Diana is crying, trying to move away from the parts of his body near her, but what’s in her eyes isn’t love or remorse. No. It’s disgust and anger; like her mother, she’s bitter and shrewd.
When I’m done with him, I toss what’s left with the other body parts. “Go ahead and put your toy back together again. Or better yet, let’s see if your mother comes to save you.”
37
Gabriella
“W
hy?” is all I can think to ask, my mind trying to make sense of the incomprehensible—a nightmare come to life. Diana’s chained in front of me and wearing her husband’s blood after a confession that rocked me to my core. What have I ever done to these people? Her clothes are in tatters while the crowd begins to chant around us, their feet stomping the concrete ground.
Then, there’s Tero, his wife, and the cobra that lies closest to me in her coiled form, creating a barrier between me and the crowd. She’s attuned to my every move. Her head is low to the ground in a non-threatening way, and it reminds me of Mr. Pickles—
“My dog,” I say suddenly, and the room goes quiet. They all look at me with affection. With the need to help me, but don’t know how.
“We have him,” Meera says, stepping toward me with both hands up. “Tero called me when they took you and I brought him home; he’s asleep next to our rescue puppy. See?” She’s holding up her phone, and on the screen is a live feed of both dogs asleep and cuddled up next to each other. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to him, Gabriella. He’s safe.”
“Thank you.” There’s an audible sigh of relief from the others in the room, but Theo has yet to say a word, although it’s better this way because seeing him handle Consuelos like a ragdoll gave me an adverse reaction to what I should consider normal. He was a beast, and while it scared me, a small, hidden part of me liked it. Enjoyed seeing a man—the killer beneath the façade of a handsome man gives into his baser need.
For revenge.
For death.
To protect me.
The latter of which I’m still choosing to ignore because anything otherwise means I’m giving in. That I believe all this is real and not part of a broken mind’s hallucinations.
And yet, I’ve seen Theo’s bloodied fangs. I watched him drain the now mangled body of Detective Consuelos, tossing him aside as if he were trash. This is real. Accept it.
“…finish the story your husband began, Miss Veltross,” Theo snarls suddenly from beside me and I yelp, his bloody lips curling over his fangs. However, my brows scrunch up for a different reason. I pause because of that name. Why does it sound familiar? Why does the blood within my veins sing with a burning ire each time he mentions it? “Tell Gabriella why she died in my arms over a century ago after your grandfather slashed her chest.”
My hand instinctively goes to my chest while my mind revisits that dream. I remember vividly how the man in the dream took me, made my body sing with pleasure, and then the words that followed.
“They did this to us,” I whisper and his head snaps to mine, the softest look overtaking his features. “That was really you in my dream, wasn’t it? It was you I visited?”
“Yes.”
“How?” How the hell is any of this possible? “How did I see you…how did—”
“With the help of Meera and your sister, I was able to dream walk.”
“Dream walk? My sister?” I sputter, not knowing which one to dissect first. “Please help me understand, Theodore. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
“Once the truth is out, it can’t be undone. Don’t turn your back on my mother again,” Diana begs, drops of bloody spittle staining the dirty clothes she’s wearing. Her hair is matted to her forehead, her stench reaching me where I sit on a throne made for a king—solid gold with a crest embedded into the velvet cloth covering the seat. “Gabriella isn’t one of us. She’s never belonged in our world.”
Theo shakes his head, a cruel smile on his face. “Why don’t I tell you a few things you didn’t know, Miss Veltross.”
“This woman isn’t your mate. She can’t be.”
“Did you know your mother thought herself so smart, her plan so solid, that she never once questioned who Gabriella’s benefactor/uncle was all this time?” A gasp escapes me at his words, but Theodore doesn’t look at me. Instead, he lightly squeezes my shoulder in a show of comfort.
“It was you,” I say on a shaky whimper, my heart breaking all over again. “So I really had no family, not a single person that wanted me?”
“I’m sorry, love. But I’ve been protecting you since the day of your rebirth.” His revelation doesn’t shock me. Being honest, it gives me a bit of relief to know someone cared. “But it was when your painting of a warrior’s death crossed my desk, you were about eight at the time, that I had the proof I’ve been waiting for all along.”
“How? Why is...Christ, this makes no sense.”
“And yet deep down you know it’s true.” I do. Every cell in my body is begging me to accept him, while my fight or flight is demanding I run. “The original of that painting sits in our home back in—”
“Italy,” I answer for him, and he nods.
“Italy.”
“How did I know that?”
“Because it is who you are. Our life.” The small smile on his gorgeous face falls, and I’m once again greeted by the monster in him. His expression is hard and his muscles coil, his anger palpable as he turns to look at Diana. “You have sixty seconds before I rip your head off and feed your blood to the vampires standing guard.”
“Theodore, please,” Diana cries out, her desperation mounting. She fights against her bindings, the metal digging into her wrists, and rivulets of blood fall down each arm, creating a puddle on the ground. Is that the human side of her? “She will never be good enough for you. For our kingdom.”
“There has never been an ‘our,’ Miss Veltross.”
“Don’t do this.”
“Do what?” I ask.
“You’re willing to end a pure bloodline for her? A priestess?”
