Stefan’s POV “Is this a trapdoor?” Instant panic floods my senses as I turn around to locate Gwen by her voice. She has wandered off to the far side of the compound and is standing right in the middle of the rubble of what used to be a barn. The last time I was in that barn, it was burning. I barely made it out before the roof came crashing down. I walk over to her and look down at what she is pointing at. A trap door, half-hidden by charred wooden beams. Creepers have also grown over the rubble. It’s a wonder she was able to notice the door. “Where does it lead to?” “The dungeons.” “Dungeons? Can we go inside?” she asks. Then a moment later, her face falls. “Oh, sorry. Is this where…” I nod. “Yeah, this is where my father imprisoned me.” Her hand lands on my arm gently. “I’m sorry. It’s fine. We don’t have to look…” I want to be strong, to tell her that no, we can look. But the very idea of taking those steps to the place below makes me want to puke. Just seeing the door is
Gwen’s POV “Hey, have you…have you seen Stefan?” I ask Hanna, joining her on the watchtower of the old pack house. The watchtower is at the back of the left side of the house, and it seems to have survived the raid for the most part. The wooden stairs leading to the top are a little rickety and could do with some work before being put to use again. Hanna puts out the cigarette in her hand–this is the first time I’ve seen her smoke–and crushes the stub beneath her boot. “You smoke?” I ask, sidling up next to her. The platform at the top is box-like, with a surrounding walkway shielded by wooden rails. She’s leaning against a corner stilt, and since it isn’t giving way under her weight, I become confident in the strength of the structure and prop myself against the railing. “Rarely,” she says, rubbing her hands along her arms. “Fuck, it’s cold out here.” “Is it?” I ask, frowning. I’m not feeling the chill, and she’s the one wearing a pull-neck sweater beneath a denim jacket. “Ca
“What were you thinking going on the run by yourself without telling anyone? Aren’t kings supposed to always have someone accompanying them?” When I get no answer, I look up from the wound I’m cleaning on his chest to his face. He’s watching me, the corner of his lip turned up slightly as if in amusement. “What?” I question, wondering what’s funny about this situation. “Is this where you scold me?” he asks. “Damn right it is,” I reply right away. “What would have happened to you if we hadn’t come looking? What if there were more of them–” “I’m fine now, aren’t I?” I groan and put away the cotton wad. “If you do something like that again, I’ll be the one beating you up.” He chuckles and tries to sit up, but I press a palm to his chest to keep him down. “Will you at least stay still?” “We heal fast, Gwen. I can barely feel the scratches at this point.” I give a doubtful look to the wound I just finished disinfecting. “I’m not sure about that.” True, the majority of the other sc
Stefan’s POV You would think that after getting jumped by a werewolf high on vampire blood, the first thing on my mind would be addressing this new threat. I mean, sure, it’s right there at the forefront of my mind, but so are two other things as well. One, I’ve never needed to dress a wound, and I’ve received some nasty ones in all the years I’ve spent getting into fights with werewolves. Even the worst ones usually heal within hours, sometimes with a little help from a healer, but I’ve never gone to bed with one and woken up without it at least having formed a scab. The one I have on my chest right now is setting a new record, it seems. It’s still raw and doesn’t show any signs of hurrying up with the recovery. I ended up dressing it up as Gwen advised–I had no choice, really. I could get a balm from the healer, but I don’t want to raise eyebrows around here. As far as everyone knows, I should have recovered from last night’s injuries. And that’s what I’m going to keep them t
Stefan’s POV “What are you doing?” Gwen asks, rushing to my side. She pushes my hand away from the gauze I’m pulling away from my wound. “I want to see if it has healed up,” I tell her, peeking through the edge of the side of the gauze I’d pulled away before she showed up. It’s still raw. “Of course, it hasn’t,” she says, taping the side back to my skin. “It hasn’t been an hour since I applied it.” Yeah, well… She pats her palm over the gauze and looks up at me. I meet her gaze for a second and look away at the mirror. She starts doing up the buttons I’d released to check on my wound. “You are brooding,” she says. I frown down at her head. “What?” “You didn’t say goodbye to her, did you?” she asks. “Why didn’t you?” “I told you I saw her before the meeting.” “No, you didn’t,” she says, and I wonder whether Mari said something that gave away the fact I hadn’t interacted with her since the previous night. “She wanted to see you before she left, I think.” She finishes with the
Gwen’s POV “There must be something we can do,” I tell Hanna as I watch the van disappear through the gate. Stefan’s wound is yet to heal, and there’s a high probability the attackers are similar to the one from last night. If one was able to injure him so, when he is the most powerful werewolf around, what will happen if they are facing five or more? “There is,” she says, turning to walk back into the house. “Do you know how to use a gun?” “Yes.” Connor brought me to the shooting range enough times for me to perfect my aim. I never thought anything that happened with him would come in handy at some point. “Good,” she says, heading for the stairs. “Wait here, I’ve got one for you.” She heads upstairs and I wait, pacing in the foyer. Every second that passes feels like an eternity. She doesn’t stay long, and when she gets back, she has a handgun. “Stefan will want to skin me alive for bringing you, but he might spare me if you have this,” she tells me as she hands me the pistol
