Page 141 of Burn for Her

Xin and Lucian held his father down. They both understood how important it was to Dorian that he be the one to kill him.

“Do it!” Lucian shouted.

Sucking in a breath, Dorian thrust his hand out, driving the stake into his father’s chest. It barely penetrated.

The monster’s scarred face twisted with laughter. “You can’t, son.”

He was right. Dorian might as well have tried shoving a toothpick through concrete. He couldn’t do it. He was too depleted and caught up in the anguish of knowing he was going to leave everything he loved behind and this monster would survive long enough to destroy it after Dorian died.

“No.” He refused to accept defeat. Refused to fail killing this monster twice. Steadfast, Dorian used his body weight and one good arm to push the stake deeper into his father’s chest. He looked down at the impalement. Blinked slowly. It wasn’t enough. He couldn’t do it. He had no strength left.

A second set of hands wrapped around his. Lena.

Soundlessly, she helped him shove the stake further into his father’s chest, impaling him right through his heart - if the monster even possessed such a thing.

“Not enough.” Dorian’s tongue burned and blistered. His saliva boiled in his mouth.

With a gurgling grunt, his father fell to his knees and Dorian went down with him. They were face-to-face, both monsters to the bitter fucking end.

“You’ve done me proud,” his father sputtered as blood welled in his mouth. “I’ve trained you well, son.”

Dorian’s heart sank to his boots.

“You’re just like me.” He said, smiling with a mouthful of rotten, chipped teeth.

While on his knees, bloody, burning, and broken, Dorian remembered moments like this back when he was kid. Reminisced about their shack where his father took people against their will and made sure they never got out alive. Rehashed how he was forced to watch innocents live through horrors, just so his father could coax their fears forward. The rotten piece of shit played with them like toys. Discarded them like trash. Didn’t care about anything other than the high he caught while killing, and the pleasure of Dorian’s anguish when he’d cry over their dead bodies while they burned.

Dorian’s death count was different. Murder might be murder, but the ones he killed were sanctioned and necessary to secure the safety of their race. He never raised an angry hand to an innocent. Never forced someone to do something against their will. He was the exact opposite of this monstrosity before him.

“I’m nothing like you.”

He looked beyond his retched father and locked eyes on Lena. She held a huge, curved blade in her hand, and silently held it out to him. He reached for it, wrapping his hand over hers as she brought the blade to the monster’s neck. Lena drove her knee into the vampire’s back, forcing him to bow, then shoved his head, tipping and holding it against her stomach.

She exposed his throat.

Her gaze remained on Dorian.

Holding that blade together, they sliced that monster’s neck wide-the-fuck-open.

Lena showed no fear. Blood sprayed, releasing Dorian from countless shackles, regrets, and remorse.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled the breath he’d been holding for a lifetime.

Chapter 46

Dorian was a child, running and giggling. He brushed his fingers along the perfectly box-shaped shrubs and squealed when he was caught…

He shot up gasping.

I’m alive.

Chest heaving, he looked down at his arms. Not a single blister. Not an ounce of pain.

“You’re awake!” Lena’s relief made him feel ten kinds of ways, none of which he could put a finger on.

He blinked fast and licked his dry, cracked lips.

“He’s awake!” Lena yelled.