Shattered: Paranormal Vampire Romance (Immortal Love Series Book 4)

by Anna Santos

  “Please, honey.”

  His pleading voice made me face the glass. The blood was alluring beyond description, and then it hit me as if I could read his thoughts. That blood was different, that blood was his. Rage filled my eyes. Growling, I slapped the glass from his hand. The glass flew, crashing and spreading its content on the wall. He had tried to trick me!

  My rage stopped as soon as I understood I had hurt him. His hand had hit the silver bar and had burned it. I could smell the burning flesh. I felt sick to my stomach and emotionally affected. I had hurt my mate. I'd burnt his skin. I was a monster for reacting like that to him and hitting him. We don't harm mates!

  “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!”

  Tears erupted from my eyes. Without thinking, I grabbed the cage's bars and burnt myself in the process. I couldn’t care less about the pain, I just wanted him to forgive me. The look of shock in his eyes made a hole inside my soul. I had disappointed him. He saw the monster in me. The one with dark eyes who looked at him with tears that could never excuse what I had done to him.

  I froze with what he did next. He got up, trashed the cage door, and took me in his arms, speeding out of that place. All this in a split second. I didn't even have time to scream and tell him not to touch me. I didn't have time to understand that he had broken his promise because all became scarily black as I fainted.

  Chapter THREE

  Eric

  My family kept telling me that I should rest and eat, but I couldn't leave her alone in the bedroom with the doctor and the nurses around her. And what if she woke up and thought they were hurting her? I needed to stay next to her. Even if I couldn't bear to look at all the bruises and the whipping marks imprinted on her skin as a reminder of everything terrible she had endured at the hands of my twisted brother.

  Anna stepped into the bedroom, and I looked at her as if she was my savior. “Were you able to talk to dad and Jessie, yet?”

  “I left them a message,” Anna said, sitting on the couch next to me. She folded her arms and looked at the bed where the nurses and the doctor hovered over my mate's body. “How's she doing?”

  “She's still unconscious. The doctor gave her medicine for the pain. They are cleaning and treating her wounds. Then, they'll feed her through an IV, because they are afraid that she might throw up. She needs blood to heal.”

  “Yes ...”

  “But I'm afraid that ... it might be too late, and she has already given up.”

  Anna put her hand over mine, squeezing mine tight. “She fought her attacker. He wanted to kill her. She wouldn't fight him if she didn't want to live. She's just confused. Give her time to calm down and realize that she's safe here.”

  “I will, but how can I show her how much I want her if she doesn't let me touch her? I want to hold her ...”

  “Baby steps, uncle,” Anna said, leaning her head against my arm. “You should get some rest. I can stay here with her and keep her company.”

  “Where's Shane?”

  “He's trying to find the names of the other prisoners. Some were missing girls, and his deputies are contacting their families.”

  “How are we going to deal with the fact that they were abused by vampires? Moreover, how are we going to explain how we found them?”

  Anna explained to me with all the patience in the world. “Trained vampires will erase their memories about vampires and make them believe that they were normal men. We have taken care of everything regarding the fake cover-up story.”

  “I should be taking care of that.” I sighed, aware of my responsibilities but unable to perform them.

  “No one is expecting you to do anything. Your mate is your priority now. Even if Grandpa and Jessie eloped, Shane and I are here to help. You don't need to worry about the rest. Just worry about Elizabeth and about feeding. I don't want you weak.”

  “I just wish mom was here. She could help Elizabeth ... She healed people before.”

  “Yes, physical wounds. However, your mate has another type of wounds that only you can appease.”

  “Your Majesty, Princess.” The doctor bowed before us, and I raised my head to look at him, eager to know the news about Elizabeth's condition. “We did the best we could. Now, she needs to rest and have her daily bag of blood. A nurse will be sent to change the bag every day. If something in her state changes, please call me.”

  “Will the blood work?” I asked, getting up to face the doctor.

  “With time, it should work.”

  “But you aren't certain. Maybe we should use vampire blood.”