Gwen’s POV It’s been four hours. Four hours since Stefan disappeared into the infirmary with Mari in his arms. I’ve spent most of that time wearing down a path in the living room carpet. My eyes keep darting to the hallway leading to the infirmary. Nobody has been allowed into the room since Levi had his leg set three hours ago. He left to recover in his room. Since then, only three people have been in the infirmary–Stefan, Mari, and the healer. A few times, I’ve almost convinced myself to go ahead and take a look. She is my twin sister, he is my mate. I should get to check on them. But the memory of Stefan’s threatening glare back in the forest is enough to keep me from doing it. If he looks at me like that ever again… I turn away from the hallway. Maybe I should get out of this house. Take a walk, a drive, anything. Because if I have to stay here one more minute and wonder what’s going on with them, I’ll go crazy. I take the stairs two at a time. In our bedroom, I open one o
Stefan’s POV “Where are you going?” I stop in my tracks and turn. Mari’s eyes are on me as she props herself up on a pillow. I walk back to the bed and help her arrange the pillow behind her. “I thought you were sleeping.” I haven’t left her side since we got back from Red Creek. One of Theodore’s werewolves hurt her and almost got away with her while his partners distracted Max and Levi. But I got there just in time to rip him apart. He had banged her up so badly that she remained unconscious for a few hours after I brought her home. The healer administered some medication, but she was still in some pain when she woke up. Unlike our kind, shapeshifters don’t have fast healing abilities. She finally fell asleep an hour ago, and I’ve been watching her. It looked like she would be resting for a while, so I wanted to go downstairs to discuss our next step. “How are you feeling?” I ask, pulling back when she is comfortable. “Do you need anything?” She shakes her head. “I feel muc
High Palace, Ninth Heaven Selena, Moon Goddess, walked through the open doors of the High Palace. It had been centuries since Mother Creator had summoned her. A summon from Her Holiness was a rare occurrence that sent fear through even the most powerful deities. It often meant one of two things–you’ve gotten on her bad side, or she’s about to give you a new Order. Orders could be bad or good, but it was better to manage one’s expectations. Selena spent most of her time at her Lunar Palace, overseeing the race the Holy Mother had sanctioned her to begin as guardians to the human race. That had been thousands of years ago, and it had been her last Order. She wanted to hope, but she had a sinking feeling this summoning was not about her Order. When she got in front of the throne, she got to her knees, her white robes spilling on the iridescent marble floor. Holding her hands together in front of her, she bowed deeply. “Mother.” There was nobody on the throne, but the creator’s
Stefan’s POV It’s not until I watch the flames engulf her body that all hope dies within me. Gwen is gone. She is dead. When I saw her at the castle two nights ago, I thought I had time. Now, I have all the time in the world, but I don’t have her. I have nothing. And it’s all my fault. If I’d never let her leave, this would not have happened. Heck, if I’d left her alone that night I found her at the nightclub, she would be alright. ‘You can delay fate, but you cannot change it.’ That’s what Eric said when I woke up in the middle of the jungle after he went off running last night. She was meant to die, that’s what he meant. That it didn’t matter what I did or failed to do. She would have died anyway, at that exact time. He said the High Priestess never mentioned it. She told him about his own demise, but not a word about Gwen’s. Why did she insist on sacrificing Gwen in her past life when she must have known she would die young? Because then, she must have known that Gwen
Stefan’s POV “Why did Alexander help Theodore?” I ask Phillip when he shows up in the library in the evening. I’ve been in here most of the day, looking through Alexander’s books. Eric insists that I’m wasting my time. But time’s all I have. Gwen has been avoiding me all day since our conversation in the garden this morning. I know I have to give her time. It’ll be a while before she wants to see me, leave alone talk to me. While I wait for that time to come, I’ll not stop looking for a way to give her something she might want more than me. Eric says he is not the one she loves, but she hasn’t heard their story. Maybe…what if…what if all this time, he was the one she loved? She says if we break the bond, I’ll realise I never really love her. What if that’s true for her? Maybe without the bond, I’m nothing to her. Because we were never meant to be. We only found each other because Eric chose me as his host. I’d never have gotten tangled up with her. I only served to bring the
