Tyrant (Scars of the Wraiths #2)(110)

It took several minutes before Anstice moved up her body to her throat and the process repeated. Once both wounds were healed, she ran her hands lightly over Rayne’s body and heat slowly warmed her skin and color rose in her cheeks.

Anstice sat back on her heels. “She’ll be weak from the blood loss, but she’ll be okay.”

I closed my eyes briefly as relief sifted through me. I didn’t want to feel that shit again. Running. Not being able to get to her. Seeing a vampire’s teeth sink into her.

Rayne didn’t need this shit in her life.

I hadn’t noticed Keir, but he now stood behind Anstice and helped her to her feet. “You good?” he asked.

She frowned. “I should be asking you that. You’re covered in blood.”

“Not my blood, babe.”

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Good to hear, honey.” Then she turned to me. “Are you okay?”

I nodded and I did what I couldn’t do the last time. “Thank you.”

She smiled. “You’re welcome.” Then she walked away with Keir toward the commotion with Damien and his Ink in the other room.

I lifted Rayne into my arms, stood, and locked my gaze on Waleron. “Don’t give a shit what you say or think about it.” He stiffened. “Your daughter is mine.”





I watched Damien pace back and forth, his eyes every so often locking on me and Simian. Balen’s Ink matched his steps as if a shadow, except this shadow could kill with one leap. Simian protected me from the Scars and I knew why. I was their enemy. Liam might be dead and I was free from his commands, but that didn’t change the fact I was a vampire with the dangerous ability to change water into blood.

I hated it.

My mother hated it. Constantly on the run from vampires. Hiding. Until she couldn’t hide anymore.

I couldn’t exist as a vampire. And I didn’t want to. Calmness had settled over me now that Liam was dead, almost as if I was normal. But I’d never be normal again. The bloodthirst remained. It always would.

Damien.

I looked over at him—hands clenched, jaw tight, scowl fierce as he paced twenty feet away.

It was him.

All this time.

He was who had kept me alive and sane for so long. Every day I’d fought against Turning because I craved him. Needed his touch. The way he rested his hand on my head. How his heart beat beneath my cheek on his chest. The way he looked at me, afraid to touch me in case he couldn’t stop.

Tears filled the corners of my eyes, spilled over the lids, and trickled down my cheeks. My head lowered and I felt the soothing caress of Damien’s Ink on my lower back. He knew. He knew how I felt.

Anguish smothered me like a blanket. Images of him giving me his blood. The sacrifice he made when he knew it was against the Scars’ law. His sacrifice for months on end.

Our baby.

Our loss.

Peaches. God, what started it all.

“Abby.” Waleron strode past Balen’s Ink, who snarled, but one glance from Waleron and it quickly lay down with a whine. He stopped within two feet of me and Simian.

I wiped the tears with the back of my arm and raised my chin. It was time. I had no intention of being kept in a cage like a wild zoo animal.

I reached up and placed my hand on Simian’s cheek. “I have to go with Waleron.”

Simian allowed me to turn around to face him, but he had yet to completely let me go. I leaned closer, standing on my tiptoes as I whispered to him, “Look after him, Simian. Listen to him. You must go to him now. He wants you to go to him.”

I kept my back to Damien as Simian released me and disappeared into the string of light that linked him to Damien.

Waleron came up next to me and the smell of his blood was a strong reminder of why I’d walked to my death.

I swallowed several times before I was able to form the words. “I’m ready.” I’d never be ready, not really. I loved life. Before all this, I’d done everything I could to enjoy it. But then that’s what led me here.

“Ready for what?” Damien asked as he approached. Balen’s Ink followed, snarling. He stood in front of me and Waleron, blocking Damien’s path to me.

I kept my head lowered and my eyes hidden. He’d know. He’d see it in my face.

“Ready for what?” Damien demanded.

“Damien,” Keir said, approaching. “She has chosen this.”

“Chosen what?” he retorted.

No one said anything. Then his eyes widened when he realized. An anguished roar ripped through the air, as if it would tear apart every soul within its reach. He dove for me, but Waleron yanked me out of his reach and Keir and Balen’s Ink took him to the floor. Jedrik, Delara, and Tye ran over to help.

“No. Fuck no,” Damien shouted. “Abbs, don’t do it.”

They held him down as he fought like a madman. The sound of scuffling feet and grunts mixed with his furious shouts as he tried desperately to get free.

Waleron headed for the door. I followed.

“Abby.” This time his shout was a long, drawn-out cry. “Jesus, don’t you dare f*ckin’ leave me.”

I choked on a sob, my fist to my mouth. I kept walking.

“Damn it, Waleron. Don’t take her from me. She’s all I have.”

Waleron’s steps remained steady.