Tyrant (Scars of the Wraiths #2)

“Are we done?” Delara asked. “‘Cause I’m beat and need a shower.”


“Jesus Christ, Delara,” Jedrik said and moaned.

“Waleron, maybe this conversation should be done in—” Keir began, but was cut off by Hack.

“Are we talking the vampire Liam?”

Keir gave him a shut-the-fuck-up glare.

Anstice stepped closer to Delara so their shoulders touched.

Finn moaned as he flopped on the floor.

I was so pissed off that I couldn’t speak. Edan and now Liam. What was she doing? A vampire? Our enemy. If the Wraiths got hold of this, they’d force me to put her in Rest.

“Your blood?” I asked.

If she allowed Liam to drink from her, I’d have no choice but to put her in Rest, and that would be the last fragile hold to my existence.

“Of course not,” she replied, and the vise on my heart—if you could call it a heart—eased a minute amount.

I gave a curt nod.

How could I stop her from self-destructing? I saw it every time I looked into her eyes, the pain, and the hurt. If I could, I’d stay away from her, but that was impossible for more reasons than her being a Scar.

I had to get the fuck out of here before I did or said anything I’d regret. “End it.” I shifted my gaze to Anstice. “Let’s go.”

Anstice squeezed Delara’s hand and walked to the bottom of the stairs, grabbed her purse, and lifted it onto her shoulder. Keir followed her, whispering something.

Jedrik said nothing as he got up, brushed past Delara, and went downstairs to the Tomb where his bedroom was located. Hack went back to playing whatever game on his cell and made his way back upstairs to the attic.

Delara remained where she was, frozen, watching me with her exotic eyes. Scared? Damn right she was. But not that I’d hurt her. I’d already done that, but I was betting she was scared of what was becoming of herself.

I couldn’t stop it.

Because the only way was to send her away.

And I couldn’t do that.

No, I wouldn’t. I had an oath to protect her and I’d never break it. I needed her here. With me.

“I’m sorry,” Delara said and I knew she was sincere by the way her teeth chewed her lower lip. She’d always done that.

“You have to stop.” I knew what she was doing, and it would only make it worse. I’d self-destructed eons ago, now I merely existed within the numbness.

I turned and took two, then three strides before hearing words that sent a sharp, jagged spear through the top of my head to my feet, nailing me to the floor.

“Damn it, I want him back. The man I fell in love with. The man who loved me with everything he was.”

Without turning, I said, “He’s dead, Delara. That man is dead. You need to accept that and move on.” Then I walked out.

Anstice followed me to the car. She put her hand on the door before I could open it.

“You love her, don’t you?” she said.

I tensed. “We are not discussing this, Anstice.”

She crossed her arms and cocked her hip. “It needs discussing. Didn’t you listen to her? She slept with Liam? A vampire, Waleron. She could have taken his blood and then she’d be lost to us. To you.”

“I repeat, this is not up for discussion.” My voice lowered in warning, but Anstice was a redhead and a Healer, which meant feisty and caring.

“You keep her on a leash. Always needing to know where she is, what she’s doing, but you missed this. We all did.” She was right and that worried me. “You won’t love her—at least not openly—yet you keep tabs on her, and it’s not like the rest of us. You protect her. You were crazed when she took off after you slept with Trinity. That killed her you know.”

“I had no choice,” I said, feeling the tightness in my chest.

“Bullshit. You slept with Trinity for her stupid visions. The ever-sacrificial lamb for his Scars. Well, that day you sacrificed Delara’s heart. Put it on a spit and let it rotate for the last two and a half years. No wonder she’s sleeping with your enemies. She wants you to burn like she is.”

I slammed my fist into the hood of the car and Anstice jumped, but stood her ground. “Do you love her?” she bravely or foolishly repeated.

I met her eyes, unflinching. “Yes,” I said. But it didn’t matter.

“Then why, Waleron? Why?”

I stiffened, grabbed the door handle, and yanked the door open. “I can’t have her. This conversation is over. Don’t ever bring it up again. Get in.”

She paused, eyes softening. “Whether you can’t or won’t have her you need to unclip the leash and let her go.”





Toronto

“NOOO!”

I jolted awake to the same horrific scream from the rooftop. One I swore I never wanted to hear again. Never thought I would.

I leapt off the lounge chair I’d fallen asleep in last night, knife drawn as I scanned the bedroom.

My eyes landed on Rayne frantically wrestling with the sheets that had twisted around her legs.