"Okay…" Feeling full and a bit sick, I put the cracker back on the plate. "And when this marking is all over… when I survive it — and believe me I will—"
Alex grinned, making me all the more irritated that he'd doubted my strength — that any of them would.
"What happens then? I'm Ethan's mate? I live to serve him, then I die? Only if Cassius doesn't ever find me?"
Alex went deathly still. "It's sad… tragic, actually… how little they tell you these days. About us. About the world and about your place in it."
"So tell me!" I pounded my fist into the pillow next to me, scaring the crap out of myself. I'd always been controlled — it had been bred into me from birth. And I'd just yelled at an immortal like he was a petulant child.
Alex grinned. "I think you'll do just fine, Genesis. Just fine." He chuckled warmly. "Try not to be too hard on us. We've been waiting for a chance to change things for a very long time… and you just may be exactly what we've been waiting for."
"I can't do anything if you don't tell me what I'm supposed to be doing!" Tears threatened, the confusion and fear back full force. "I don't know what to do. Just tell me what I'm supposed to do."
"And that's the problem right there." Alex leaned forward, sadness etched in his every feature. "Your whole life, choices have been taken from you, rather than given to you." He hung his head. "I'll do this once and only once… I'll throw you a bone, isn't that what it's called? Do you a solid? A favor? And give you one goal this evening, one thing to set your small misinformed mind toward."
I waited in anticipation.
"Survive," he said softly. "Just survive. And when the flames threaten to take you higher and higher, give in. When the heat scorches you from the inside out, when tears no longer come, when the need is all you can contemplate… you survive."
He stood and shrugged, as if he hadn't just scared the crap out of me.
"Oh, and also? It would probably be good to call for your mate…" He offered a haphazard shrug. "When it's time."
"When I'm dying?"
"Only when your need is so great for him that you've forgotten yourself completely. That's when you whisper his name. Pray to God he answers — because he still has a choice in this, and if he doesn't choose you, survival will be pointless. You. Will. Die."
A lone tear fell down my cheek before I could wipe it away
Alex reached out and captured it with his thumb. "It's been years since I've seen real tears. I hope you keep yours. I hope the gift of feeling such strong emotions remains — then again — for your sake, at the same time, I hope they don't."
He left me.
Just like that.
With shaky hands, I put the tray on the nearby table and went back to lie on the bed, freaking out, wondering when the heat was going to come, when the pain would arrive, and when I would be out of my mind for a mate who clearly didn't want me.
A mate.
Like a husband.
Rejection washed over me.
I would never get normal.
Never have a family.
And most likely never have the type of love I'd always secretly wanted — it had all been stripped away from me the day I'd walked into that room. And a part of me hated my family for not telling me the truth about what I was about to do.
My mom had smiled.
And she'd probably known it was a death sentence.
I tried not to dwell on it — tried to stay positive — so I focused on what Alex said.
Survival.
I counted the seconds, the minutes as they turned into hours, and when the clock struck midnight out in the hall, I thought that maybe I would be different, maybe whatever was happening to me wasn't going to be as bad as both Alex and Ethan had warned.
Then the heat started in my toes.
I welcomed it because I'd been so cold all day.
It spread from my toes up my legs, warming me up like a blanket; by the time it reached my thighs, it was uncomfortable. I started throwing covers off me, but it didn't help.
Fire reached my chest, making it hard to breathe.
And when it touched my lips, it was like someone had placed coal in my mouth.
I cried out.
But no sound came.
I pounded my chest; the motion made the heat worse. I didn't think it could get more painful.
But it did. I glanced at the clock again.
It was two minutes past midnight.
And I already wanted to die.
The pain skyrocketed; I reared back, hitting my head on the headboard. Another surge of scorching heat flared.
The door opened, but my vision was blurred. It was hard to see who had come in.
It wasn't until he lay down on the bed next to me and grabbed my hand that I could focus on the form.
Mason.
As a werewolf.
Or a very large dog.
His eyes were sad.
And when I cried out again, he pulled me into his arms and squeezed while my body convulsed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Genesis
HE WAS BEAUTIFUL. LONG BROWN HAIR cascaded past his shoulders — part of it was braided. Pieces fell by his perfectly sculpted face.
He smiled. His green eyes illuminated my whole world.
I reached for him, but each time my hands lifted, the burning was worse, so I learned to keep them behind me.
A sword was clasped in his right hand. He slid the blade across his left hand and held it in the air as blood dripped in slow motion onto the ground.