Chapter 358: My Confidence
Meredith.
I didn’t know what to feel—pride, relief, disgust, or all three of them tangled together.
My stomach churned, and I took a step back, pressing a shaking hand against my chest. I had just killed something—Someone.
No, not someone—a monster, but still...
My breath hitched. I pressed a shaking hand over my mouth, feeling the sticky trace of blood on my skin.
My mind refused to settle around it as my heart pounded against my ribs, wild and uneven.
"Get a hold of yourself," Valmora commanded. "More vampires are coming." Her voice sliced through my haze.
Immediately, my eyes flew to the glass doors. The world outside was still in chaos. Humans were screaming and fleeing, and cars were honking. But now, there was something else.
A familiar cold and metallic scent. My fingers clenched on the edge of the table. Another vampire was close, maybe two.
I swallowed, forcing air into my lungs. My pulse still thundered, but beneath the fear, something else stirred, something dark and steady.
Just then, the door opened, and silence fell again, but I didn’t make any attempt to move.
Slow and heavy footsteps echoed across the tiles. I kept my eyes fixed on the melting smear of blood that marked where the last vampire had fallen.
I could feel his cold and commanding presence without looking.
But when I finally lifted my gaze, he was already standing by the counter.
He was tall, pale as moonlight, his hair slicked back and his crimson eyes gleaming with something feral. His lips twisted when he saw the bloody handprints on my skin.
Then, his gaze slid to the dusted remains of the female vampire lying near the door.
"Well," he drawled, voice deep and disturbingly calm. "I see you’ve met my bride."
My stomach turned, but I said nothing. I had killed his bride, and there was only one thing he would want. Vengeance.
He stepped closer, each movement graceful, predatory. "You are... different," he sniffed the air. "You are not just a wolf. You carry the scent of something rarer. The Fae."
He smiled, slow and hungry. "How interesting. I could make you my Queen."
I scoffed before I even realized it. "Your wife," I said, tilting my head toward the pile of ash, "I didn’t even know when I killed her. So, you had better be on your way if you don’t want to end up with the same fate."
My voice didn’t even shake, and for a split second, I surprised myself.
Where was this confidence coming from?
My heart was racing, but the fear wasn’t choking me this time. It burned controllably and sharply. And for a moment, I wondered if it was Valmora.
The vampire stopped walking. His eyes flickered first with amusement, then with something darker.
"You killed my mate," he said softly, almost tenderly. "Do you know what that means?"
I didn’t answer him.
His head tilted slightly, and in the next instant, he was gone. He vanished completely.
My breath caught, and I let my instinct take over. I ducked low just as a gust of wind sliced past me. His hand missed my neck by inches.
I rolled aside, grabbing the edge of the overturned table and using it as cover.
But then, he reappeared on the other side of the room, with eyes glowing like coals. "You wolves always think you are strong because you bite," he hissed. "Let’s see if you can bleed."
I didn’t think before I lunged.
This fight wasn’t like the last one. The female vampire had been reckless and a little messy, but this one was a storm.
Every movement was fluid, and every strike precise. He fought like someone who had lived through centuries of slaughter.
He kicked the table aside like it was paper. I blocked his punch, but the impact still sent me skidding backwards, the soles of my sandals scraping against the tiles.
My muscles screamed, but I kept my footing.
He grinned, flashing sharp fangs. "Good reflexes, little Queen. But you are way too slow."
I growled, an instinctive, guttural sound. And when he came at me again, I ducked under his swing and slammed my elbow into his ribs, but he didn’t flinch.
His hand shot out, grabbed me by the throat, and lifted me clean off the ground. I clawed at his wrist.
I couldn’t breathe. I was choking.
"Valmora!" I screamed in my head, waiting for her help.
"He is stronger, but not smarter," she said sharply, "Use your head, not just your hands!"
The vampire was laughing, actually laughing, when I reached down, grabbed the nearest metal straw from the floor, and rammed it into his neck.
