A Binding was more than just a physical connection. It wove the tapestry of the partners’ lives together until they were so interconnected that separation was impossible.
A frown tugged at Ryker’s lips as he navigated through the phone.
“I assure you, it’s possible. Look,” he said gruffly, his voice far harsher than it had ever been in the Choosing.
Anger radiated off him like steam. Once again, he slid the phone over to her, careful not to touch her hand.
The moment she saw the screen, it was like someone threw her headfirst into a lake of pure ice.
She shivered, goosebumps erupted on her flesh, and her stomach turned. She wanted to tear her eyes away and look elsewhere, but she couldn’t make her body function.
The blood she’d consumed soured in her stomach, her heart pounded, and her shadows screamed. Their cry was haunting, loud, and unending as they throbbed in her veins.
She’d seen death many times before, but this…
Oh, gods. This wasn’t just awful. This was gruesome.
Her hand trembled as she traced the screen.
The handsome man from the previous photo was nowhere to be seen. In his place was an ashy corpse. Emery Sylvain, or what was left of him, was on his back on a translucent sheet of ice.
A bloody wooden stake protruded from his chest. Black marks spiderwebbed across his gray, sunken skin. His flesh stuck to his skeleton like a dried piece of fruit. His black eyes were wide, and his face was contorted in a never-ending scream. His right arm was outstretched towards the heavens and frozen in death, his Binding Mark stark against his gray flesh.
This was the kind of death there was no coming back from, even for vampires.
Acidic bile rose in Brynleigh’s throat, and she gagged.
Oh, gods.
Throwing her hand over her mouth, she dropped the phone and stumbled to her feet.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled through her hand. “I… I can’t.”
Staggering to the bathroom, she fell to her knees in front of the toilet. The porcelain was cold between her hands as she retched. All the blood she’d consumed earlier came up, but she didn’t stop. She kept going until there was nothing left within her.
Every time she closed her eyes, that image flashed through her mind. Her stomach cramped, and her heart ached as she imagined Emery’s pain as he died.
There was no doubt in her mind this was real. There was no faking that kind of image.
Eventually, when her stomach was empty and she had nothing left, she stood. Rinsing her mouth out with water, she washed her trembling hands.
A shadow stood in the open doorway, watching her.
“Emery Sylvain was staked,” Ryker said calmly, as though they were discussing the weather and not a man’s final death.
She stared down at the sink. Although she thought she knew the answer to her next question, she needed confirmation.
“A Representative killed him, didn’t they?”
Long, horrible seconds passed before a grunt of acknowledgment came from Ryker.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Brynleigh’s head spun with this new information. No wonder Jelisette was filled with so much hatred. No wonder she was out for Representative blood.
It was all starting to make some sick, twisted sense.
Clutching the counter because she wasn’t certain she’d be able to remain upright on her own, she slowly turned around.