Page 94 of Filthy Rich Vampires: For Eternity

I reached out and touched its hilt, feeling its balance and savoring the weight of its steel. It stirred the rage in my blood. They thought I was weak because of my mother and Willem, but I had walked through hell and lived. I would not go back there easily. Not while my children walked this earth. Not even if it meant choosing my life over someone I loved.

I raised the sword, pointing it at Jacqueline.

“No mercy,” I said. I’d slipped earlier, when my mother had chosen Jacqueline as her champion. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Lifting my eyes, I found Thea watching me as she whispered frantically with Aurelia. She was probably trying to find a way to save her bestie from me. I offered her one cruel smile, and she blanched.

Selah swept into the center of the room and nodded to us. Slowly, I made my way to join her, Jacqueline doing the same. With each step I took, the blade felt heavier in my hand, as if my body was at war with my mind, with my heart. I knew what I had to do. There was no choice. I had to kill Jacqueline. It was my only chance to finally be free of the past. It was the only way I would have a future with my own family.

My eyes caught Jacqueline’s as we faced each other. Neither of us looked away this time. My heart protested, speeding up with each beat, but I refused to turn away. I refused to be the one to surrender.

“You may not expect mercy,” Selah reminded us. “The victor has the right to claim the loser’s head, even in the unlikely event one of you surrenders.”

Blood thundered in my veins, and my hand clenched around the cold hilt of my weapon. I wanted my mother’s head, not Jacqueline’s. I would have taken Mother’s, too—after I forced her to tell me where my children were.

“Any final words?” Selah asked.

I shook my head, but Jacqueline smirked.

“Good luck,” she said, the words dripping with sweet venom.

Good luck? Good fucking luck? The room went black, and I reacted on instinct. My blade sliced through the air with a metallic whoosh. Jacqueline leaped backward, raising her own weapon to block my next strike.

And so the fight began.

Every reason I had to stop this fell away as I realized the truth. Neither of us would win this fight.

But one of us had to, and for the sake of my children, it had to be me.

They’d been in my mother’s care this whole time.

When I’d joined the Modicum I was weak, but they had trained me—honed me into something sharp and lethal. I focused on that instead of my opponent. This was all a dance. She slashed. I parried. I lunged forward, and she faded with ease.

Pivot.

Retreat.

Thrust.

Jab.

Children—my children—I fought for them. Each movement, I reminded myself of that, reminded myself of what I had lost and what I stood to gain, even if it meant giving up the person I wanted most. And somehow it was easier that it was her fighting me.

Maybe because it had always been Jacqueline.

I’d been fighting my feelings for her for years. At first, hiding our relationship. Then forbidden by Willem to see her, I tried to stop loving here. I’d waged this battle so long that now everything fell away. There was only her. Only me. Only the music we made—the whisper of our blades slicing air, the sharp ringing as our steel met—and this beautiful, deadly dance.

Our bodies spun, and my head turned toward hers just long enough to spot something unexpected in her eyes.

Dread.

Not determination. Not the cruelty she’d spewed before. My foot caught on an uneven stone, and I stumbled. My sword twisted up and away from me as it slipped through my fingers. It spun away from me and landed with a deafening, hollow clang on the floor. I scrambled for it and found her blade at my throat.

The tip of it pressed into my skin, and I forgot how to breathe.

I had died once, but this time would be different. This time I would die looking into the eyes of my best friend. I wasn’t certain if that made it better or worse.

The world zoomed back into focus and balanced on the tip of her blade. Murmurs grew louder around me and turned to shouts.

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