Page 17 of Take Her to the Grave

The room grows colder as my power builds, shadows writhing with deadly intent. Part of me is terrified at what’s happening and what I'm becoming, at how natural this feels. But a deeper part exults in it, recognizing this as my true nature finally unleashed.

"She's bluffing," the woman says, but uncertainty colors her tone. "She can't possibly—"

The windows explode inward as another presence enters – vast and ancient and gloriously familiar. Torrin materializes from the maelstrom of shadow and glass, his power rolling through the room like an icy arctic wind.

"My love," he says casually, as if we're meeting for dinner rather than a supernatural confrontation. "I see you're entertaining guests."

Relief and joy surge through me at his arrival, but I maintain my defensive stance, not wanting to give these vampires an ounce of power over me.

"Just some uninvited visitors," I reply, matching his casual tone. "They seem to be under the impression that I'm your weakness."

His laugh is low and terribly frightening. "Did they now?" His eyes blaze with supernatural light as he turns his attention to our opponents, studying them before asking, "And what have you learned about that assumption?"

In response, the female vampire snarls and launches herself at me, moving faster than human eyes could track. But I'm not quite human anymore. My shadows react for me, solidifying into barriers that slam her back into the wall.

Torrin doesn't move to help me – he doesn't need to. He just watches with a proud satisfaction as I take out the threat myself.

The other two vampires attack together, trying to overwhelm us, but they're young, ruled by bloodlust andarrogance. Torrin dispatches one with minimal effort, while I use my shadows to pin the other. The female tries to flee, but darkness coils around her like living chains.

"Please," she begs as we step toward them, closing the gap between. "We didn't know she was this strong. We thought—"

"You thought you could use mychosenagainst me," Torrin interrupts, his voice deadly soft. "Thought you could hurt what is mine, but little did you know, I would choose my equal. She’s as capable as destroying every fiber of your being as I am." His lips curve upward, exposing his massive fangs before turning to me. "Elena, my little ghost – what would you like to do with them?"

The power of life and death hums through me. Part of me is horrified at how easily I've adapted to violence, at how natural it feels to hold these creatures at my mercy without knowing as much as their names. But a deeper part – the part that's always understood predators and their killer instincts – knows this is necessary.

"They need to serve as a message," I say, surprised at how cold my voice sounds. "Let others know what happens to those who threaten what's ours."

Torrin's eyes gleam with approval. "Ours," he repeats, savoring the word. "Yes, I rather like that. Show me, little ghost. Show me what darkness has taught you."

Drawing on instincts I didn't know I possessed, I reach deeper into my power. The shadows respond quickly, wrapping around our captives like deadly shrouds. I don't kill them – not directly. Instead, I draw on every dark story I've ever written, every nightmare I've ever crafted, and I pour it into them.

They scream as shadow fills them, as darkness rewrites them from within. When I finally release them, they're changed – marked by shadow in ways that will never fade, inky tattoos that now scar their skin.

"Go," I command, and my voice echoes with power. "Tell the others what you saw here. Tell them the Shadow-Kissed has awakened. Tell them what happens to those who dare to threaten Torrin or myself."

They don’t hesitate to flee into the night, leaving us alone in my once again quiet office. For a long moment, neither of us speaks. I'm trembling with an overload of power brought to the surface, with the realization of what I've just done. Imarkedthem for life. They’ll spend every day for the rest of their lives looking at the scars I’ve forced onto them and the unease I’ve instilled within them.

Torrin pulls me into his arms, his pride and desire palpable. "My beautiful monster," he murmurs against my hair. "Do you understand now? Why I chose you? Why I knew you were meant for this?"

"I understand everything," I whisper, and it's true. All the pieces of my life suddenly make sense – my attraction to darkness, my ability to write about monsters, my comfort when the sun sets each evening. "I was always meant for this. Foryou."

"Yes." His hand slides into my hair, gripping possessively. "You were never just weak, Elena. You were always meant to be my queen. My equal in all things."

"Those vampires," I say, thinking of their twisted power. "They were different from you. Wrong somehow. I felt it before I even saw them."

"Young ones, turned too quickly and left untaught. They give in to bloodlust and madness because they have no anchor to their humanity." His smile is soft as he watches me. "You and I will be different. We'll rule through power and choice, not mindless violence."

"We?"

"Did you think I was going to let you go after that display?" He chuckles darkly. "You've proven yourself more perfectly than I could have hoped. The way you commanded your shadows, the way you marked them..." His eyes blaze with light. "You're ready."

My heart skips. "Ready for what?"

"For everything. For the final transformation. Your true becoming." His hand slides to my throat, fingers tracing the marks he left before. "No more games, no more holding back. Tonight, you’re mine completely."

Instead of fear, I feel only anticipation. I’ve spent my entire writing career preparing myself for this. I just didn’t know it.

"Yes," I whisper, offering my throat. Offeringeverything.

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