This man didn’t even care. He showed no more remorse, no more sadness, for the fallen vampires than the wolves. To him, everyone was disposable. And he intended to dispose of millions more before it was over. The worst part was, he was going to use me to do it. He’d use me to hunt down the wolves, force me to reveal their location, and he’d kill them all.
I would rather die on my own stake, as Delilah had done, than give up Alarick Wolf to this man. He’d already made me walk away from him, breaking the heart of the one man I loved more than anyone had a right to love. The look on Alarick’s face replayed in my mind, the utter devastation I’d caused by walking away—by following this psychopath like the sheep he said I was.
“Are you ready to join us, Timberlyn?” Mr. Ravenwood asked, a haughty smile playing over his lips even as I moved the stake to my good hand.
“Never,” I whispered, my fingers tightening on the bloody stake Viktor had pushed into my hand. I swallowed hard, trying to lift it, but I couldn’t. Everything in my body rebelled against it. He was my maker. My creator. My father. He was my commander.
But no. Fuck that. He was no father to me. He’d stolen me from my biological fathers as an infant. He hadn’t raised me and provided for me and done the best he could like my adoptive dad, either. He had done nothing but try to steal my gifts by draining every drop of blood from my body. Hell, he hadn’t even tried to make me. He’d tried to murder me. I was the one who had stolen his blood to save myself.
I was my own maker.
With all the fury I possessed, Delilah’s magic in my chest, and the strength of Viktor’s blood charging through my veins, I forced my hand to rise. I forced myself to go against every instinct in my body. The instincts that had led me into the woods to save Amy. The instincts to search for Delilah, sure that she was alive against all evidence, to save her. The instinct to find mates for the wolves, even if it meant I’d lose my own wolf, Alarick. The instinct to follow Amaya, to save her. That instinct had even pushed me to offer Mr. Wolf my blood so that he could live. I was a protector by nature.
But not today.
Today, I was a killer.
My arms felt like they were chained with steel like Delilah’s, but I forced them to move. I let rage consume me, though it felt like tearing my body in two. I planted my feet into the ground, swaying to keep upright, and I clenched my teeth with the effort, and with all the strength I possessed, I drove the stake into Mr. Ravenwood’s heart.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mr. Ravenwood stared down at the stake protruding from his chest. He raised his bewildered, disbelieving gaze to mine. I stared back. No one moved.
“You can’t,” he said, his voice faltering. “It’s impossible.”
“No, you can’t,” I said, my breath coming hard from the effort. “You can’t enslave humanity.”
Maybe I was still a protector after all.
“This isn’t over,” he said, his voice sounding weaker as he swayed on his feet. “This is bigger than me. Bigger than all of us. It’s the natural progression of things. The natural order. We’re at the top. We’ve evolved past humanity.”
I wanted to speak, but my throat felt immobilized. My feet were cemented to the ground. And pain flashed through me with each beat of my heart, as if someone were flicking a dying cigarette lighter to life against the inside of my skin.
His blood, I thought. He’s dying. I hurt because his blood is inside me.
But even as I knew the truth, I couldn’t seem to respond. Everyone was frozen in shock.
“My legacy will live forever,” Mr. Ravenwood whispered, a trickle of blood escaping the corner of his lips. “You can’t stop what I’ve started. Soon, the world will be ours.”
But nothing would be his. Nothing but death.
He sank to his knees, drew a ragged breath, and coughed out a spray of blood. Then, he collapsed to his side in the dirt, his body looking small and so very vulnerable as he curled into the fetal position.
“You—!” Imani’s shriek echoed through the woods like the scream of an injured bird. She flew at me, her eyes flames of rage, her hands extended into claws. Viktor leapt between us, and she smashed into him. I stumbled backwards, unable to understand what I’d done for a moment.
“Go!” Viktor yelled.
I turned and sprinted up the hill, my legs suddenly alive, burning with energy that needed to be spent, with strength that he’d lent me. He didn’t have to tell me where to go. I knew. He’d told me he wanted me to be happy, and there was only one person who could make that happen. All along, he had known that. And he had loved me enough to let me go to Alarick, the same way I loved Alarick enough to let him go.
Even as I ran, a sob rose in my throat. Viktor had known what would happen if I killed Ravenwood. He’d planned it this way, given me strength, so that I’d have a moment to escape. And I knew now what that meant for him, too. He couldn’t hold off all those vampires, not even if he hadn’t given me his strength. He’d probably known all along, but it only truly sank in as I burst through the tingling magic of the wards. That’s when pain ripped through me like my blood had turned
