Page 16 of Burn for Her

“I can’t…” Aw shit, now he couldn’t breathe. His heart raced a mile a minute. “I’m unraveling already.”

“Then stop wasting time.”

Fury surged in his veins. “You think I don’t know what every second is going to fucking cost me?”

“Then think harder of what you saw, Dorian. Give me more to go on.”

“I HAVE NOTHING!” Dorian gripped his head and started rocking. The fear of finding her was just as suffocating as the terror of something else. “What if I go Rogue during this?”

“You’re too good for that level of cruelty, Dorian. You won’t go that far.”

You have no idea the depths I will go to in order to find that woman… Too far isn’t far enough.

Urges, foreign and frightening, overrode Dorian’s better behavior and he slammed his fist down on the table. “You need to get back to the King.”

He didn’t want Lucian to see him this way. Didn’t want him to suffer watching another person in his life ash out.

“I’m with you until it’s over.”

“It’s already over!” Dorian roared. “It’s done! I’m done!”

Lucian screamed right back in his face. “I’ll be damned if you’re gonna suffer the same fate Luke did! I will help you find your mate or, so help me God, I’ll die trying.”

The air whooshed out of Dorian, and he sagged where he stood. Last week, Luke burned to ashes because he hadn’t found his mate in time. Lucian was there to see it happen.

He didn’t want his friend to go through that pain again. Dorian would rather die alone than let Lucian suffer something so horrific twice.

“I can’t lose you, too,” Lucian whispered. Then he shoved Dorian in the chest and caused him to stumble backwards. “So, fuck off with that ‘I gotta do everything by myself because that’s all I ever do’ bullshit and let me help you do this.”

Damn his heart for having the capability of feeling hope and gratitude. And damn his voice for cracking when he asked, “What if we can’t find her?”

What if, what if, what if…

“What if we do?”

The weight of that question was so heavy, Dorian’s walls began to crumble.

Chapter 5

Five days passed and still nothing. Not a hint, glimpse, or indication that Dorian’s mate was even still alive. In those five days, Dorian convinced himself the curse would be his downfall and ultimate ruin. Food was losing its taste. Sleep never came. His temper burned holes in his conscience, making him even more volatile than usual. Case in point: He’d been called to do another execution this morning and didn’t spare a glance nor word when he stormed into the Kill Box, snagged the prisoner, and decapitated him with his bare hands in one swift wrench.

Oh, and Dorian hadn’t stopped there.

He also ripped off the bastard’s limbs, punched a hole through his torso, and ripped out his heart. Then Dorian ate it while everyone watched.

Normally the blood of a Savag-Ri tasted like the foulest toxin one could swallow, which was why most vampires didn’t bother to bite them, but Dorian wasn’t most vampires. Shit got real though when he ate the heart and couldn’t taste the signature sour flavor.

His tastebuds were on strike.

For five days, he kept his business-as-usual routine, because if he didn’t stay busy, he’d go crazy. And he feared if anyone else knew about him seeing his mate in the mirror, they might use it against him somehow. If a strong enough enemy got wind of Dorian’s current situation, they might attempt to detain or restrain him long enough for the clock to run out and poof, Dorian was ashes. Then the House of Death would be one step closer to ruination.

He made a promise to Malachi long ago and had every intention of keeping it for as long as possible. The House of Death would remain under Malachi’s rule so long as Dorian drew breath. Now here he was, day five without hope or prayer of finding his mate, and fate’s grip was choking him as much as the weight of his responsibility to the king was crushing him.

He wasn’t going to survive this. It was impossible.

After annihilating that Savag-Ri prisoner, he dismissed everyone from the chamber and cleaned the mess himself. On hands and knees, he scrubbed every square inch of the stone floor and wiped down all the walls. Decades of grime and filth turned to mud beneath his scrub brush. The hose flushed it all down a drain in the center of the room. By the time he left, it looked brand-new and never used.

Oh, if only it were so easy to erase what monsters did…

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