Page 7 of Burn for Her

“You can’t starve yourself, Em. You know what that’ll do. It’s already happening.” He gripped her chin and tilted her head towards the light. “Your eyes are already bloodshot.”

“From crying.” She smacked his hand away. “Not starvation.”

“You know better than to lie to me.”

She wouldn’t make eye contact with him now. A Lycan’s way of admission and submission.

Something horrible stirred in Dorian’s veins. A hunger that nearly drove him to do the unthinkable. Biting down on his bottom lip, he pierced his flesh and licked the blood dripping down the corners of his mouth.

Emily watched him do it, and she paled with disgust.

Dorian laughed through his hurt pride. “You say we’re meant to be, yet you can’t stand to look at my fangs. Or the blood they draw so effortlessly.”

Emily leaned back until her head and spine smacked the floor. Rubbing her face, she sighed. “I feel crazy, Dorian.”

And that’s why you say I’m the only one who can see you, he thought bitterly.

They were two peas in a pod. Always had been. No romance, lust, or emotion bound them together. Yet, in her worst moments, Emily always sought Dorian out and damned if he didn’t come crawling to her aid every single time.

“Why now?” He laid on his back, next to her on the floor. “What’s happened in the pack I haven’t heard about yet?”

“There’s going to be another ceremony soon. Dad’s making this one really big and has invited everyone.” She looked over at him, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. “He asked if I’d participate.”

Dorian’s heart wedged into his throat. “And… will you?”

“Would you?” She glowered.

“You know the answer.” He scrubbed his face and stared up at the ceiling because he couldn’t stand the look of agony on her face.

“Better to live a half-life alone than chase after destiny and be killed by fate,” Emily said, throwing the words he’d said to her, more than a hundred times growing up, back in his face.

“That’s right.” Dorian avoided mirrors for the same reason Emily wanted to avoid the Lycan ceremony. Once they caught a glimpse of their true soulmate, their lives would be over.

But damned if something thorny didn’t pierce his heart hearing her say those words now. He wanted Emily happy. He wanted the best of everything for her, and that included a mate. Sure, she could fuck anyone and have a relationship with whomever she wished—just not him—but if a Lycan found their true soul mate, it was a complete gamechanger in the best of ways.

Or worst.

Dorian hated that she was even contemplating it, almost as much as he loathed the idea of her actually going through with it.

When a Lycan drank liquid silver during a ceremony, they dreamt of their mate at some point before the full moon. It could be that night, or three weeks later. There was no way to guess when the vision would arise. But once it did, the Lycan had until the next full moon to hunt down and find their mate. If they didn’t, they were forced into their animal form and trapped in it. Lost. Alone. Tortured to howl for a mate who would never answer. They eventually went insane and would need to be killed before they returned and devoured their pack or anyone else who crossed their path, including humans.

It was even worse for vampires. Contrary to the age-old myth about vampires not being able to see their reflections, they most definitely could. It was their goddamn kryptonite. They saw their mate in reflections. Once they caught the first glimpse of their soulmate—their alakhai—the clock started ticking. If they didn’t find, bond, and turn their mate in time, the vampire weakened, went mad, and ultimately burned to ash.

Unlike Lycan, who knew their time ran out at the next full moon, vampires had no way of knowing how long they had physically. But mental deterioration began almost immediately upon the first glimpse of seeing their soul mate. They became more violent, possessive, and uncontrolled until they drank from their fated mate’s vein and ultimately turned them into vampires too.

In both instances, a vampire and Lycan became ticking time bombs as they searched for the one cure to ease their suffering and rarely did they find it. So yeah, you bet your ass it was better to live a half-life alone than chase after destiny and be killed by fate. Dorian avoided all reflections because of this. So long as he didn’t see his fated mate in a reflection, his blood curse would remain as is—putting him in a constant state of longing. But if he saw his alakhai, it was game over. The curse would kick into the next phase and slowly kill him unless he found his mate and turned her in time.

The curse sucked for both Lycan and vampire.

As much as Dorian wanted to protect Emily from ever risking her life, he had to make sure her decision to drink or not drink the liquid silver was entirely hers and wasn’t tainted by his insecurities. “I’ll stand by you,” he said. “If you want to drink it, I’ll go to the ceremony and be there for you. I’ll one-hundred percent support you.” It had been a long time since he stepped foot on pack land, but she was worth it.

“You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.” He looked over at her again, his emotions ebbing away so he could deal with this better. “And if you want to reject the ceremony, we can go out for the night and get sloshed. How’s that sound?”

“Like heaven,” she said. “Both options do, actually.”

Oh fuck, her chin was quivering and her eyes started leaking again. Damnit, he was shit at consoling people. Emily rolled onto her side and Dorian just froze on the floor. He knew he should hold her, but that would be like holding a grenade with the pin out. No thank you.

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