Unleash (Vampire Erotic Theatre Romance Series Book 6) Page 19

  Why?

  For the past two thousand years, he had caused her nothing but shame and suffering. If anyone wanted him to die for his sins, it should be her. She shouldn’t want to save him. She should ask her master to kill him.

  “Take me away from here, Aurora.” He rose to his feet and towered over her.

  She shook her head. “Not until you face your darkest hour.”

  His spine froze. Dread weighed heavily in his stomach.

  “No.” He glared at her. She wouldn’t. The look in her eyes said that she would.

  She meant to keep him here until…

  Antoine burst through the doors behind her, dressed in a long winter coat over his black waistcoat and trousers, his expression frantic as his gaze darted around.

  The weather turned, white flakes falling thick and fast, driven across the land by a bitter wind.

  Snow paused and felt the blood on his hands and his face, chilling his skin. He stared at Antoine.

  Blood.

  He needed to feed.

  The female hadn’t satisfied his hunger. He still wanted more.

  He dropped her corpse into the rose bushes and advanced on the new male.

  CHAPTER 15

  Snow tried to stop himself but his body wouldn’t listen.

  The dark urge to taste the new male’s blood consumed him, driving him to stalk towards him where he stood near the chateau, a horrified expression twisting his face and the scent of his fear and anger tainting the freezing night air.

  A blizzard swept across the land, thick white flakes obscuring Snow’s vision and numbing his wet hands and face.

  The male spoke to him, words that swam in his ears and made no sense.

  When he was within striking distance, Snow launched himself at the dark-haired male.

  The male evaded him, coming around behind him in one fluid motion. Snow turned on the spot and lashed out, claws sharp now and swiping with deadly intent. The male barely avoided them, leaning back and losing his footing. He stumbled off the edge of the snow-covered patio and onto the rose bushes, close to the corpse of the female.

  The male looked down at her, tears in his pale blue eyes. His anger called to Snow, a hint of darkness that laced his scent and would taint his blood. Familiar darkness.

  Snow shoved away from the calm that tried to overcome him and attacked again, a merciless combination of claws, fists and feet. The male defended well but Snow was stronger, far older, easily able to land some blows, ripping material and cleaving flesh.

  Spilling blood.

  Blood that smelled so familiar.

  He didn’t want to do this. He glanced at the dead female, recognising her in the midst of the tempest of his fury and thirst. Mama. What had he done?

  He snarled and lashed out at the male, catching him unawares and cutting across his chest.

  The male fought back, his attacks increasing in strength and determination.

  Snow tried to hold back but couldn’t stop himself from throwing all of his power into each blow, beating the male into submission. With each strike that pummelled flesh, each slash that spilled dark blood, his hunger worsened, taking more control, forcing him to watch what he was doing, unable to even attempt to stop himself.

  Snow hated himself as he rained fury down upon the male, mindless and vicious, intent on destroying someone he loved with every drop of blood in his body.

  The male desperately defended himself but it was no use. He would weaken and then he would die, but at least he was fighting. So many of them hadn’t fought him. They had died too easily, failing to satisfy his lust for violence.

  He spoke to Snow again, a strange look in his blue eyes, eyes that were so familiar.

  Blood that was so familiar.

  Darkness tainted it.

  Darkness like the beast he had become.

  They were one and the same.

  “Snow.” That word breached the haze in his mind and the scent of his blood cleared more of it, bringing him back to awareness again and giving him the strength to fight.

  Antoine.

  His beloved brother.

  Snow fought his terrible affliction with everything he had, clawing himself to spill his own blood, desperate to stop himself. If he could weaken himself enough, he wouldn’t have the strength to fight Antoine. He could save his brother.

  Antoine collapsed onto the thick layer of snow on the lawn, blood flowing freely from the deep lacerations across his arms and torso, turning the white into black in the night. He gasped for air, his heartbeat erratic, and Snow roared his agony at the cloud-strewn sky as he realised he had regained control too late to save him. What had he done?

  “Antoine.” His own voice sounded foreign to him, the taste of blood like bitter ashes in his mouth now. His heart shattered at the sight of his brother laying broken and close to death, fighting for his life even as it seeped out of him.

  Snow ran to him and his knees hit the hard ground beside him. He slashed his wrist and held it to his brother’s mouth. When he didn’t drink, his eyes staring sightlessly at the heavens as his heart gave its last beat, Snow raised his brother’s head with one hand and tried again, letting his wretched blood pour into his mouth.

  The world faded back to the present and Snow leaned over, pressed his hands into the overgrown grass, and retched. He shook all over, sick to his stomach from the vivid imagery and the things he had done. He had never dreamed of the full brutality of that night. He could see that now.

  He had always seen an edited version. The highlights with the worst parts removed.

  He had killed everyone he loved. His aunts, uncles and cousins. His mother. His father.

  His beloved brother.

  He hadn’t just savaged Antoine.

  He had killed him.

  His brother had died and only Snow’s tainted blood had given his body the vital energy it needed to kick his heart back into life.

