Forever Bound Series 1-4(90)

And sometimes you needed to kill them.

Iona kept talking, and she didn’t try to pull her hand from his.

Good. He liked holding her palm against his. “My father always wanted immortality. Wanted to rule all the land he could find. He thought my mother could help him, and when she didn’t, he made sure she could never use her magic to help anyone again.”

He couldn’t believe how dark her origins were. A heavy ache had grown in his chest as he listened to her tale.

“It was him or me,” she said, and, sure enough, that stubborn chin of hers kicked up. “I knew it, so I went back to my father’s land. I slipped inside and made my way up to kill him.”

And she had. He knew that, at least, this part of her legend was true.

“I had my knife at his throat, but I couldn’t do it.” Her head sagged a bit, as if she were shamed by the memory.

Well, hell. So that part wasn’t true, either?

He’d suspected from the moment her golden eyes first opened that she wasn’t the evil bitch that rumor and legend had made her out to be. Now he knew for certain.

And that knowledge made him feel…lost.

What have I done to her?

“He laughed at my weakness and stabbed me with his sword.” Her left hand went to her side, as if touching a wound that had to be over fourteen hundred years old. “He was coming to cut off my head. H-he said that would be the way to end me.”

Her father had been right. Even a pureblood vampire wouldn’t be able to rise from a beheading.

“He’d killed my mother by taking her head. He told me that…”

Had her mother been a pureblood, too? It was possible. Maybe Iona’s father hadn’t killed her mother because the woman was a witch. Maybe he’d killed her because she was a pureblood and she’d refused to turn him into a vampire? Then the hate had eaten at him, until he’d unleashed his rage on his own child.

“As his blade came for my throat, as I felt my own blood pouring from me, and saw death coming…” Her breath whispered out. “The woman I’d been, she died. The vampire inside of me—she lived. She killed. I took that sword. Snatched it from him. Then shoved it right back into his heart.”

Jamie wanted to put his arms around her, so—screw it—he did. Jamie wrapped his arms around Iona and pulled her against his chest. She stiffened but didn’t fight his hold. Good. He couldn’t have fought her then. Her pain was too fresh. Too strong.

He didn’t want to ever cause her anymore pain.

Too late for that. You’ve stolen her life, and she doesn’t even realize it.

His jaw locked.

“When his men came and attacked, I fought back. They died. My husband was the first to fall before me.” Said flatly, as if she were yanking back on her emotions. “Then I walked away from that land, with their blood covering me.”

And the legend of the Blood Queen had been born.

“I learned an important lesson that day,” she whispered.

That her father had been better off dead? That her husband had deserved a long, brutal death?

“Even those closest to you will betray you and kill you, if they have the chance.” Her head turned, and she glanced up at him. They were close enough to kiss. “Just so you know, I won’t give you that chance.”

Jamie blinked. “I have no plans to kill you.” Keeping her alive was imperative to him. Without her, he would be dead.

Her smile was sad, and it called him a liar. “You’ve been so careful about what you revealed to me. But I know more than you think, and when I sleep, I’ll know all.”

Because powerful vampires could literally steal people’s memories with the act of blood-drinking. Their prey’s blood memories appeared to the vampires when they dreamed. Jamie knew that and he also knew that he had to stop Iona from dreaming, at least until their war with Latham was over. But, lucky for him and—I’m so sorry, Iona—unfortunately for her, he knew the lovely vampire’s weakness. So he had to use that weakness as he asked, “And you’re so eager to sleep again, are you? To close your eyes and wake to see that years have passed?”

She flinched. Jamie had hit his target, and shame burned inside of him.

“Eventually,” she said, still staring back at him with the eyes that Jamie swore could see into his soul, “I’ll have to sleep. There won’t be a choice.”

He bent forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Eventually, there won’t be a need for secrets.” They both knew he had them. “My war with Latham will be over.” But the end for him and Iona wouldn’t come any time soon.

As he pulled in her scent and felt her slender body against his, he had to ask, “Why did you kill the others?” Not the warriors on that long ago night. He would have gladly killed them himself. No, he meant the vampires that she’d brought in to her coven. “Did they turn on you, too?”

A faint furrow appeared between her brows. “What are you talking about?”

“The coven you had in LA. Why did you kill them?”

Stark pain—no, anguish—flashed in her eyes. “They’re dead?”

Oh, shit.

But then she twisted in his arms, shoved him back, and Jamie suddenly found himself on the ground with one very, very enraged pureblood vampire above him. “They’re dead?”