by Leeah Taylor
She saw the remorse rippling through him and all the unsaid things between them. A love that wouldn’t die but couldn’t survive.
“It wasn’t all bad, Juliette.”
She lifted her eyes to the ceiling with the threat of tears trying to spill out. “No, it wasn’t. When it was good, we lived on top of the world with no limits. But when it was bad, it was horrific. Our family stuck in the middle of it. It has to stop.”
“What are you saying?”
She let out a shaky breath. “Me and you. It ends here. We’ve had more lifetimes to figure it out than anyone deserves. We’ve had our chance, and we blew it. It’s done, Damien.”
He pushed his fingers through his hair. “That’s what you want?”
“Yes.”
Something foreign flickered in him as he took her in. Mulling it over in his head. Finally, he nodded.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, if that’s what you want, Jules, after everything, you deserve to be happy. And you aren’t happy.”
Tell me you want me. Tell me you love me. Just tell me you need me. Tell me you’re sorry.
“I’m not happy.”
“Then be happy, Luv. That’s all I ever wanted for you.”
I want you to make me happy.
“There is one thing, though. Lucien made me promise that you wouldn’t spend one more night out of the house.” She started to protest, but Damien held up a hand. “Let me finish. You know it’s not safe for you; Ramsey’s tried killing you once already, so I’m going to stay here at the bar until he’s has been dealt with. You can stay at the house.”
It wasn’t a fight she was going to win. No matter who was initiating the suggestion. Damien. Lucien. Oliver. She could continue being obstinate to their request, but it would just end in one of them finally dragging her there anyways.
“Thank you.”
She picked up her grimoire and started towards the stairs, heart pounding and stomach twisted in knots, and stopped on the first step.
“Did we ever really stand a chance?”
Damien sighed. “I honestly don’t know.”
It was a genuine answer. It just didn’t feel like the right one. Her chest tightened with each step like she was making the biggest mistake of her life. If she walked out and closed that door, then that was it.
One hundred and fifty years, done.
She forced herself to push the door open. It felt heavier, resisting, like it knew better than her that she couldn’t go back if she went any further. She felt his stare burning a hole in her backside as he watched and waited to see if she could do it.
To end it. Here and now.
I have to do this.
Trembling but determined to do what was best for her and their whole family, Juliette stepped out into Juleps and let the door slip from her fingers. She sagged against the door, letting it hold her up. Breathing felt impossible. Heart beating painfully against her ribs. Quietly choking back her tears.
She forced herself to push off the door and get out of there. Lucien caught sight of her as she hurried past the steps to the door. He beat her to it with a hand closing over hers at the handle.
“What happened?”
She refused to look up at him. “Go talk to your brother. He has something he needs to tell you.”
“Okay, but something happened. What is it?”
What was it about these brothers? Why couldn’t they just leave well enough alone? “It’s over. We’re done.” She mustered the strength to meet his confused gave. “I’ll see you at home, Lucien.”
Damien | 19
Ollie and Lucien didn’t say anything. Both staring off, processing what Damien told them. He still hadn’t processed it. Not fully. His mind was too preoccupied by Juliette’s declaration. Me and you. It ends here. And he’d let her go.
Why the hell didn’t I stop her?
He knew the answer. For the second time since she came into his life, he watched that light get snuffed out. And for a second time, it wrecked him. Both times were his fault. For the same reason. He would not be the reason that girl lost what made her beautiful.
The cycle had to stop. She deserved to be happy. Even if that meant without him.
“Damien?” Lucien caught his attention. “Where is your head?”
“I’m here,” he lied.
Ollie crossed his arms over his chest, scowling up at Damien from his chair. “I can’t believe you let Juliette kill her.”
Damien through his hands up. “I tried to stop her, okay.”
“Not hard enough.”
“Enough. You’re sure that’s what Rebecca said? Kill his brothers?” Lucien asked.
Clear as day. “Yep, you can ask Jules. She heard it.”
“Adrian Night?” Ollie still looked bewildered. Damien didn’t blame him. “Julian couldn’t stand the alpha. Why would he choose him as the donor?”
“We should go down to the Keep,” Lucien suggested. “Pull records.”
“Assuming good old Dad even had it recorded,” Damien scoffed. “Old vindictive bastard.”
Ollie jumped up. “I’ll go get them.”
“No, I’ll go. Power and water have been restored across the city, and Juleps needs a lot of attention before we can open tonight. That’s your job,” Damien insisted.
The last place he wanted to be was stuck here with Lucien.
“I never get to do the fun stuff,” Ollie grumbled.
Lucien chuckled. “You’re just adorable when you pout.”
He scowled at him from the door. “Screw off.”
It slammed behind him.
“I’d say he’s the most immature out of the three of us, but really he’s probably the most mature.” Lucien poured a drink. “So, where you staying? Here?”
“She told you?”
“She said I’ll see you at home.”
“And?”
“That it’s over,” he said, bringing the glass to his lips. “Is it?”
