Yet we can’t turn women unless they’re marked. It’s maddening at points because of how many problems it would solve if we could.
Did I turn Chloe into a ghoul? Did I fuck up the process?
I can’t believe that I did.
No, I couldn’t have fucked it up.
She is my soulmarked, there is no way around that.
We both know that she is and will forever be a part of my soul, as I am hers.
But what exactly happened?
She fought her death hard, like she was fighting her past.
Does she blame me for the pain her birth brought on her?
I remember looking up at her mother’s sweaty face as she held Chloe in her arms. I remember her being named. I also remember the nuns taking her away.
It was all so easy... A child was born with the mark. Take the child, let the parent die in an accident, and then train the child to be a stooge for the Order.
The hunter in the basement is proof of that. Especially since it seems the Order has them drinking blood as some sort of protection.
Was his first mission to see if it would work against me?
Sighing, I take the shredded remains of her garments and throw them across the room. Then I pull the sheet up her wondrous body. She won’t feel temperatures now, but I figure some modesty is better than nothing.
It’s a shame though, I think as I allow the memories of her body thrashing against my own to cloud my eyes, such a beautiful woman shouldn’t have to cover perfection.
I wonder if they ever thought of the meaning behind her name—fertility.
Did they understand this beautiful creature before me would bring light into my life?
I very much doubt it. The Order cares very little for such things.
Short-sighted humans.
Pulling the sheet past her mark, I shiver at the sensation of soft cotton rubbing against me.
How the fuck did it do that?
Tracing my finger along the mark, I feel as if a finger is going up against my spine.
Unholy gods, we’re truly connected.
That means the turning was successful.
My body feels so alive with her blood flowing through me, it’s as if all my synapses are firing for the first time in years.
My eyes crave to watch her body go through all its changes, but through the minutes that have gone by since she entered chrysalis, my cock has remained rock hard. Absurdly so.
Even after spending myself inside of her, my cock is fully engorged. It most likely wouldn’t be wise to be so vulnerable when she awakens in her feral state.
The frenzy is never easy, no matter who it is.
She’ll sleep like the dead for however long it takes for her body to go from human to vampire. Every change is different. For some, it only takes mere hours. Others, a full day.
It’s a waiting game.
A waiting game that is pins and needles for the one who waits.
Pushing her arms to her sides and closing her legs, I’m forced to think of something beyond her for the moment.
Or, well, at least beyond her in this bed with me.
She’ll need necessities, like food.
Standing from the side of the bed, I pull my pants on then look for my shirt. And for a second time in two days, I’ve found myself with a shredded shirt.
Fuck.
I don’t even remember taking it off.
Searching around the room, I don’t see any spare clothing, and that’s going to be an issue for the both of us.
I’ll be damned if anyone sees her in her raw naked form. She’s fucking mine. She’s under my fucking protection now, and no one is ever going to pull us apart again.
I’ve wallowed in too much self-pity all these years. I’ve become too soft for my own good. It isn’t her fault that I allowed myself to become that way, but it must change if I want to take hold of this city and my coven’s fate.
Was it whatever cancer I felt eating away at me that made me go soft? Could it have been my own weakness of mind?
I don’t have the answers to those questions, and I don’t really give a fuck.
I can feel the blood flowing through me, and I can feel her essence reaching inside of me. It feels like a rampaging river ripping through my veins. Each and every drop of her blood is tearing through me, pushing open long-dormant parts.
Leaning my head back, I roar into the night.
My throat aches from the challenge I issue to all who would come between us.
I’ve claimed what’s mine.
Challengers will fall to their deaths if the come before me.
There’s nothing now to keep us apart.
Except for her to fully turn.
Fuck.
My roar goes unanswered in the room. Its reverberations settle quickly, and I’m again left alone with my thoughts.
Moving to her side, I look down at her face. Gently brushing a stray lock of blonde hair from her cheek, I tuck it behind her ear. I still can’t process how beautiful she is. Or how remarkable it feels to have finally taken her as my own.