Carissa Broadbent

Slaying the Vampire Conqueror

Izaac Richards

Neither Atrius nor his men killed a single person.

All at once, the realities of my role crashed down on me. In one day, three versions of myself who were not supposed to coexist - Sylina the seer, Sylina the Arachessen, and Vivi the lost little girl – had collided in the most confusing ways. The pieces of myself didn't fit together. They were ugly contradictions.

He let out an almost-laugh. "So bold of you, to talk to me that way." Rough, scarred fingertips touched my face, the contrast between his skin and the touch so stark it made my heart stutter. His gaze lowered, lingering on my mouth. 

"Do you think I don't see," he said, voice low, "that the past is devouring you, too?"

"Even if you could," I replied, "I wouldn't believe them." 

I was grateful for his honesty. For his imperfect effort. No one who had survived the lives we had could deny the value of that. Most never try at all.

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