Page 48 of Chains of Blood and Darkness

I couldn’t imagine the smell, but it wouldn’t change my decision. Jacques died because of me, and he deserved to have me pay homage.

“I still want to go.”

Angelo released a soft breath. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, you know. It’s okay to grieve, to let yourself feel pain.”

I nodded, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “Yes, I know. But I think...if I go and see him laid to rest...it might help me find some closure. Some peace.”

Angelo’s gaze softened. “Then we’ll go, and we’ll face this together,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. “You’re not alone, Serenity. Not anymore.”

He sat back, his hand falling from my face even as the warmth of his touch lingered. With a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders, the mantle of leadership settling over him once more. He slid off the bed and stood. “Come,”he said, offering me his hand. “Let’s go honor our fallen brother.”

I looked down at my crumpled clothes. “Wait, let me just change quickly.”

“Of course. I’ll wait for you outside.”

I grabbed a black dress with cap sleeves out of the closet. In the bathroom, I pulled my hair into a soft bun and quickly put on the dress. I washed my tearstained face and applied some mascara and red lipstick that Gianna had given me. I thought it made me look more presentable for a vampire’s funeral.

I opened the door and Angelo flashed his gaze over me in appreciation.

“You look beautiful, Serenity. And you did all that in less than five minutes. I’m impressed.”

He smiled and stretched out his hand. As I placed my hand in his, feeling the strength and support that radiated from him, I knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, I wouldn’t be facing them alone. In this world of shadows and sorrow, I had found an unexpected light—a beacon of hope in the form of a vampire king.

Chapter Twenty-One

Angelo

As I walked with Serenity down the hallway, holding her hand, I ventured a sideways glance at her. Her beauty stole the breath from my lungs. She was a vision of tasteful elegance, in a simple black dress that hugged her curves. Her shimmering blond hair was pulled into a soft bun, displaying the graceful curve of her neck. The red of her lips stood out in striking contrast to her pale skin, a touch of color in a sea of mourning.

But it was the look in her eyes that truly captivated me. Despite the sadness that lingered there, a quiet strength shone through—a clear determination to face the challenges ahead with grace and resilience. In that moment, I knew Serenity was a force to be reckoned with, a beacon of hope in the darkness. My darkness.

“You look beautiful.” I leaned closer to her. I was almost four hundred years old, and this woman made me tongue-tied. No woman had ever done that to me, not even when I was still human.

She blushed under my gaze. It only made her look even more radiant.

“Take my arm,” I said.

As she placed her hand in the crook of my elbow, I felt a surge of protectiveness wash over me. I silently vowed to stand by her side, to shield her from any storms that might be looming on the horizon.

Together, we made our way through the mansion, the somber silence broken only by the soft rustle of her skirts. As we stepped out into the night, the air cool against our skin, I marveled at the strange twists of fate that had brought us, a vampire king and a Nephilim, together.

In this moment, as we walked toward the gathering in the courtyard to honor our fallen brother, I knew that no matter how shrouded in mystery the path ahead was, one thing was certain—Serenity had become a part of my world, and I would move mountains to keep her safe.

Moonlight lit up the solemn sight. A black drape covered the iron gates, keeping curious onlookers at bay. My men had built a wooden pyre, and Jacques’ body was already laid out on top of it. Torches surrounded the courtyard. Dimitri hadn’t hoisted up the wooden spikes yet and they rested against one wall. Freddie escaped this death, but he wasn’t the one who had murdered Jacques. The murderer was still on the loose. Once he was in my grasp, the stakes would be for him and his friends.

I would find him, and heaven help him when I did. But this was a time for sorrow, not revenge.

Serenity gazed at Jacques’ body without flinching. Pride swelled in my chest at her bravery. Dimitri and Gianna held hands. Enzo looped his arm through Elena’s; she was holding a handkerchief to her nose. Her eyes were bright red and tearstained. Petar and my other men stood at solemn attention.

On a table there were unlit torches, one for everyone at the ceremony.

All eyes were on me as their leader and their king. I reluctantly released Serenity’s hand and stood in front of my family.

I cleared my throat. “We are gathered here to honor our fallen brother, Jacques Girard. For centuries he stood by our side, a loyal friend and a fierce warrior. His bravery and dedication to this family knew no bounds, and his presence brought light to even the darkest of nights.”

I cast my gaze over the assembled crowd, their faces etched with grief and sorrow. In a single, synchronized movement, they all bowed their heads, even Serenity. The sight of her, an outsider, willingly participating in our ancient rituals, sparked something deep within me—a flicker of hope in the darkness.

“Jacques was more than just a soldier; he was a true member of our family. His laughter filled our halls, his wisdom guided our decisions, and although his heart may have ceased to beat, it was always full of love and compassion for each and every one of us.”

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