A flare of appreciation for his slowness to answer before doing the proper research bloomed in my chest. But then it was replaced with that icy-cold dread. “Alek?” I looked up at him, my voice even, strong, damn-near demanding.
“You’re showing all the signs of a vampire coming into their power,” he finally admitted on a loosed breath.
The floor shifted beneath my feet.
“The cravings, the light-sensitivity. Pair that with the suspicions that you may already be a descendent of a bloodline we thought to be extinct?”
I swallowed hard, my heart slowing to an almost sloth’s pace.
“Transitioning?” I asked, trying to steady my breathing. “As in—”
“There aren’t many records on the Seer bloodlines,” Julian cut in, appearing before us with an ancient, dusty-looking book in his hand. The writing looked somewhat like hieroglyphics, all elegant lines, symbols, and pictures—all of which nearly faded from age. “But I’ve been studying everything I can since our new queen’s arrival,” he said, bowing again as he continued to flip through the pages. “It may be possible if she is indeed a Seer like we assume, that her drop of supernatural blood would allow the transition. How many times have you fed her?” He finally looked up from his book.
Alek looked like he’d turned to stone.
“Twice,” I answered for him. “My life was at stake each time,” I added in case Alek had broken some sacred law. I mean, sure, he was the king, but I had yet to learn how absolute that power was or not. There were four other supernatural kings or queens, and I didn’t know all the laws yet.
Julian nodded. “If history can be trusted,” he said, closing the book. “And I always believe it can. You will transition to vampire after a third feeding.” He slid his gaze to Alek’s. “The mating bond combined with the power in your blood and hers is what must be making this all possible.”
“Can her body survive the transition?” The question was quiet, almost a breath of words from Alek.
Julian sealed his lips, apprehension churning in his eyes. “I do not have that answer. There is no record of a human, supernatural blood or otherwise, surviving the attempt to be turned.”
Cold trickled into my blood, but right alongside the terror?
Hope.
For a future. With Alek. Not a countdown to my ultimate demise, but an actual future. An eternity with him. A family.
“I can,” I said, looking up at Alek determinedly.
He shook his head. “I won’t risk it.”
My heart sank into my stomach. “You don’t want me forever?”
Julian cleared his throat. “I’m…” He pointed behind him. “Books. Research.” He disappeared.
“Of course, I want you forever,” Alek growled. “But your forever and mine can be the same when I choose to age with you. I will not risk your life now for the small chance that you might…change.”
I swallowed a mouthful of acid. “I’m stronger than you think.” I always had been. A survivor. I’d been on my own since my biological parents had thrown me away like garbage. And maybe this is why they did it. Maybe they knew my heritage, knew what I’d turn out to be. Knew I would see things in my sleep that would happen the next day, or get senses about people that couldn’t be trusted. Knew I’d be at home among some of the world’s most deadly creatures.
“I know you are, Lyric,” he said, smoothing his hands over my shoulders. His touch warmed every inch of me inside and out. But I wouldn’t be pawed at. “I won’t risk your life.”
“But it’s okay for me to take yours?” Tears welled at the backs of my eyes.
His lips parted, then shut.
“Exactly. It’s a bullshit double standard. I’m taking your life, Alek. You choosing to die with me is robbing you of an eternity. It makes me sick to think of you not living—”
“It’s the same for me!” he growled. “Don’t you see that? If the transition killed you…” his voice trailed off, his blue-gray gaze going lethal.
“It won’t!” I snapped back. “Alek, think about it. Our fates have been intertwined despite the odds. The rules. The laws. All of it. Julian said it himself, I’m from a bloodline you all thought to be extinct. Why would any of that happen if I wasn’t meant to survive the change?”
Alek contemplated, a battle raging in his eyes.
I sighed, feeling the immobility in him. I couldn’t truly blame him. Not when I was fighting to keep him alive too, just in a different way.
He drew me closer, and I melted into his embrace. “You aren’t going to let this drop, are you?” he whispered, tucking his chin over the top of my head.
“Not at all, no,” I said, shaking my head against his chest.
Alek released a long suffering sigh, one so agitated it almost made me laugh. “I’ll do anything to keep you alive,” he said.
I shifted in his hold, looking up at him. “And so will I.”
We stood there like that, a battle of silent stares with no winner in sight. Alek was my mate, this was my new world, and I would stop at nothing to keep us both alive.
Even if it meant I had to die first.
11
Alek
A shrill scream sounded from the back bedroom of the dilapidated house, and two more lycans rushed out of the dining room, one in mid-transition.
I lifted my Glock and fired two silver rounds, hitting both of them between the eyes in quick succession. One landed on the coffee table before me, and the other an anticlimactic heap on the soggy carpet.
At my left, Lachlan made quick work of their leader, snapping his neck with a clean twist.
The screaming in the back room stopped.
“And that’s why you’re not supposed to be here!” Lachlan snapped at me, motioning toward the lycans I’d taken out. “They could have—”
“But they didn’t, because I killed them.” I wasn’t having this fight again tonight. Anyone who thought themselves capable of rendering judgment had to be willing to carry it out.
“And you didn’t use your powers.” Lachlan’s steely gaze narrowed on mine. “All it takes is one bite, and we’re short a king.” He dropped the body and stepped over it.
“There were four of them, not fourteen. Relax.” The assholes had kidnapped four human girls but slipped away when Luka’s pack mounted a rescue mission. The girls had been found physically unharmed, thank fuck, and returned to their parents after their memories had been altered to omit the werewolves. And as for the lycan trash? Their sentence was death.
Hawke walked back into the room, his face and leather jacket spattered with blood, only to shrug when he caught us staring. “What? He ran. I chased. I caught.”
Lachlan grunted, which said it all. Hawke was…well…Hawke. We were just lucky that he was on our side.
A tingle formed at the base of my skull, and I turned to face the energy shift at the open front door, drawing both my weapons.
Benedict materialized, knives strapped to his thighs, and Glocks holstered beneath his arms. His mouth was set in a firm line. That was always a bad sign.