Page 19 of Take Her to the Grave

"Having second thoughts, little ghost?"

Torrin materializes from the shadows beside me, devastating in a black suit that makes him look sexier than the devil himself. He's been watching me all evening as I wander our territory, giving me space to contemplate what's coming next.

"Not second thoughts," I say, reaching for his hand. "Just... reflecting. On everything that's changing. Everything that's about to change."

His fingers lace with mine, cold and strong. "And what do you see when you look at those changes?"

"I see truth," I answer, watching a dark mist dance around our joined hands. "It’s difficult to wrap my head around everything, yet somehow far less stressful than I could have ever imagined. My body remembering what it was meant to become. My soul recognizing its true nature."

Torrin pulls me closer, his free hand coming up to cradle my face, and I lean into his touch, sighing at the comfort. "You’re more perfect than words will ever be able to express."

I meet his eyes, allowing myself to get lost in them momentarily. There are silver flecks that weren’t there before, reflecting off the moonlight like shiny metal. His sharp facial features are so pleasing to look at, I could never look away and die happy. “I could easily say the same thing about you.”

His expression is adoring as he asks, "Are you ready to take the final step?"

"Yes." The word comes without hesitation. "But first, there's something I need to do."

Immediate understanding crosses his features. He knows me better than I know myself. "Ah. One last visit?"

I nod, and he releases me with a gentle push toward my parents' graves. This is something I need to do alone – one final goodbye to the life I'm choosing to leave behind, and he knows it without me having to ask.

The Monroe family plot feels different now, its familiar grief transformed by my new perspective. The twin headstones rise before me, their carved roses catching moonlight. I trace the letters of my parents' names, remembering them not with pain but with a strange sense of peace.

"I understand now," I whisper to their spirits. "Why I was drawn to write about darkness. Why I never quite fit in the light. I'm not running from your memory – I'm embracing what I was always meant to be."

The night wind stirs, carrying the scent of roses and decay. In my enhanced state, I can almost imagine that I feel their presence, theiracceptanceof my choice.

"I'll always love you," I continue softly. “While I’m no longer the daughter you once new, I’ll always be your little girl.”

Movement catches my eye – a pale rose petal drifting down to land on the grave. Then another, and another, until a shower of white petals swirls around me like snow. My eyes widen as I realize what I'm seeing: every rose on every grave in sight is releasing its petals, creating a storm in the moonlight.

Torrin appears beside me, watching the supernatural display with intense interest. "The dead are giving their approval," he says softly. "They recognize you as a bridge between worlds – life and death, light and shadow."

Tears slip down my cheeks, but they're tears of joy rather than sorrow. This is more than just acceptance – it's confirmation.Validationof everythingI'm becoming.

"Thank you," I whisper to my parents, to the cold air around us, and to whatever power is blessing this transformation. The rose petals settle around the graves like gentle snow, a final gift from the realm I'm leaving for who knows how long.

When I turn back to Torrin, my vision is clearer than it's ever been. "I'm ready."

He takes my hand and leads me deeper into the cemetery, past the familiar paths to places I've never seen before, just like our first night together. The fog rolls in thick and heavy, but my heightened sight cuts through it easily. We're heading toward something old and ancient, something that pulses with dark power.

"What is this place?" I ask as a massive structure looms before us.

"The heart of Ravencrest," Torrin answers. "The original chapel, built on much older foundations. Places of power tend to attract death – or perhaps it's death that makes them powerful."

The building is Gothic architecture at its finest, all soaring spires and grotesque gargoyles. But underneath the Christian imagery, I sense something older. Something that remembers when humans worshiped numerous gods in darker ways.

Inside, hundreds of candles cast flickering light over stone walls covered in various symbols. Some I recognize from my research into occult matters, others are completely foreign. All of them seem to writhe with purpose in the stone.

"This is where I was turned," Torrin says, leading me to the center of the space. "Though my transformation was... less voluntary than yours will be." His expression dims with the memory. "I've waited centuries to find someone worthy of sharing true power, rather than just taking it."

"Tell me what to do," I say barely above a whisper.

He pulls me close, one hand tangling in my hair while the other traces the fading marks on my throat. "First, you need to understand exactly what you're choosing. This isn't just about becoming a vampire – you're already more than human, thanks to your Shadow-Kissed nature. This is about forming a true blood bond. Joining our powers, our essences, our verysouls."

"Is it going to hurt?"

"Yes." His voice is gentle but honest. "The death of your mortal self cannot be painless. But the pleasure will far outweigh the pain once you let go, I promise you."

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