Chapter 3: Our Final Goodbyes

••{RHIANNON’S POV}••

In the blink of an eye, the cathedral turns into a slaughterhouse.

I watch in horror as the vampires butcher the royal guards like wolves descending on a flock of sheep.

One of them grabs a guard by the head and wrenches it clean from his shoulders. Another drives his hand into a soldier’s stomach, dragging out ribs and entrails in a shower of blood.

Everywhere I look, people are screaming, praying, and begging desperately for their lives. And through the chaos, the red-haired vampire keeps walking toward me, his golden eyes never once leaving mine.

My heart stops when I see my father running toward him.

"Father, no!" I scream.

My father’s sword slices through the air as he attacks, but the vampire dodges every strike effortlessly. On the fifth swing, he raises one hand and my father is ripped off the ground, kicking uselessly as he’s suspended in mid-air. Then with a flick of his wrist, the vampire sends him crashing into the far wall of the cathedral.

"Father!" I cry out, rushing toward him.

I fall to my knees beside his still body, my hands trembling as I reach for him. Rayn, Jesenya, and Darren quickly follow, their faces utterly terrified.

"Father!" my sister cries, shaking his shoulder. "Wake up! Please, wake up!"

Cyrus drops down beside us, pressing two fingers to my father’s neck.

For a few, agonizing seconds, he doesn’t say a word. I watch his expression desperately, searching for any sign of hope.

Then finally he exhales. "He’s alive."

A shaky breath escapes me as relief floods my heart. "Thank the Goddess," I whisper.

"Is Papa hurt?" Darren asks, his small voice trembling as he clutches onto Rayn’s hand. "Is he... going to be okay?"

"He’ll be fine," Cyrus answers, giving him a little smile.

Rayn pulls our little brother closer.

"Hey, don’t cry, little one," he says softly, wiping the tears from his cheeks. "You heard Cyrus. Papa’s going to be fine."

My fingers shake as I reach for Cyrus’s hand, locking them together and holding on tight.

"Cyrus..." I whisper as tears run down my face. "What are we going to do?"

Cyrus kisses me so desperately that he steals the breath from my lungs. Each time our lips lock, it feels as if he’s trying to give me every promise, every dream, and every piece of the future we were meant to have in a single moment.

When he pulls away and rests his forehead against mine, my heart already knows what my mind refuses to accept.

This is goodbye.

Tears gather in Cyrus’s blue eyes as he looks into mine, and for a few heartbeats, neither of us says a word.

"I have to go," he whispers.

I slowly shake my head, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks.

"No," I say firmly. "No, you don’t."

I tighten my fingers around his as if holding on hard enough can keep him here with me.

A broken laugh escapes him but there’s no humor in it.

"Someone has to protect you, Rhia," he says softly. "Who else is it going to be if not me?"

"You don’t have to do this," I cry desperately, my words tumbling out fast. "Please, Cyrus. Let someone else fight them. Let the guards—let anyone else—"

My voice breaks as I clutch his hand tighter. "You can’t leave me."

Cyrus lifts his free hand and cups my cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that won’t stop falling.

The tenderness in his touch almost breaks me more than the fear.

"Rhia..." he whispers.

I lean into his palm and close my eyes, pretending like this is all a nightmare and we’re still standing at the altar.

Pretending I actually got the chance to say, I do.

"Please," he says softly. "Let me go."

"Let me come with you," Rayn says, grabbing Cyrus’s arm.

"No!" I snap, turning toward him. "We stay here with Father, Jesenya, and Darren."

I turn back to Cyrus.

For a moment, I can only look at him.

I trace every familiar line of his face—the curve of his jaw, the softness in his blue eyes, the way his blonde curls fall across his forehead. My trembling fingers lift to brush through it, committing every part of him to memory.

Because a part of me is terrified that this will be the last time I ever touch him.

"Cyrus..."

His hand covers mine, holding it against his cheek.

And with every piece of my heart screaming at me to stop him, I force myself to say the words I never wanted to speak.

"Go."

A faint smirk pulls at his lips but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Then a single tear slips down his cheek.

"I love you, Rhia," he says, his fingers slowly slipping from mine.

My lips part.

"I lo—"

But before I can say it back, he’s already gone, marching toward the red-haired vampire.

"Cyrus!" Alexei shouts, tossing his brother a sheathed sword.

My love catches it instantly, drawing the blade as he joins Alexei.

Standing side by side, they turn to face the vampire. And as they charge at him, my heart beats so violently I can barely breathe.

The brothers move in perfect rhythm, Cyrus striking high while Alexei attacks low, forcing the vampire to defend from both sides. But the vampire doesn’t even seem to be trying.

He moves between their attacks with terrifying ease, slipping past their blades like he already knows where each strike will land.

I gasp when the vampire punches Cyrus in the ribs, sending him skidding across the floor. Alexei quickly swings for his neck, but the vampire kicks him in the chest, knocking him several feet away.

Cyrus forces himself back to his feet and raises his sword again.

His eyes find mine and the determination on his face nearly breaks me.

He charges again, and this time his blade finally connects, slicing across the vampire’s face.

For the first time, the vampire looks startled. He touches the wound, but when he looks at the blood on his fingers...

He smiles.

The skin slowly knits itself back together before my eyes.

Cyrus lunges again but the vampire catches his wrist and twists until bone bursts through his skin.

"Cyrus!" I scream with everything I have.

His agonizing cry fills the cathedral as his sword falls from his hand and clatters against the floor.

The vampire wraps one hand around Cyrus’s throat and lifts him off the ground.

Cyrus claws at his grip with his good hand, his face twisting with pain as he struggles to breathe.

No..." I whisper.

Before my mind can even grasp what’s happening, the vampire drives his free hand straight through Cyrus’s chest.

My entire body goes numb.

I watch through my tears as Cyrus’s body jerks violently, his mouth opening in a silent scream.

Blood gushes down the vampire’s arm, soaking Cyrus’s clothes before dripping all over the floor.

"CYRUS!"

His mother’s cry echoes through the cathedral, followed by his sister’s screams.

But I can’t tear my eyes away from the vampire.

Slowly, he pulls his hand free. Resting in his blood-soaked palm, still twitching with a faint, dying beat, is Cyrus’s heart.

"No..." I whisper again, shaking my head slowly.

The vampire glances down at the heart in his hand with nothing but contempt.

"Pathetic," he says coldly, letting it slip from his fingers.

It hits the marble floor with a sickening thud, then without hesitation, he crushes it beneath his boot.

Freed from the vampire’s grip, the man I love collapses to the floor, landing in a pool of his own blood.