We will file the right copyright free of charge.
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We will pay for any fees you will incur and fight on your behalf, legally, against those who sought to hurt you through this fraudulent claim.
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We are sorry for what a member of our family has done to you, your name, and your property/business. Please let us make amends on the actions of my deceased brother. He was wrong, so wrong, and my family and I vow to make reparations to those hurt by him as more of his illicit activities come to light.
I can feel their pain through each line, and my heart hurts for them. None of this is their fault, and this goes beyond what they are liable for. Because money is one thing, but to truly want to help and follow through with your time and dedication means a lot.
It also makes Elise’s sudden panic clearer. Her words the other day that I withdraw the case.
And yet, I can’t help but feel that there’s something I’m missing. A part of the puzzle that hasn’t revealed itself.
A yawn escapes me then and I close my eyes, head thrown back as I stretch. Days without sleep are hard, especially without the hour cat nap to help. My body goes through lethargic moments and others of manic energy; the yo-yoing effect causing me to stumble toward my TV room in the back of the house where my comfy couch awaits with my favorite afghan.
The news and the revelations continue to mount and for some reason, I feel struck with a whip and need to take a breather. The papers fall from my grip and onto the couch cushion beside me.
“Just for a second.” That’s all I need before making my fourth cup of coffee today. “Ten minutes at the most…”
His hand is on the small of my back as we follow the hostess to our table. The young woman in front of us sways her hips, tries to garner the attention of every man in the room, and yet fails miserably. Pathetically.
I’m embarrassed for her. I giggle through our mind link—our sacred bond—and he chuckles, amused by my candor. But then again, I’m always nothing but honest, that breath of fresh air in his frozen lungs.
His dead heart beats for me.
His darkness surrounds me in warmth.
Moreover, it’s been that way since I broke into the vampiric kingdom one late autumn evening and sat atop the king’s bed waiting for him. His bed.
The plan was to ask for a truce. To demand the vampire patriarch back off my family’s territory and end his kingdom’s raids—the search for the daughters of the dead high priestess and their warlock king.
My sister is clairvoyant.
I control death magic.
Princess twins with more power than our parents, and while seeing the future can come in handy, it’s me he truly seeks. Isabella has seen this, and she went to make an alliance with the werewolves just in case. To ensure the safety of our people because the vampire king has detailed plans for me and the gift I’ve carried since the night of our birth.
I can take a life and give it, moving pieces as I see fit to the prosperity of my people. I can talk to those that have passed and everything breathing, no matter the species.
Their king wants me, to possess that kind of power at all costs, and has killed many in his search.
And yet, the moment our eyes met, a sharp strike froze my veins and held me captive. Every molecular cell in my body came alive with the force of a thousand suns—scorched my very being, and I could see it in his eyes that he felt the same. We couldn’t deny each other, and yet, it was his knees that dropped to the ground with his sword at my feet while pledging his life to me.
To the brave witch with red hair and green eyes who barely reached his chest and who weighed less than a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. And while I watched the handsome man with dark hair and smoldering eyes crumble before me, I gave him my soul on a golden platter.
Because mates are sacred, holy in our world, and my life began the moment I glared at him.
“Humans are disrespectful by nature.” My voice is low, but he nods. His face holds a bit of disgust. He hates to be around mortals, but came for me. To celebrate a human holiday because I find the idea of Valentine’s Day quite adorable. That, and he loves his macabre gift of a steel blade he can attach to the end of his finger like a claw. It’s silly, totally unnecessary for a vampire, but it inspired him to make a reservation for this romantic dinner. “They hold no qualms in trying to bed a taken male or female, my love. No honor. No code.”
“That they are,” I say as he pulls me a little closer, his arm wrapping around my midsection. His need to feel skin on skin rivals mine, and I sigh when he places a chaste kiss on the nape of my neck.
The hostess leads us to a table set for two near the back with the dark night sky as our backdrop. The windows are open, and the moon is high—the stars light up the dark abyss above while I sit in the chair he pulls out for me. We ignore the hostess and her idiocy. The placement of my husband’s menu across the table and away from me is not lost on either of us.
Nor is her scent. The differences that let her fit in amongst those in the city.
“Is this table to your liking, Sir?” the woman asks, moving closer to his side, but before she can place a hand on my mate’s arm, he has her wrist in his hold. Had we been anywhere else, he wouldn’t hesitate to break it, but for now I’m satisfied by the subtle crunch of bones and her yelp. “Sir, you’re—”
“Never touch me,” my husband hisses out, the command of a king, eyes flashing red while she begins to shake. His fangs descend for a second, piercing the gums while she watches in fear. “Disrespect my wife again, and I’ll have your head on a spike outside the palace walls. Now, go back to the front and don’t come back.”
“My apologies.”
“Not accepted, hybrid.”
“How?” the hostess asks me while holding her wrist against her chest, voice trembling. She knew who we were. “No one here—”
“Silence.” Her immediate compliance to my demand is false, belittled by her earlier behavior. Stupid and idiotic; I study her for a few minutes, stretching out the silence while she shifts nervously, a whimper escaping her. “Name.”
“Elise.”
“Elise what?” my husband asks, even though I have an idea of who her father is. Even though half human, her essence is reminiscent of his. Earthy, but mixed with roses to enhance her femininity.
“Veltross. My name is Elise Veltross.”
“The daughter of one of my generals. One who would be embarrassed by your behavior and punish you just as swiftly.” Coincidence, or…? my mate asks through our link, tilting his head while studying her. Have you spoken to Isabella?
“Yes.” Eyes on the ground, she takes a step back. “I’m very sorry.”
We’re to meet tomorrow afternoon. “You let your human side overpower and disgrace our very nature and laws, Miss Veltross.” Eyes narrowed, I watch her through slits while clutching the napkin in my hand. I’m not buying her sudden contrite act, nor do we trust her father. He’s a good general but thinks too highly of himself and his position. “How dare you try and touch my mate and your king.”
“I was being—”