  Snow closed his eyes, causing tears to drop, and frowned, grinding his teeth together as the pain of it all overwhelmed him. He couldn’t bear it. It was too much, ripping and tearing at him, making him want to throw up again. His limbs trembled and his heart pounded, as erratic as Antoine’s pulse had been as he lay dying because of him, bleeding out from wounds that he had never truly healed.

  Antoine still bore scars from that night, both emotionally and physically.

  Who had suffered more?

  Snow, who had committed the atrocities, unable to stop himself even when he desperately wanted to?

  Or Antoine, who had come upon the aftermath and witnessed the full horror of what Snow had done, seeing his family torn to pieces, and his parents butchered, and then having his own brother, a male who had acted more like a father to him, try to destroy him too?

  Antoine should have killed him that night. He should have taken his life as payment for the brief taste of death that Snow had given him. He had asked it of his brother. His brother had refused, making him swear that he would never take his own life.

  Snow had been seeking his death ever since.

  Aurora was right about him, but she was wrong to choose this method as a way of making him want to live.

  He looked up at her, his dark silvery eyebrows furrowed and his body trembling violently as he struggled with everything he had witnessed and the incredible pain it caused him.

  He had killed his brother and he had forgotten all about it, tried to erase it from his memories, pretending it had never happened. Antoine knew though. Antoine would have remembered slipping from this world into the endless dark embrace of death, an embrace his own flesh and blood had delivered him into, together with the rest of their family.

  Snow growled and gritted his teeth, tears burning his eyes. How could Antoine look at him with any shred of affection? How could he bear to see his face, knowing what he had done to him and their family? Snow deserved to die for his sins. He felt it now more than ever. He had no right to continue living in this world when he had taken ever
ything from Antoine, replacing a world filled with love and light with one filled with pain and darkness.

  He was wretched. Despicable.

  Aurora stood over him, compassion in her beautiful eyes, hope and faith that he didn’t want to shake, even when he needed to. He couldn’t bear her looking at him like that when he felt so vile and disgusting, and deserving of the death she wanted him to forsake in favour of living.

  “Showing me death and the horrific things I have done will not give me reason to live.”

  Sorrow edged her gaze and she eased down into a crouch beside him, leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Her lips were warm against his clammy cold skin and he closed his eyes as that heat spread through him, erasing some of his pain and giving him a fragment of comfort.

  The scents around him swirled and he didn’t need to open his eyes to know she had taken him away from the mansion, but he wasn’t back at Vampirerotique. The temperature had dropped and snow cushioned his knees and his hands, freezing his skin.

  Snow opened his eyes as Aurora drew away from him and rose to her feet. He eased onto his feet as he looked around.

  A pristine snowfield stretched around him in the darkness, inky swaths of trees cutting through it in places, and blended seamlessly into the high mountains that reached up into the black sky. The aurora borealis was in full play above him, beautiful and breathtaking as the turquoise, blue and pink ribbons fluttered and danced.

  “Where are we?” he whispered, afraid to believe it until she said it.

  “You know where we are,” she softly said and slipped her hand into his, holding it gently. It comforted him this time, restoring his strength and soothing his weary soul, easing some of the pain in his fractured dark heart. “You said that showing you terrible things wouldn’t save you… so I decided I would show you something good… a good memory.”

  Laughter rang through the silence.

  Snow whipped his head around and saw himself as a boy, swathed in pale furs, running circles around his parents near the fire outside the dark stone castle on the hill.

  His mother gave chase, her own darker furs shifting with each step and her pale hair fluttering behind her. The boy squealed and erupted into another fit of giggles. His father watched them both with a beautifully indulgent smile as they played together.

  It pained Snow to see them again, to see them happy and know what lay in store for them.

  He should have died this night. Aurora shouldn’t have saved him.

  The younger version of himself spotted the owl flying overhead and gave chase, ignoring his mother’s warnings. Snow tracked him with his gaze as he struggled through the deep freshly fallen powder, coming towards him, his arms reaching for the bird.

  He had wanted to catch it. He had been desperate to kill it and show his father that he was growing up and able to hunt for himself.

  He had wanted his father to be proud of him.

  Snow lurched forwards when the boy ran onto the lake and stopped himself from calling out in warning. He flinched as the ominous sound of the ice cracking echoed around the mountains. The memory of feeling it give under his feet terrified him even now. He had known what was coming and had known he was powerless to stop it.

  The boy went under.

  Snow took a laboured step forwards and then held himself back, resisting racing onto the ice to save him. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening now. Nothing he did would change the course of history, no matter how much he desired that.

  A beautiful light filled the sky and he froze, his breath leaving him as Aurora descended from the darkness, her small pale wings pinned back and her hair streaming behind her like black ribbons.

  Her master called to her, warning her to return, but she ignored him.

  She hit the lake with such force that a plume of water shot into the air, spraying chunks of ice onto the frozen surface. A heartbeat later, she broke the surface, wings flapping furiously, and water cascading from her and from the younger version of himself.

  She landed heavily on the snowy shore and he saw her fear as she resuscitated him, her shaking hands pumping his chest.

  Her mouth moved but no words came out. She hadn’t been allowed to speak. It had been her punishment.