Eric’s POV Gwen and I are a pair of star-crossed soulmates. That’s what the High Priestess told me in my past life while trying to dissuade me from going through the ritual that would keep me around for half a century. She said no matter how many lives our paths crossed, it would never end well. I don’t think I entirely believed her back then. After all, she was the same person who took Ruby’s life with a lie. She could have been lying to get out of performing the ritual because it was forbidden and would cost her. Even if she was telling the truth, it wouldn’t have changed my mind. It’s okay if I never get to be with her, as long as I can protect her. I had hope that would be for at least a few years before my spirit dissipated. But all I’ve gotten are a few months so far. And unless I convince Gwen to give Stefan another chance, that might be all that I get. We make the switch in the morning. I told Stefan I can rob him of his body. I was bluffing. I’ll be lucky if I can hol
Stefan’s POV I catch Gwen just before she hits the couch behind her. Her limp body falls into my arms and I lift her, holding her against my body. This is not one of the scenarios I had in mind when I imagined how it would be when I saw her again. I imagined she’d be mad and say she hates me–and I could see that in her eyes when I walked into the room a moment ago. But I didn’t imagine seeing me would be so horrible for her that she’d pass out. “Where’s her room?” I ask the vampire. “Can you get the healer? I’ll make a call.” When the vampire came to me not long ago, I wasn’t at the pack. I was in possibly the hundredth town I’ve been to in the past five months, looking for her. “This way,” he says, leaving the room. I follow him into the hallway and up a flight of stairs. He branches off on the third floor. He opens a door to the east and I walk through it into a large bedroom. “Make the call,” the vampire tells me as I lay Gwen on the bed. “I don’t want to spook anyone.” I
Five Months Later It’s been five months since Alexander died. In that time, I’ve not left the castle. I could go anywhere I wanted, but that’s the thing. I don’t want to go anywhere. Not for another two months, at least. When the baby comes, I cannot stay here. It’s fine to isolate myself in the middle of the jungle with no contact with the outside world save for a vampire butler who refuses to leave, but I cannot do that to a child. When she comes–according to Phillip, who can sense a ton of things I’d normally need an ultrasound for, it’s a girl–I want to give her a normal life. As normal as I can before she grows up and finds out she is a werewolf. I don’t plan on looking for a werewolf community. There are werewolves who live in the human world, perfectly hidden. As long as I raise and teach her well, it can be just the two of us, living a peaceful life away from the chaos in the supernatural world. When I leave the castle, I intend to move to one of the houses Alexander lef
Gwen’s POV I wake up in the middle of the night to strange sounds coming from the hallway. I sit up in bed and listen. When a feminine scream rends the air, I jump out of bed and rush for the door. When I get to the hallway, I see a woman outside Alexander’s door. She turns around when I appear, and on seeing me, rushes towards me. “Help me! They are trying to–” She comes to a sudden stop as a stricken look crosses over her face. She stumbles back, eyeing me with suspicion. “Are you one of them?” Phillip appears from Alexander’s room and I walk over, looking between him and the woman. She is human. “What is going on?” “Don’t worry about it,” he tells me. “Go back to sleep.” The woman is looking between us, pressing herself against the wall. I look at her. “It’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you.” There’s only one reason a human would be in a vampire’s castle. But as long as I’m here, no one’s getting drained. She looks at me with wide, terrified eyes, unsure whether to trust me.
Stefan’s POV “So you went to bed with a vampire,” I mutter into the dark room after Eric is done with his story. ‘After everything I’ve said, that’s what has left an impression on you?’ I sigh and rub a hand over my face. “You have faith in this vampire, but you have no idea what he has been up to for the past five centuries. He is working with an asshole like Theodore. Maybe Gwen is not as safe with him as you think. Maybe at some point, his dark nature caught up with him and he found everything he did back then laughable. Maybe he took her so he could do what he failed to do back then.” He is quiet. And that means he knows I could be right. ‘But she is still alive,’ he says after a moment. ‘I would feel it if she died, no matter where she is. He wouldn’t keep her alive if he was back to his true nature.’ “There are worse things than death,” I whisper. What if he is torturing her? She is a werewolf, so he cannot drink her blood. If he regrets the things he did for her hundreds
Five Hundred Years Ago The vampire disappeared right in front of their eyes. Eric hated it. It was the most annoying ability those cursed creatures had. When they knew it was a losing battle, they avoided all contact with werewolves. Because once a werewolf got their claws or fangs into their undead bodies, they couldn’t get away. With the vampire gone and the High Priestess done with her ritual, he rushed to the altar and fell to his knees. He unfastened the ropes around Ruby’s limbs and gathered her in his arms. Tears blurred his sight as he called her name, stroked her face, embraced her limp body close. She was gone. It felt like someone had reached into his chest and tore his heart out. How could he have such a connection to a human? He had never understood his feelings towards her. At twenty eight, he was yet to find his destined mate. He should have met her about a decade ago. He assumed she was already dead. Was that why he had been able to fall for her so hard?