  “Your Majesty, she's a vampire. If human blood doesn't give her the nutrients she needs to heal, then vampire blood will just burn inside her veins.”

  “So, we must wait.”

  “Yes. She had signs of ...” The doctor silenced himself, staring at Annabel.

  “Signs of what?” I asked, demanding his eyes on me and not my niece. “Whatever you need to say, I can handle it. I'm perfectly able to see the state she's in. I saw the bruises and the whippings.”

  “She was sexually assaulted,” the doctor mumbled. “There are also signs of a belt around her neck ... He might have used that to ...”

  “That's enough,” Anna said, raising her hand.

  The doctor nodded. “You should find her someone to talk to about what happened when she was in captivity. She needs the help of a psychologist for supportive counseling. I can refer some who are part of the supernatural community.”

  Anna replied to the doctor, “That would be great. You can give me the information the next time you come here to see her. I'll talk to Elizabeth about it when she's feeling better.”

  I was listening, but I was numb. With blurry vision, I tried to control my anger against Alaric.

  “There's more medicine for the pain over in the nightstand,” the doctor said, showing me his hand to shake.

  I shook the doctor's hand. “Thank you!”

  “I'll stay here. Go show them out and then rest for a while. You look exhausted, uncle,” my niece said, accompanying us to the door and letting the nurses leave with all their equipment before closing the door.

  I trusted her, and I was tired. I could use a bath. But there was only one place that I could close my eyes and rest, and it was seated by Beth's side.

  Chapter FOUR

  Elizabeth

  I woke up. No dreams, no memories, just coming from darkness to face pain again. My whole body was in agony. My mind was confused, my ears were trying to adjust to reality, and my eyes were too idle to open.

  I knew it was day, and I was no longer in a scary place. I could smell him—his spicy and citrus scent. Heaven must smell like him. I sighed from pleasure. It had been a while since I had allowed myself to feel safe and a bit less frightened. His presence and his scent would do that to me.

  My ears heard the sound of hospital machines. I felt the blood pumping inside my veins, and the hunger was less, as was the fatigue and the pain. He had taken me from my comfort zone inside that cage, and all I could say was: “Eric?”

  “I'm here.”

  I saw him when I opened my eyes. He was even more gorgeous than I remembered him to be. Then, I didn't know what else to tell him. I didn't even know why I called him in the first place. I felt ashamed, remembering I had hurt him.

  “I'm sorry if I hurt you. I didn't mean it.”

  “I'm sorry, too. I just wanted you to eat and heal,” he said. “But if you don't want to hurt me, then you shouldn't try to starve yourself to death.”

  I had nothing to say to his words. He was right. Dying would be the worst pain a mate could inflict on another. But that was when I thought that mates were special. Mates were perfect and wouldn’t hurt us. So how, in a million years, Marie's mate could be the worst, the meanest vampire on Earth to her? How could sweet, loving, and caring Marie have that kind of soul-mate?

  “I'm sorry.” Eric sighed, waking me from my sad thoughts.

  “What are you sorry for?”

&n
bsp; “I'm sorry for what my brother did to you. I'm sorry if I've saved you from dying, and I'm sorry if I'm not enough to make you want to live.”

  He spoke the last words so sadly that I felt terrible. It was not his fault. He was not to blame for my weakness and incapacity to overcome my fears and bad memories.

  “It's not your fault.”

  Eric waited for me to say something else while I looked at him, memorizing each beautiful line of his face. Why the gods had been so good to me and punished Marie? Did she do something wrong?

  “I don't feel I should be happy when my sister … is … being treated so badly by her own mate.”

  I confessed what I was feeling. At least, a tiny percentage of my thoughts. Eric could never fully understand it. He wasn’t a female, and he hadn’t been abused or watched his sister being tormented by her mate while being savagely raped by him.

  My sister hadn’t been strong enough and went mad. I had wished to go crazy, too. I had wanted to lose my sanity so I wouldn't understand what was happening to me. So, I could leave my body and go somewhere else, somewhere where I couldn’t feel repulsion, hopelessness, and my soul being ripped apart and shredded to pieces.

