“I came to hear the words from your own mouth,” I snarl, tightening my grip on Kleora. The scent of charring skin invades my nostrils.
Lukain spreads his arms wide. “You merely must ask them, little grimmer.”
“Did you betray me to Alacine Mortis?”
He says nothing for a moment, putting on that mask of indifference I could never penetrate, never see through . . . except the one night we spent in each other’s arms.
“Yes.”
My heart plunges.
I’d known the truth, deep inside, and yet nothing could prepare me to hear it spoken so solidly and plainly from his lips.
“It was the only way I could think to free my mind of the obsession I had for you,” he adds.
My nostrils flare, chin nodding down to the wheezing vampiress in my arms. “And so thisbitch, this chronicler, was meant to be my replacement, Lukain? Your new obsession?”
“No one could ever replace you, Sephania.”
Kleora wails. “Master, no! You don’t mean it!”
“Hm.” I purse my lips, nodding.
Then I squeeze the chain deep into Kleora’s neck. It rips through her skin like butter—
And the chronicler’s head erupts like a flaming torch.
I skitter back as she burns, wheezing past melting flesh, her porcelain sheen finally ruined and popping and disintegrating for good.
The three of us watch as Madame Kleora runs in a circle, hands flapping while her head burns. She hits a wrong edge of the broken table, flips—
And I step out of the way to see her sail through the window, into the rising dawn, screaming all the way down to her doom.
Lukain’s jaw flexes but he makes no mention of his thrall’s demise.
“Sephania, it is time,” Skartovius urges, putting a hand to my elbow.
Fists pound on the door behind Lukain. “Overseer Verant, are you in there? We’re breaking the door open!”
“The locks are strong,” Lukain tells us. “The door is fortified. We have time.”
“We don’t,” Skar growls.
Lukain smiles at him. “Lord Skartovius Ashfen.” He tsks and turns his gaze to me. “You’ve gone and allied yourself with the killer of my father. My enemy.”
“You abandoned and betrayed me, Lukain. You left me no choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
Skar steps forward. “That’s my line. You sacrificed Sephania for your ambition, power, and status. I would sacrificeeverythingto see Sephania safe, content, and queen of this world. You and I are not the same, Lukain Mortis.”
I grit my teeth. My eyes become dewy from Skar’s words—the finality of this rescue. A farewell to my past life, with closure, and a welcoming of my new life.
“Goodbye, Lukain,” I murmur past a tight throat.
Lukain takes a step forward, showing the first sign of fear and regret in his eyes since he appeared as Overseer Verant in the doorway.
The door splinters from a harsh pounding behind it. A few more strikes and it’ll fall, with a vampire legion swarming us.
