Page 21 of Burn for Her

Lucian got all in Dorian’s face. “He doesn’t want money, you asshole. He wants you.”

Dorian ignored how his vision dimmed for a few seconds. He also refused to hear how ludicrous Lucian sounded just now. “My loyalties are to Malachi and the House of Death. Nothing will ever change that. Marius can suck my cock.”

“He’s going to force your hand.”

“There’s nothing he can do to persuade me to tilt my allegiance towards his House.” Dorian gripped Lucian’s shoulders and shook him. “Relax. I’m not leaving.”

For the life of him, Dorian couldn’t understand why Lucian was being so distraught about this. Minor politics never unraveled him before, but lately, Lucian was just as unhinged as Dorian.

Then again, losing Luke was a blow Lucian might never recover from. They were brothers, and Dorian couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to see a family member burn to ashes right before his eyes.

Oh wait… yes, he could. Only Dorian relished that moment and Lucian’s personal experience left him heartbroken and lost. There’d been no time to mourn Luke’s death.

Dorian tilted Lucian’s chin, forcing the vampire to look at him. “I’m not going anywhere.” He made sure to keep his gaze locked on Lucian. “Not to the House of Bone, and not to find my mate.”

Lucian stumbled back as if Dorian sucker punched him. “What?”

“I’m not going to find her. So, whatever you need me to do on behalf of the House of Death, let’s see it done in the time I have left.”

“The fuck, Dorian?”

He slashed his hand through the air. “I can’t.” Dorian swallowed around the lump growing in his throat. “I can’t chain a perfect creature like her to a savage monster like me. I refuse to put anyone in that kind of Hell.”

Lucian’s face reddened with fury. “This is about your father, isn’t it?” When Dorian didn’t respond Lucian shouted, “You’re not him! Damnit, Dorian, how many times must we go through this?”

“Soon, you’ll never have to say that lie to me ever again.”

Lucian cold-cocked him in the jaw hard enough to knock Dorian off his feet. “You are a fucking idiot!” Lucian attacked, slamming Dorian to the ground. They threw punches, bit, kicked, and gouged each other any way they could. The only issue was, they were both damned good fighters. The brawl could have gone on for days if they wished it.

But Dorian felt too much like a ticking time bomb and he didn’t want to waste the last of his precious time on earth beating the piss out of his best friend. “Enough!” he roared.

Lucian’s eyes were pitch black, and he hissed before reeling in his temper. Sucking in air, his chest heaved as he stared at Dorian with saliva dripping from his fangs.

“You need to feed,” Dorian snarled. “And you need to fuck.”

“Says the pot to the kettle.”

“Only one of us has hope of staying sane, Lucian. And it’s not me.” Dorian gracefully stood and tried to smooth away the wrinkles in his clothing. Looking down and seeing all the blood on his freshly pressed shirt, he scowled and tore the threads from his body and tossed it onto the floor. Turning to grab a fresh shirt from his closet, he ignored the feeling of Lucian’s gaze boring into his back.

He knew what it looked like—a mess just like the rest of him.

Storming into his bathroom, he washed the blood from his hands. As warm water ran over his busted knuckles, Dorian glowered at the shards of mirror scattered across the counter and piled in the sink. He would clean this shit up later, now wasn’t the time.

Scowling, Dorian focused on the sting of his cuts. Damn, Lucian had a hard head, and his teeth were razor sharp. Dorian half-smiled at the bite mark on his arm from his friend.

Movement caught his attention, and at first, his mind couldn’t get with the program at all. He stared at a shard of mirror laying face up on the counter. The woman’s reflection was distorted…

Dorian blinked. Then he blinked two more times, hoping his vision would clear up. Then he realized it wasn’t his vision that was the problem. It was the reflection.

Snatching the shard, he held his breath and stared at his mate. Holy Hell, she was a knockout, and that smile? Never saw a brighter one in all his life. Her face was a mess of cuts and bruises, but her eyes crinkled with delight. It just about knocked Dorian over. His black, tarnished soul filled with fire and relief.

She’s alive.

This was his chance. The compulsion to find her overrode all his other hardwired instincts and overrode his declarations of not looking for her. Fuck that. He needed to find her. That need drove him deeper into a special kind of madness called desperation.

“Give me something,” he pleaded. “Anything.”

Her reflection became more vivid with each beat of his panicked heart. Before long, he saw every crisp detail of her lovely face. The bruising. The arch of her perfectly shaped eyebrows. The deep black fans of lashes. The flecks of amber in her brown eyes. Then he saw—

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