Little Lies by Elena Reyes (ebook reader for laptop .TXT) 📗

the bone and tossing her leg behind me. “Ouch. That does look painful.” Her whimper is a sweet little melody that I want more of, and I tear the other in the same manner. “Do you remember that day outside the café when you backhanded me, threatening to do more than that?”

“Please stop. You won.”

“I’m going to return the favor.” At my words, she tries to crawl away, but I reaffirm my position, dodging her hands as they come for my face. However, she’s not as fast and I have a chunk of her face in my hand before she can scream.

Her right cheek and half her lips are gone and blood seeps from the wounds: the same area she hit when I was defenseless.

Then again on her chest, exposing the muscles and ligaments below.

She might be a hybrid, but her human side is stronger in this instance than her vampire.

She’ll die like one.

Elise lays limp beneath me now, no fight left as the puddle beneath her grows.

“You once told me I was weak. Not worthy.” My fingers crawl over her exposed flesh toward her neck. Slowly. Meticulously, while also hoping she’d fight back. Elise doesn’t though. Instead, she shows me the scared girl she’s always been. “You could’ve had a beautiful life alongside your family. Watched them grow, have kids of their own, and now there will be no legacy left behind. Your name will be erased, and the last name Veltross dies with you.”

With that, I sink my nails in and tear out her throat, watching as the last of her life’s essence stains the ground and her breathing becomes shallow. Her heart stops beating. Her eyes are now lifeless, and I finally breathe out with peace settling into my bones.

Her death means a new beginning.

No more fighting. No more threats.

“Mortem,” I whisper low, my bloody hands touching the ground as I push the last tendrils of her energy toward death. She will no longer be of this world. She can no longer return.

I have no idea how long I sit here, lost in thought, when two strong hands lift me into a warm embrace. He will always be the right temperature to me. “Are you okay, pretty girl?”

His eyes are so warm. They hold so much love, and I cup his cheek with my blood-drenched hand and pull his mouth down to mine, kissing him with every bit of the love I hold for this wonderful man.

“I am.” And it’s the truth. I have my family back.

He may be a killer, but so am I.

He may be obsessed with me, but my need to possess might surpass his.

“And now?”

“And now…” another peck, a small bite to his bottom lip “…now we celebrate. I have over a hundred years of catching up to do, but tonight…tonight is for us.”

“For us?”

“Yes.” His eyes become hooded, the tip of his fang poking through his upper lip. “I have a king to spoil and a cock to ride.”

“Good girl.”

41

Epilogue

Queen

Six months later…

Every person inside the room stops the moment we step through the gallery’s doors. They’re watching. They’re murmuring amongst themselves about my coming out, and it’s hard to keep the smile from my blood red lips.

Theodore’s hand on the small of my back tenses a bit, his muscles coiling as one man in particular looks me up and down, lingering on the low neckline of my Venetian style dress with a dip in the front that stops at my belly button.

It’s sexy while classy. White to symbolize the innocence he adored about my humanity in this life.

It also shows off my tattoo; a similar piece to that of my king’s that encompasses from sternum to just above my mound. The dark wings of an angel stretch—are open in all their glory while adorned with beads of crystals and pearls. Yet, the focal point is a large red ruby which hangs from the longest necklace and stops a few inches from my clit.

The only color on my pale skin.

Just like Theo’s tattoo appeared when he took the throne, mine came the day he bit me. The day my mate gave me back my life.

“Down, love. The show first...” I trail off while turning toward him, my hand skimming down the front of his black dress shirt with the top two buttons undone. I flick each onyx stud on my way to the waistband of his slacks, then finger his Cartier belt with the gold buckle. “But after, you can do as you please while I help Tero and Marcia after my parents’ visit.”

“Such a lovely couple,” he remarks, knowing my punishment will outweigh his. A public death in the name of art. They fought me on this, cried and begged for their lives, but my heart held no empathy for two people who used a defenseless child for monetary gain. “Aren’t you glad I had your birth certificate tampered with when they gave you up? You could’ve been Hilary Burgess.”

“That they are, and yes. That name doesn’t suit me one bit.” The bold red carpet we walk through has security on both sides, preventing the press from coming closer. Each of them wears the emblem of the vampire monarchy, a golden pin across the right lapel of their all-black tuxes. Both male and female, they stand straight while looking ahead with serious postures and a bit of hunger on their faces.

They won’t attack, though.

Not tonight. Never in a public event.

The clear path leads to a set of wide, white marble stairs that leads to the upper floors, and no one moves until we reach the very last step and into my exhibit. Every square inch is bathed in black, the few light sources coming from the glass dome ceilings and the strategically placed soft white lighting above each piece.

The perfect mixture of innocence and sin.

Light and the dark.

The two marry together in a way that sends chills down the spines of those who have