But she runs when I’m insensitive. She’s young. She’s weaker than she realizes. She’s naïve. She’s far too trusting.

Claim her before another does.

Dorian got too close. I can still smell remnants of his scent on her, even though she’s showered. The monster claws that much closer to the surface.

“I’m a monster too,” she mumbles, though now I think she’s less convinced of that than ever.

I’ve seen her cry.

I’ve seen her nearly hyperventilate.

I’ve seen her leap off mountainsides in a panic.

I’ve seen her take everything, and still feel confident enough to stand tall and tackle the next major thing. Time after time.

I’ve seen her overestimate herself more times than I can count.

I’ve also been stupefied by how much I’ve underestimated her just as many times.

This is the first time I’ve truly seen her question what she’s capable of.

“My father genuinely believed he was making Dorian stronger, just as his father had made him,” I tell her, my gaze scanning her sad, defeated face. “You see, my father is also the bastard son of a respected man and a common whore. His father’s name wasn’t Morpheous. My father decided to make his mother’s name mean more than his father’s, after he realized her very gifted gypsy heritage offered him something powerful inside his mind. He built his life from scratch, given nothing at all from the father who couldn’t claim him. He let my mother keep her dignity, just as his father’s wife was allowed to do, but still raised Dorian as a good service to my brother.”

Her eyes stay on mine, and I let that sink in.

“It was a different world. People were vicious, yet genuinely believed they were doing everything they could to repent the mistakes they made, while also taking responsibility. Bastards brought about by a man’s whore were beaten and shamed. If they were adored, the wife was shamed by everyone else, because that meant her husband loved that whore. That offense was worse than simply fucking another woman.”

She looks away, clearing her throat, as I smooth my hand up her back.

“My father was a man blinded by his own accomplishments, because he did accomplish far more than any other bastard during that time. He expected Dorian to turn out just like him. Then he expected my brother to thank him for not deserting him like most of the whore-bastards’ fathers did.”

Her gaze moves back to meet mine, and she slips her hand behind my neck.

“We’re alphas. We’ve made peace with most everything, although we do have plenty of bitter history remaining. Our families have grown closer over these long years, because you’re humbled after living for so long. As alphas, we have a little fun with the killing, because we’ve also made peace with the tough decisions we’re required to make. Arion is right in the sense that if you don’t enjoy being a monster, you’ll simply be miserable all the time. I stopped enjoying being a monster. I started hating eternity. I was genuinely begging for death without shame, to a Van Helsing I hated submitting the last ounce of my pride to,” I tell her, forcing the words out.

She holds my gaze, never looking away, as her touch makes me work that much harder to stay in control.

Claim her.

Free me.

“I knew it was a myth. I knew we couldn’t truly die. Still, that hope kept me from losing my mind for several centuries. I’ll thank Vance for that. One day. No time soon, of course, because it’s quite degrading, looking back on it. But I will thank him for that at some point during our never-ending lifetime. Now I realize he did that to keep me from going crazy. He lied about there being a true death. He went through elaborate hoops to sell this lie. It wasn’t just me he was giving hope, though. It was all of us,” I carry on, my gaze raking over her face.

She shivers against me when I drag her closer, bringing her body flush against mine, as my lips brush hers. My control is slipping.

I can’t push her away.

I can’t seem to stop touching her.

It’s too late now.

If she tried to run, the monster would break free and give chase. Possibly traumatize her and leave her to hate me for all eternity, even after I’ve claimed her as mine.

Free me.

“Now we know the truth, because he sees no reason to keep lying. The simple fact that you’re willing to take a beating, with a Van Helsing flogger, at Idun’s hand, over a worthless shifter, for the sake of protecting your Sanctuary, all while taunting the bitch? That’s rather motivating, little monster.”

She leans into me, as I cup her cheek. She’s too submissive and compliant right now. Does she not realize the things that does to a man’s volatile monster.

Free me.

“Maddening as you are, you’re like setting a firecracker off in a house full of stale, forgotten dynamite. Keep doing what you’re doing. Even Zuela Van Helsing is more tolerable in recent days. Vance hasn’t stabbed me in months. Arion isn’t at Idun’s side. Emit is an alpha again. I just took a beta for the first time in too long to remember,” I tell her, smirking when she starts shifting around uncomfortably.

Surely she feels the pheromones that are leaking from me by now. My monster is slipping. How do I convince her to be okay with this?

My monster is coming, and I know I can’t push her away, or it’ll break free too easily. This is going to end in disaster if that happens.

Free me.

“I feel like you’re giving me credit for things I shouldn’t be taking credit for,” she grumbles, blushing a terribly humorous amount.

It’s almost distracting enough for me to momentarily forget the dire situation I find myself in.

Almost.

Free me.

“You wanted confessions of love, right?” I ask her, noticing how she blushes that much more.

“Stop making me feel like an idiot for that,” she says on a frustrated huff. “A simple ‘I love you’ would suffice,” she adds, clearly mortified by this point.

I do enjoy her finally understanding things a little better.

My smile slips when I realize how terrifying and humbling that all must have been for her.

Claim her.

Mark her.

Free me.

“Dorian may be my brother, and I do have sympathy for how broken he’s always been, especially since I never found the backbone back then to stick up for him. But he’s envied me for all I’ve ever had. He’s coveted each piece of me, wishing to possess it all for himself, and he’s gone out of his way to provoke me for centuries. He’ll never use you to get to me again,” I tell her very seriously.

When I have her full attention, seeing her finally listening to the words we’re saying, instead of simply plowing through for the gist, I continue.

“Idun knows that today she lost power over him, because he’ll be too terrified of me to ever push me that far again. Broken he may be, but he’s still a survivor first and foremost. He enjoys living. He enjoys being a monster. Idun’s influence will finally begin to dwindle now. Sometimes you have to break something in order to fix it. It’s just a pain in the ass to go through the motions, unless properly motivated.”

My lips finally steal hers, and I kiss her, standing with her in my arms, now that I have the strength.