  “He also hurt you,” Eric whispered.

  He looked away as if he knew all the bad things that Alaric had done to me.

  Is he repulsed by me? Is he disgusted by my body because I had been … raped?

  He couldn't possibly hate me more than I hated myself. Any kind of jealousy or repulsion for what had happened was nothing compared to my agony. I hated males, hated sex, hated my body, and hated my own existence. I longed for oblivion. I longed for peace. Grief had become my only comfort and only escape.

  “Please, stop crying. I can't restrain myself from touching you if you cry like that.”

  Eric's words made me realize I was sobbing and shivering like a baby. Then I understood he said he didn't want to touch me. Did he actually say that? He didn't want to touch me! I burst into tears and let the pain shake my fragile body until it was hard to breathe.

  “What's wrong?” Eric got up with a worried expression, apparently unable to understand why I was crying even harder.

  “You hate me.”

  I thought I wouldn't care. I thought I didn't want him, but it hurt even more than I believed it could, the rejection of my own soul-mate.

  “I don't hate you! How can you possibly think that?”

  “You don't want to touch me!”

  Now I looked like a spoiled brat with a split personality. One thing is wishing that your soul-mate would ignore you and not want to touch you, and another is realizing he doesn't want to do that either.

  “Elizabeth, you told me not to. I want you, and I want to touch you. You are my soul-mate.” He spoke gently.

  I forced my tears to stop and gazed at him as I clumsily cleaned my wet eyes.

  “What?” I stuttered, unsure if I had heard right.

  “I want you. It doesn't matter what happened. I'm here now. We are meant to be together, and I'm not going to give up on you.”

  His eyes were beautiful, his voice sweet and without a trace of doubt as if we’d known each other all our lives. I believed him. I don't know why, but I did. He knelt on the floor. His head was now at my level since I was laid on a bed.

  His next words restarted my heart. “You are my soul-mate. How can you possibly think that I hate you and I would reject you?”

  “Because he hates her.”

  “Who, honey?”

  “Your brother hates my sister, Marie, and he's her mate. He's her other half, but he torments and hurts her!”

  Eric seemed lost for words. He just widened his eyes, and I heard his heart slow down its beat. Tears rushed down my cheeks. It seemed the typical thing to do these days. Finding my mate should be the happiest event of my life. But all I could do was cry and continuously remind myself of the injustice and cruelty of destiny.

  Feeling drained, I closed my eyes. I wanted to fall asleep again, so I could stop existing for a while. Sleeping would lessen the pain.

  Then I felt it: Eric wrapped his arms around my body and hugged me. He held me tenderly, not pressuring me, as if he knew I would try to run away.

  But I didn't.

  For a moment, I wanted to scream and push him back. Then I felt oddly safe. My head fell against his neck and our chests collided. A sense of peace wrapped around me like a blanket, and I felt safe like I never had before. As if I had just died and gone to heaven. If that was the power of a mate—that hug, that ability to make us feel safe—what would Marie feel each time Alaric would rape her, each time he would hit, scorn, and kick her?

  Could it be worse than hell?

  Chapter FIVE

  Elizabeth

  It was dark and cold as always in the first weeks since we were imprisoned by Marie's mate. He left us starving, so we were weak and vulnerable, which left our senses diminished.

  I had to be strong because Marie wouldn’t stop crying. My sister couldn't understand why her mate didn't want her. Why he didn't love her. She felt ugly, miserable, and confused. I had to be her safety net. I had to hold her and wipe away her tears, but I was as scared and confused as she. Why didn't he want her? How could he even want to kill her in the first place? The beliefs we had accepted as true had turned into dust.

  Then the torturing began. Alaric would come down to the dungeons and laugh at us, call us names, and demean Marie by calling her a hybrid’s whore and all sort of humiliating names. He was a real demented vampire.