Immediately, the laughter stopped.
He staggered back and released me. Black blood spilt from the wound, sizzling against the tiles.
I landed hard on my knees, gasping for air. "Not so funny now, huh?" I rasped.
His hand went to his throat, and the fury that twisted his face was monstrous. "I will make you regret that."
He blurred again, but this time, I was ready. I pivoted on instinct, ducking beneath his arm, and slammed my knee into his gut.
When he bent forward, I seized my chance and drove my hand straight into his chest the way I did before with the female vampire.
His eyes widened in shock. And I could feel his heart beating under my palm.
"Do it," Valmora said.
With a yell that tore from somewhere deep inside me, I yanked it free.
The vampire froze, his expression nearly one of confusion. Then he collapsed to the floor, the heart still pulsing once in my hand before it turned to ash.
For a long moment, I just stood there panting, shaking, and staring at what I had done.
Two vampires. Two blood sucking monsters.
And then, before I could even process the weight of it, every bone in my body unclenched as I felt his presence, the familiar pulse, powerful and warm.
Draven.
The sound of boots echoed outside, quick, sure, and heavy. A heartbeat later, the glass door opened, and the air shifted.
The scent of iron and pine filled the ruined store, strong and grounding.
Draven stepped in first, with Dennis right behind him. Both of them froze at the sight before them.
The place was chaos. Tables overturned, blood smeared across the floor, shattered glass glittering under the dull fluorescent lights.
And I stood in the middle of it all, still breathing hard and clutching the edge of the counter to keep myself upright.
For a long second, no one spoke.
Then Dennis gave a low whistle. "Well, damn." His eyes swept the destruction, then flicked to me. "Remind me never to get on your bad side, Luna."
I tried to answer with something light, something normal—but my voice caught in my throat. My hands were trembling, slick with blood that wasn’t mine.
Draven was already moving. He crossed the distance between us in two strides and stopped right in front of me.
His golden eyes locked on mine. He didn’t say anything; he just looked at me, searching and scanning every inch of me for wounds.
Then, when his gaze dropped to my hands, his jaw tightened.
I whispered, "They attacked first."
He reached up, cupped the back of my neck, and pressed his forehead against mine. The simple touch nearly undid me.
"I know," he murmured. "I know, my Queen."
The warmth of his voice melted through the cold that had settled in my bones. I hadn’t realized I was shaking until his other hand covered mine.
Dennis moved around, crouching beside one of the ash piles. "Two of them," he muttered. "A female and a male. She killed both?"
Draven didn’t answer. Instead, he looked at the mess again, then back at me, his eyes narrowing with something that looked like disbelief and pride all tangled together.
"You did this?"
I nodded once. "Valmora warned me they were coming."
Dennis straightened, brushing his palms on his trousers. "I guess your wolf is scary when she’s right."
I nearly smiled, but the moment my eyes flicked back to the body nearest me—what was left of it, my stomach clenched.
Draven must have sensed it, because the next moment, he stepped behind me and wrapped his arm around my waist, steadying me.
"Don’t look," he whispered, his breath brushing against my ear. "It’s over."
"It didn’t feel like it," I said quietly. "It felt like it was never going to end."
He exhaled, long and low, as if weighing what to say next. "You did what you had to do. You survived. And you did it better than I expected."
That earned him a small glare from me. "You mean you didn’t believe I could?"
"I believed you could try," he said softly, tilting his head so our eyes met again. "Now I believe you can win."
Dennis chuckled. "Careful, brother. If she keeps this up, she will start thinking she is tougher than you."
Draven’s lips curved. "And I don’t mind. I like a confident mate."
The warmth in his voice nearly made me forget the smell of blood around us.
But then I caught the look in his eyes—sharp, calculating beneath the tenderness. I knew that look. It was the look of a strategist, already planning, already counting what this meant.
He wasn’t just proud of what I had done. He was thinking ahead.
And I had a feeling that whatever he was planning next would have something to do with this fight.