting above each piece.

The perfect mixture of innocence and sin.

Light and the dark.

The two marry together in a way that sends chills down the spines of those who have seen the final product. Because I’m not hiding who I am anymore.

He embraces me as is, and I do the same.

Every piece, the paintings I did while human of an unknown man, fills the different areas side by side with its sinful counterpart in animal form.

My king’s reign.

Tero’s deadly poise.

Marcia’s strike.

Meera’s knowledge.

Elise’s greed.

Isabella’s sight.

My touch.

We are the seven deadly sins, and I've embraced my truth. Hold it close to my heart because it is a part of me. I won’t deny it. Us.

What home will always mean.

A round of applause rings throughout the room as those with V.I.P. access watch us walk toward the main stage. They're looking at me, then Theo, sensing something’s off but they can't put their fingers on it. Instead, they celebrate my interpretations while behind two glass enclosures a familial set of predators awaits.

Marcia, my beautiful girl, has been given a treat along with her brother. A meal. Their favorite kind.

Their individual sizes vary, with Tero being the largest, making the choice easy.

Theodore steps toward the mic and the room grows quiet; if a pin dropped, it would be heard.

“Thank you all for coming out tonight in support of my talented wife.” Applauses grow louder, the confirmation of our relationship I’m sure will make the front-page news of some magazine in the next few hours, but I could care less. “Please enjoy the show with an open mind. Her interpretations of the seven deadly sins are incredible, and I hope you imbibe in a bit of the macabre with us tonight.”

The covers are removed from the glasses and the audience gasps at the brutal scene.

Two beasts.

My favorite snakes are in rare form, letting go and feeding. It reminds me of the yellow anaconda display that Theo took me to where I watched the beautiful animal feed. They’ve already broken down their victims.

Marcia was given my human mother.

Tero, my father.

They’ve already killed each, one by suffocation and the other by envenomation before the crowd could fully see what they’d be digesting. I might have a disturbing mind, but I won’t expose my kind to the idiocy of humanity.

A part of me admires them after living amongst them.

Tero’s jaws are unlocked, his bloodied cage a mess as he swallows my father head first, the carnage left behind from the kill making his body unrecognizable. Too much blood mixed with the low lighting only let the audience see what we want them to.

Marcia’s cage is much the same. My mother was already swallowed, leaving behind the giant bloat on my special girl’s stomach where her meal is.

The applause that thunders in the room is deafening, the ground shaking, and I smile toward the crowd. They love what they see. They have no idea that they’ve just witnessed the murder of two of their own, and yet, I’d bet money that some wouldn’t care either way.

After a bit, when both snakes lay in contented bliss, the crowd disperses to walk the rest of the room. The murmur of people inquiring about purchasing a few doesn’t surprise me, but the sight of Xadiel standing in the middle of the room, his face etched with worry, freezes me in place.

“Xadiel,” I call out, voice too low for the humans, but everyone else hears and are on alert. “You guys didn’t let us know you were coming?” His features tighten at the word them. Him and my sister. “Where is she? I don’t smell her?”

“Gabriella, she’s…I don’t—”

“Where. Is. She?” Dread fills my veins, and Theo beside me tenses.

“She’s gone.”