  Despite his behavior, Marie tried to reason with him, tried to appeal to him through their bond. He laughed at her and told her the reason she was still alive was because of a curse that a witch had cast on him centuries ago. A curse that was his punishment for betraying the witch. Therefore, as soon as he found her or her heirs, he would kill us all and would end the curse. The curse dictated that when he would find his mate, he would be bonded to her physically, meaning that if he hurt her or tried to kill her, the same would happen to him. So, by hurting her, he would hurt himself as well. However, that didn't mean that he couldn't hurt the people she loved. To prove his point, he grabbed me and snapped my neck. I died momentarily, and when I woke up, Marie was sobbing, both of us alone in the dark.

  The abusing, cursing, and torture continued for days. Feeding was rare. He would only let us have enough so Marie and I wouldn't die permanently, but we couldn't call that living.

  Then it was time for the physical abuse. I don't know what changed, but he began to come often to see Marie. He noticed that she couldn't resist his touch. Despite him being cruel to her, my sister still shivered every time he touched her until it happened, the worst thing that could ever happen. To humiliate her, he touched her and made her feel as if he cared, to just insult her afterward. He kissed her, only to laugh at her weakness. He made her beg and crawl after him.

  I had to watch all that, helpless and powerless. I couldn't make him stop or force him to keep his filthy hands off her.

  All got worse when he found a better way to torment her. He couldn't hurt her, at least not enough to kill her, because the wretch seemed to enjoy hurting her physically even if it hurt him. The pain seemed to turn him on. Later, I found out that was true. The sick bastard liked to inflict pain. What worse pain could there be for Marie than seeing her soul-mate fucking a stranger and raping her own sister?

  He raped me in front of Marie. I had screamed and begged him not to. I learned later not to scream, not to beg. It made him want it more, to inflict more pain. I had begged her not to look. She didn't obey, and, for a moment, I thought she hated me. Me and not him! Me for being raped by him, when she was the one who begged him to make love to her, to have her then and there as if nothing of what was happening was pure madness.

  I never felt anything worse in my whole existence. I would rather have been whipped a thousand times or be beaten over and over again. Nothing felt worse than having him against me, his lips burning my skin, his
voice whispering in my ear, his hands forcing me to look at him while he hurt me each time he moved inside me. It was repulsive. I felt disgusted. It hurt so much! I wanted to kill him, but if I did so, if I, by any chance, could do something to him, I would hurt my sister, too. I would kill Marie. The need to die and disappear haunted me. Still, if I left, I would leave my sister there, alone, without anyone to hug her when he left. I couldn't bear to let her live that hell by herself. I had no choice but to live and endure the abuse.

  For some time, I had no idea how much Marie had begun to hate me. I didn't want him inside me, but she did want him inside her. She lusted for him. And I started to curse the mate bond. It was not a good thing, it was slavery, and it was madness. Something sick and disgusting. It was the most perverted thing that the gods allowed to exist.

  “Eric!” I screamed, trembling, and bursting into tears.

  I had just dreamed all the bad things that happened to me. I was feeling scared and alone. The past few days, screaming my mate's name was becoming normal when I was frightened. His presence made everything seem less frightening.

  Eric was beside me, holding my hand, with widened eyes and out of breath. He had been sleeping in an armchair next to me. He never left my side. He knew I had nightmares, he knew I was damaged, and he was not. The only pains he had were the ones I was giving him. I was a terrible mate. He deserved so much better than me. Someone who wouldn't wake him up screaming in terror.

  I focused on his voice to make the darkness go away. “It was just a nightmare. I’m here. Breathe. I won’t let anyone hurt you … ever.”

  My mate was so naïve, so pure and innocent! Did he think I would believe that? No one would be safe. No one was safe. The gods were cruel; the world was filled with evil people. My sister was mated to a demon, who could be tormenting her at that very moment.

  “You don't need to be strong all the time. Elizabeth, you can let your guard down. I'm here now, honey.”

  I didn't know if I should laugh at his words or cry helplessly like a child. Was it a joke? He thought I was strong? I was weak and useless. I was afraid, and I could do nothing to fight that fear away.