  Snow moved closer, drawn to her as he had been that night, watching her as she smoothed the wet hair from the boy’s brow and stared down at him. Singing to him. He couldn’t hear her now but he knew that was what she was doing.

  She glowed with light and purity as she watched over him, her expression revealing her agony as she waited for him to wake.

  Aurora’s hand squeezed his and he looked back at her, his eyes wide, feeling as entranced by her now as he had been back then.

  The boy stirred and Snow watched as he communicated with the young Aurora, and then her master appeared. He saw her pain and fear as her master backhanded the boy and she desperately tried to stop him, and tried to go to the boy to help him.

  When her master grabbed her and spread his pure white wings, lifting off into the air with her, the scene around Snow shifted. The arctic landscape softened, mountains becoming pale buildings, snow becoming soft cloud.

  Snow growled when her master shimmered into being, holding Aurora by her wrist, and chastised her. She didn’t deserve punishment for what she had done. If her master was angry over her actions, he should have taken it out on Snow, not on Aurora. The male angel shoved her backwards and released her.

  The young girl stood quietly before the adult male, her eyes fixed on his feet, shame written across her petite features. Snow wanted her to rail at the male again, not meekly stand in silence as he berated her.

  The dark-haired male struck her hard, bloodying her lips, but the girl didn’t break. She took the blows and his harsh words without shedding a single tear. Snow clenched his fists, desire to destroy her master burning in his heart, fiercer than ever now that he knew what the bastard had done to her.

  Before he could take a step to intervene, even when he knew it was pointless, the world changed again, revealing Snow’s room in the castle.

  The young Aurora appeared beside his large bed, watching over him as he slumbered, healing from the blow delivered by the same angel who had struck her and bruised her cheek.

  Time skipped forwards and always she was there with him, standing sentinel beside his bed as he recovered, and then throughout other times in his life.

  She had always been there with him, sometimes with sorrow in her striking green-to-blue eyes and sometimes with joy.

  He saw her maturing at the same rate as he did, becoming more beautiful each time, but her wings becoming darker, more and more of her feathers turning black.

  Snow despised himself for what he had done to her and that she had damned herself by saving him that night as a boy.

  The world came back and he stared at the frigid dark landscape, standing beside Aurora and not feeling the cold as arctic winds blasted against him, sweeping down from the mountains and stirring the snow so it danced across the valley. He didn’t look at her. His gaze remained rooted on the lake.

  “Tell me again why you did it,” he whispered, the gale catching the words and carrying them away.

  She laced her fingers with his and squeezed his hand, her gaze fixed on the distance too. “I did it because I saw a boy with a warm heart, full of joy and happiness, and I wanted to know that boy.”

  She looked up at him.

  “I saw the good in you, Snow, and I believed you deserved a chance at life, and you would bring happiness to others too. I still see the good in you.”

  Snow sighed, his breath turning to fog in the air before the wind carried it away too. “I brought pain to others, and evil to this world.”

  Aurora shook her head, raised her other hand, and touched his cheek. “You brought so much happiness. Your parents adored you, and Antoine loves you with all of his heart. You gave them joy and showered them with affection.”

  Snow knocked her hand away
from his face. “And then I killed them.”

  “No, you did not kill them. The demon that lives within you killed them, not you. I believe you are strong enough to master it and reclaim your life if only you would fight,” she whispered gently, the belief in her words touching him even when he tried to deny it.

  His strength faded again and his shoulders sagged, and he could no longer resist looking down at her. He needed to see her unwavering faith shining in her eyes, and her affection for him, tenderness he had come to crave.

  “I have fought hard for so many years,” he said in a tight voice, aching at the thought of everything he had endured and weak from his battle against his bloodlust tonight.

  Aurora shook her head, the raven waves of her hair swaying with the motion, caressing shoulders that he wanted to kiss. He wanted to lose himself in her and forget everything he had done, even when he knew that wouldn’t change anything. He couldn’t go back now that he had remembered the full run of events that had happened that night. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore.

  “No, you have always sought death, ever since that night.” She held his gaze and touched his cheek, softly stroking it, soothing his anger before it could rise again. “You don’t think it that way, but it has always been like it. I have watched millions of lives play out in this world and many of them chose the easy way out.”

  Aurora cupped his cheeks and stared deep into his eyes, tears rising into hers as her eyebrows furrowed and he sensed a hint of her pain through her touch.

  “Death is often so much easier than life. Life is difficult… life is a constant struggle… especially when the span of your life is as infinite as ours. Death is simple and easy. In death, you do not need to live with your sins or bear the pain that beats within your heart,” she said, her voice growing tighter with each word and tears balancing on her long dark lashes, on the brink of tumbling onto her pale cheeks. He wanted to capture them with his thumbs before they could fall. He didn’t want her to cry because of him. He didn’t deserve those tears. She sniffed and stroked his cheek. “I know your pain, Snow, and how it makes you suffer… and I know the release death would grant you is temptation incarnate… but it is not the solution. Sometimes the right path is the difficult and treacherous one, the hard one. Do not succumb to the lure of the easy one, for it will not give you the peace you seek.”