High Stakes

Part Twenty-seven

"Sang! I'm crushed. I've done nothing but provide for you and take care of you!" Roman's eyebrows raise in offense. Then he grins, because really—he knows he's already won. I can't risk calling his bluff. I would never let anything happen to my boys, or Owen. And Roman knows that.

"No harm comes to them, Roman." This time my voice isn't meek. It's steel. "I mean it."

"Yes," he purrs, running his thumb over my lips. "Show me those claws." Then he blinks. "You just called me Roman."

"I will never call you Master."

Roman leans down so his lips are a hair away from mine. "You will be the only one worthy."

He doesn't kiss me like I expected him to. Instead, he turns and tells Wil, "Call them off and start the car. We'll be out in a minute."

Wil leaves immediately, casting one quick, tortured look at me before running out of the door.

"Now," Roman leans back against the couch, placing his hands behind his head—the picture of confidence. "It's time."

I close my eyes and take ten seconds for myself—my last ten seconds as myself, how I was.

Ten. I was finally happy. I finally had a family. I would miss them.

Nine. Victor, fire eyes and musical fingers, always tapping.

Eight. Kota, calm, collected, intelligent. Green eyes focused and beautiful.

Seven. Gabriel, hilarious comments, always making me smile.

Six. Nathan, tough, with protective arms, and his sweet side.

Five. Luke, never-ending goofiness and fun, baking with me.

Four. Silas, non-judgement and easy friendship.

Three. North, silent strength, knowing he'd always be there.

Two. Sean, caregiver, nurturer.

One. Owen, lover, my other half...

I open my eyes. Ten seconds. I gave myself ten seconds to mourn the old Sang, because I know I'll never be the same.

I stare at Roman's neck, seeing the faintest pulsing at his throat. I lean forward and inhale at his collarbone, breathing in blood and fire. I feel my fangs descend, and know my eyes have gone red as well. I open my mouth to latch on, but he suddenly pulls my head back.

"Let me look at you," he mutters. Roman's breathing is coming faster now, and I realize he's—I don't know—anxious?

His eyes scan my face, and he licks his lips as he takes in my scarlet irises and tiny fangs. "Perfect," he whispers, then pulls my head to his throat.

I sink my canines into his neck and I'm not gentle. But of course, he likes that. Roman groans and grips my hair, pushing me harder into his flesh.

The first sip is like jumping into ice water—my body goes into shock. But the more I pull into my body, the warmer I get. After just a moment I feel as if I'm burning up—literally on fire. It's weird, but not painful.

Finally, he releases my head and I fall backward, off his lap and the couch completely. I sit there, looking up at him, gasping.

My body is reacting to his blood, and it's the strangest sensation. All of the electricity I feel with Owen comes up to the surface, and it clashes with Roman's flames. I'm tingly and hot, and I feel like I'm going to explode from the competing feelings.

Finally, my body stops trembling.

The fire won.

Roman had gotten to his feet, now he holds out a hand to me. "Come, lioness."

I swallow, licking the remaining blood from my lips, and I slip my hand in his.

____________________________

Wow!

150 pages—57,243 words later...

THE END!

(of book one—I may be able to be convinced to writing a sequel...)

I know this ending is going to piss a lot of you guys off, sorry about that! It's the ending I had in my head from the start, and I tried to change it, I tried to be a good person, but I couldn't! :( Don't hate me!

Thanks for reading and sticking by me!

xoxo, SB