He just wanted her to be happy.
“That’s what she wants.” Damien pushed off the side of the desk. He wasn’t having that conversation. “I’m going to the Keep—"
“Is it what you want?” Lucien asked.
Damien stopped at the door. “Does it really matter?”
Lucien unbuttoned the top of his shirt and sat down behind the desk.
“I think you just answered my question,” he said, setting his glass down and pulling open the drawer. He took out the ledgers because numbers made sense, and after today, Damien didn’t blame him for needing something to make sense.
“Lucien, she wants to be happy, and I don’t make her happy.”
Lucien leaned forward, hands folded and rested his chin against them. “You still don’t see it. You are what she wants to make her happy. You’ve been given the rarest chance with this girl, and you are just this close to losing it for good.”
“I have lost her.”
“No, Damien, you haven’t, but you will if you don’t quit finding ways to shove her away. If you don’t find a way to prove to her that you are worth putting her heart on the line just one more time.” Lucien held up a finger. “I mean it; you are just this close to truly losing her. We all are. Because without you, we lose her too.”
Lucien picked up a pen and opened the ledger.
“And just say the fucking words already. After a century, I think she deserves to hear you say it.” He looked up. “I think you deserve to hear yourself say it too.”
How did he make her listen now if finally, he said it? The damage was catastrophic. Their history so large it was almost endless. Filled from start to bloody finish with hatred, hurt, and betrayal. He had no idea where to even begin with her or if he even had a chance to try.
Because I love you just didn’t feel like enough to erase all the bad between them to find anything good.
Juliette | 20
“Come on, Jules, open the door.” Riley banged on the bathroom d
oor like she had been doing for the last hour. “Please?”
Juliette didn’t want to feel bad, but she couldn’t help it. The euphoria and excitement she’d felt when she tortured Rebecca was both satisfying and sickening.
“Jules! Open the door or I’m calling Oliver.”
That’s all she needed. A stern lecture from the brother who hated violence and gore. He’d lectured her enough with the wolves.
Don’t throw your humanity away trying to kill the things that want to destroy you. Then they just win anyway.
She pulled in a breath, needing a calm to break through the tension between her shoulders and the burning sickness in her gut. All it did was provoke the panic growing inside of her. If the witches found out she killed one of their own... One of her own. They’d want her head on a spike.
“Go, Ollie’s waiting to take you to the house.”
Juliette’s head dropped. Fuck. “Go away, Lucien, I’m fine.”
“Jules, let’s just establish right now that I know how to open this door.”
She rolled her eyes. “Putting your foot through it doesn’t count.”
The knob jiggled, resisted against the lock, and the door swung open. He crossed his arms and leaned into the frame, looking to the door then back to her with a victorious smile.
“Are you implying that the only way I can get through a locked door is by destruction?”
She crossed her arms. “Riley texted you, didn’t she?
“Seems she thinks I’m the go to when it comes to you and your chaos. Might want to tell her this is Ollie’s job.”
“Nobody’s job,” she huffed.
Lucien chuckled and offered his hand to her. “Come on, Darling. Self-loathing and sulking does not look good on you.”
She looked away, refusing to give in.
Lucien crouched down beside her. “Look, you’re coming out of this room one of two ways. Either on your own or I’ll carry you out over my shoulder. I’m giving you the opportunity to keep your dignity.”
“I killed her.”
Lucien sighed. “I know, Darling.”
“It felt good.”
“I know.” He slipped out of his suit jacket and tossed it on the counter before sitting down next to her. “We’re vampires, Jules. It’s supposed to feel good.”
“Then why do I feel so horrible?”
“Because you have such a big heart.”
“I killed wolves without having this much guilt about it.”
“Look at me.” She turned to him. “You knew Rebecca for years. It’s more than natural to feel guilty about killing her.”
She nodded, trying to convince herself that he was right, but it did nothing for the burning pit in her stomach. “I told him we were done. It’s over.”
“I know that too.”
Tears burned hot in her eyes. “Why can’t I hate him? It would be so much easier if I could hate him.”
Lucien was quiet for a while, taking her hand in his at some point and holding it between them.
“I hated Damien for years after he sent you away. Spent so many going over every ‘what if’ scenario. What if I had just taken you upstairs to the office? What if I had dropped you off at home and went back to Juleps? What if I had Ollie take you home?” He shrugged. “The answer was always the same.”
“What?”
“I was selfish and angry. Angry at my brother for being an absolute fool. Breaking your heart over and over because his love for you scared him. And I was selfish because I wanted your love. Even if that meant taking it from you when he broke you that night, and for that I am so sorry, Jules.”
“Lucien—"
“The reason you can’t hate my brother is because we all made horrible choices that night. I should have never kissed you. Damien should have never provoked you. And you should have pushed me away. But we were all seeking something that night in all the wrong places.”
He went quiet again, his hand still intertwined with hers. His words hung heavy in the air. All of them true. Mistakes were made on all sides, and they’d all paid dearly for them.
