CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Haydar received word from Leigh that Dominic had started working on his own agenda, killing people and disregarding orders. That useless, idiot always got into fucking trouble. Haydar took the chair he was sitting in and threw it against the wall. Pictures fell from the wall and shattered on the ground. Looking at the mess he made on the ground, he saw that one of the pictures that broke was his beloved Sarah. He felt his blood boil and his hands started to burn. Storming over to the photo, he knelt down and picked it up, placing it on his desk. He leaned back against the wall looking at her face, his mate, the only person who believed in him. Looking at the picture, the sketch of her face, gods, he could remember that face. He remembered the first day he met her, running away from his family, from the life they were denying him.

  Lying on the creek banks, Haydar watched as the stars danced up above him. He had not seen his family in a few centuries. Getting as far away from his okht as he could, he decided it was best to head west, up to England. He wanted nothing to do with anyone and wanted as little association with the ones who betrayed him as he could manage. They were nothing but filthy liars who only wanted to use him and not reward him. Well, he would show them. Thinking about his okht, he manifested a fireball in the shape of her face above his stomach. “Dearest okht, you will die by my hands, and so will your descendants. Never will there be peace in your house as long as I’m alive.” Letting the ball of fire soar through the air, he watched as it hit a tree and burned.

  “You shouldn’t do that you know,” he heard from off in the distance. Getting up and looking around, he saw the woman lying on a branch in one of the trees.

  “Oh, I shouldn’t? And why is that fair maiden?” Haydar stood and started to walk toward her, the tips of his fingers starting to tingle as his power waited to be summoned.

  “My home is in these trees, and I would hate for you to have burned mine up.” She hopped off the limb and walked over to him. “What made you light the tree on fire? It had done you no harm.”

  Haydar looked the woman over, not sure what to make of her. “I helped William, Duke of Normandy, in a few battles, so as payment he gave me part of the Nova Foresta. He didn’t mention that included in our deal, would be maidens who like to tell warriors what to do.”

  She eyed him, looking him up and down as she tried to figure out what he was all about. “He is a foolish human male. Why even bother with the likes of him? We should kill him off. I know who was behind his attempted assassination, and I am amazed they failed.”

  Haydar saw the blood lust in her eyes as she talked about her distaste for the human. How she would use him as a pawn. He had never met another like her before. She was a woman after his own heart, full of vengeance and hate. “What is your name or shall I just call you ‘Maiden’?” He watched her as she narrowed her eyes at him. He could feel his mind starting to hurt. What was she doing to him? He was forced to kneel on the ground. Fighting the urge as best he could, his body acquiesced to her will. She walked over to him and ran her fingers across his jawline.

  “My name is Sarah, and you will not burn any more of my forest down. I don’t care what anyone claimed they gave you.”

  He looked up at her in amazement, watching her black eyes swirl and the gold flecks form around her iris just seconds before feeling her pierce his mind. How she could control his mind… it was breathtaking. He had met his equal and he intended to keep her.

  Haydar snapped back into reality when he heard the sound of someone knocking on his door. “Enter,” he barked, knowing his anger was past the point of reasoning. One of his generals walked in and started delivering the news.

  “Dominic is out of control; he has started killing anyone he runs into. He needs to be stopped.” Haydar started to pace back and forth, trying to decide what he wanted to do with his soul surviving ebn’.

  “We need to put him down. Schedule our flight; I’m going to kill him myself.”

  Dominic walked into his hotel room and slammed the door, pacing back and forth, his body was shaking uncontrollably. How did he stop this hunger, this need? He moved his body to the bed but he didn’t really feel anything. The urge to kill was taking his senses over. More, he needed more. He needed to find someone else. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Who the fuck wanted him now? One moment of peace was all he asked for. He took the phone out and saw his abb, his fucking abb. He would have been better off left for dead than raised by that man. Pressing ignore on his phone, he slipped it back in his pocket and took his knife out from the bag.

  He unsheathed the blade, the blood dripping from the cover to his pant leg. Running his finger through the blood, he brought it to his lips. Licking it from his skin, his body shivered at the flavour. Closing his eyes, he thought back to the kill, the man lying on the table, his screams echoing in his thoughts. Taking the knife in his other hand, he brought the tip down to his leg and pressed it into his skin. The blade started to penetrate; he could feel the cool metal entering his body. He closed his eyes, the pain taking him into a trance. He felt a soothing calmness fill his senses, when out of nowhere he heard a voice.

  “My ebn’, stop hurting yourself. Put down the knife; you don’t need this pain.” Dominic looked around the room. Not seeing anyone, he realized he must have imagined it. He started to dig the knife in deeper, and she appeared in front of him, dressed in light green silk dress with her black hair flowing down her back. “My ebn’, I said to stop. Do you want your abb to be right that your life is nothing more than worthless? Set the knife down, Dominic.”

  “Who are you? How did you get here?” He looked at her face; she looked so much like Derrik, like the photo his abb kept in his office. “How…” He watched her walk to him, reaching her hand out and setting it on his. Her touch felt like a rush of air brushing against his skin.

  “I’m here to save you, Dominic. You need to stop this. This isn’t your battle, this is your abb’s, and you don’t want to die.”

  He removed his hand from where she touched him, glaring at her. “Leave me alone…my omm is dead; you’re fake. I killed her; go away!” He took the knife and pulled it from his leg, standing up and walking away from her.

  She drifted her translucent body in front of him, “Dominic you know I did not die because of you. Your abb is wrong for telling this to you. Stop believing the lies. You can be good and noble.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “Please listen to me.” He paused just a moment before shrugging her off and walked back to the bed, sheathing the knife and stuffing it back in the bag. “Leave me alone! I don’t want you here, you left me in 1578, and if you were really my omm you would have come to me to help me the hundreds of times he hit me. LEAVE. ME. ALONE!”

  He grabbed the bag and made his way to the door. Looking back at her, he growled then pulled open the door and went to his car. Throwing the bag in the back seat, he sat behind the wheel. His leg wound had started bleeding at a steady pace. Ignoring the pain, he pulled out of the parking lot and headed to the royal family’s home. It was time to finish this bullshit.