“He loves you, Jules. You know it. I know it. The whole damn city knows it. And you love him, even when you hate him.”
“I want it to be enough, but I just don’t know anymore.”
He squeezed her hand. “I want to say my brother will come to his senses and tell you he loves you. I want to tell you my brother will find a way to make it right, and you’ll forgive him.” Juliette glanced over at him. “But I don’t know if he ever will. I think he wants to, but I don’t know if that’s enough for him to do it.”
“I’m afraid it’s not.”
“You have to decide if he’s worth putting your heart on the line again.”
Her heart ached in her chest. A chasm ripping through her with the love that threatened to drown her. Damien was a part of her. A bond between them she never understood but held tightly to. Ollie soothed her and made sense of her world, but Damien brought her to life.
“Did he tell you about Adrian?”
Lucien huffed. “Yeah, and to say I’m still really fucking blown away is an understatement.”
“Ramsey is your brother.”
Lucien sucked in a breath. “I know.”
Family meant something more than just family to the Frosts. It was deep-seated and innate. Rooted so deeply that even at their worst, they were loyal and devoted to each other.
“What are you doing to do?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, Jules.”
Lucien’s phone rang, and he pulled his hand free to answer it.
“Yeah?” He nodded. “Yep, I’ll get Ollie, and we’ll be down there.” He hung up. “That was Damien. He found something at the Keep he thinks we should see.”
“Lucien?”
“Yes, Darling?”
“Thank you.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple like he used to.
“I’d do anything for you. Always.”
“Do you love her?” she asked.
He nodded. “Very much.”
“Good. She always had it bad for you.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure I had it for her long before I knew I did.”
She smiled, nodding. It had always been there. This small air of attraction between them with Juliette as the big heaping obstacle.
“Hey,” he said, grabbing her chin and making her look at him, “I love you too. Always going to be family. Always going to be my Darling.”
“Just as long as you make sure to love Chelsea in all the ways I always loved Damien.”
Lucien nodded and pushed up from the floor, offering her his hand. “Chelsea is my everything, and I love her in a way that I’ve never known. Not even with you.”
It didn’t hurt like she expected; instead, she was content. Comforted that Lucien finally found what he thought he wanted in her, but now, the girl loved him back too, in all the ways he deserved.
“I’ll take you home first. I think Chelsea is at the house. Give you guys a chance to catch up.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “I’ve missed you all so much.”
He kissed the top of her head. “No idea how relieved and happy I am to finally have you home.”
Damien | 21
Damien walked through the door of Sterling Library, the woman behind the counter nodding to him when he held up an old antique key.
Sterling Keep was home to every record of the witch, wolf, and vampire communities going back five hundred years. Including births, deaths, and history. Damien cut through fiction, and the irony wasn’t lost on him. The dozen or so patrons spread throughout paid him no mind. Barely looking up from their pages.
If these people knew the secrets this building kept...
He glanced behind him before shoving the skeleton key into an old lock. Cold, musty, dank air attested to the age of the building. Lucien personally saw to the remodeling upstairs and out, but the libraries basement remained untouch
ed.
He fumbled with his phone, the flashing lighting his path and he followed the steps down. Feeling around the stone wall, he found the switch and flipped it on. The overhead light fixtures flickered on with a static buzz. In the center of the room were two tables. Tall bookcases stretched the walls from corner to corner, floor to ceiling. Every shelf was filled with thick, old ledgers.
Damien scanned the shelves, one by one, until he found 1720. He set it down on the table and opened it up, the pages dusty and frail. Standing over it, studying each handwritten line, he found the entry.
Name: Frost, Lucien Elliot
Donor: Night, Adrian Oliver (WW)
Date: January 17, 1720
Father: Frost, Julian Michael (V)
Mother: Frost, Dianna Lyn (WW)
He dragged a hand down his face before leaning over the pages. Shit. What possible reason would Julian have to name one of his sons after the donor? It made no sense to him, and he didn’t like the idea beginning to root in the back of his mind. He went back to the bookcases, pulled out another book, opened it, and found his name. It read the same.
Name: Frost, Damien Michael
Donor: Night, Adrian Oliver (WW)
Date: April 9, 1727
Father: Frost, Julian Michael (V)
Mother: Frost, Dianna Lyn (WW)
He glanced up at the bookcases.
Shit.
He pulled a ledger from 1730 off the shelf and set it down on the table, paging through until he found the entry.
Name: Night Frost, Oliver Julian
Date: February 3, 1730
Father: Night, Adrian Oliver (WW)
Mother: Frost, Dianna Lyn (WW)
Spouse: Frost, Julian Michael (V)
“Oh, God.”
Ollie’s going to be ridiculous about this.
He swiped his phone from the table and called Lucien. Ollie’s name was a jab at Adrian. Rubbing salt in the wound. No wonder Adrian was indifferent with us.
