Those first steps away from Elynor tore at my heart. As the precious cries of Lucinda filled the air, signaling her birth, I almost caved.
“Be strong. She is not alone in there. She has you, even if just for a little while longer.”
I didn’t bother wiping away the tears that fell. “This is how it should have been.” Casting one last look back as my fingers touched the golden thread, the hallway slowly began to fade. “With honor.”
Epilogue
Devlin
I’d never been to Heaven, or to wherever I would be spending my eternity, but I hadn’t expected it to look like the Fates atrium. Even the vacant chaise lounges looked eerily familiar, as did the tables that had once been filled with fruits and meat, but were now empty.
“I am sure you are confused, Devlin Lockhart. Are you wondering why Klothos brought you here?”
Whirling around, I’d been right. Once I’d touched the thread, I assumed it would be over—my sacrifice complete. Yes, there was still a price to be paid, but with forever stretched before me; I hadn’t expected to see the three young Moirai so soon.
“You want payment,” I answered, noting how intimidating they were, standing with the regal presence of queens. At least when they entertained company, reclining across their lavish seats, it gave the illusion of civility. Each wore a gown that glittered like diamonds and gently fell about their curves in soft folds of ethereal silk.
“You are correct.” Atropos nodded, her arms hanging gracefully by her side. “As unorthodox as your request was, it did reveal our inner longing for excitement. Time passes by so slowly in this realm. We have become lax in our attention to the comings and goings of people.”
“Our dear sister, Klothos, has shown us the error of our ways. We must care more, become more invested in the fates of our charges. After ensuring the future of your loved ones flow as they should, it gave us an idea.”
This couldn’t be good. “Mason and Darcy are together. Zane is King. Vivien? Vlad . . . my nephew?”
“They all live. Everything is as it was before Julian came. Darcy, however, is no longer part vampire. With her witch nature still intact, she is correctly learning how to master her magic with Vivien’s help.”
Something in the back on my mind niggled, like there was a missing piece to the puzzle. As happy as I was knowing that my loved ones had escaped the tragedy that came from Julian’s survival, it didn’t stop me from frowning.
“Ah, you are starting to see the truth of the matter,” Lakhesis added, her mouth pursed into a knowing smirk.
“Everything is the same,” I muttered, out loud. It was what I had wanted, but hadn’t completely thought all the way through.
By killing Julian, my assumption had been that my blood oath to Elynor had become null and void.
No vampire conversion.
No needing Vivien to help me protect the bloodline.
No watching over my descendants, looking for the one who would be born with Elynor’s magic.
No finding Joseph . . . Vlad.
So much had hinged on my becoming a vampire. When I’d erased my future, it should’ve changed the lives of at least Vivien and Vlad, as well.
“What did you do?” I asked, my eyes widening with shock. “How can this be?”
Shrugging, Atropos appeared unfazed. “Once you and Klothos left, my sister and I visited the threads of the fallen, wanting to see for ourselves how the impact of Julian’s death would affect them. We decided to ‘interfere’.” It was unnerving to see her use such a human gesture as she inserted air quotes. “What point is there to holding this power if we never have fun with it?”
Klothos gasped, lightly covering her mouth with her hand. “How could you? It is one thing to influence a dream, another to alter destinies so completely.”
Lakhesis’ face held no warmth. “This is the consequence to Devlin’s request.”
“Did you not wonder if there was another way to save the futures of those you claimed to love? Did you not consider there might be another time where killing Julian could’ve fully preserved the integrity of everyone’s destinies?” Atropos continued, finishing her sister’s thought.
“Stop talking in riddles, Atropos,” Klothos chastised, clearly upset by the news.
“What she’s trying to say is that if I hadn’t been in such a rush to fix my mistake, I would’ve seen that killing Julian . . . I don’t know . . . when he arrived at the Pack house and attacked Darcy . . . going back to right before that last battle . . . there wouldn’t have been such a drastic change.”
Lakhesis smiled, and for the first time, showed a hint of compassion. “That’s why going back in time is dangerous, Devlin Lockhart. Why we refused you. Each decision a person makes in life creates who they are. Every experience. Every interaction. Every challenge. Not only does it shape you, but it influences those around you.”
“While you wished you had killed Julian that night, it was because you didn’t that you had the future you so desperately begged to save.”
“So, it was all for nothing?” I’d sacrificed my ability to return to my friends and family, not knowing it hadn’t even been necessary. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t be discouraged. We have a gift for you.” Waving her hand, a golden string appeared in Atropos’ palm. “It is not often that we find such amusement; so we would like to re-forge your thread—go back to where you altered your destiny, and return it to how it was.”
My brain hurt trying to keep up. “You want me to still give Elynor my blood oath? But that would require me to become a vampire.”
“Yes, that is what we want. A once in a lifetime deal, so to speak.”
I was missing something. They were giving me yet another chance—a way to rectify another error in judgment. “What’s the catch?” Nothing came without a cost.
“None. This will be the consequence of your going back in time.”
“By going back in time, again?” Just when I thought I had a better grasp on the situation, it slipped between my fingers.
“Why must you make this more complicated than it already is? You messed with the fabric of time and this is how you can repair it.”
“You said there would be a price, before. Are you saying you’ve forgiven that?” It was then I noticed that familiar gleam in their eye, the one that whispered they weren’t as altruistic as I believed.
“You must still pay for that initial boon.”
Lakhesis laughed, the sound making the hair at the back of my neck stand on end. “You must relive those early days . . . the ones you try so desperately to forget. We will allow you to rejoin your future, but only if you make the same glorious choices.”
“Each one?” I asked, a sense of dread building inside me.
She nodded. “Knowingly.”
“Embracing who you once were,” Atropos added. “To become who you wish to become, again.”
In that moment, I realized that for all their illusions of beauty, the Moirai were cruel and without mercy.
They weren't asking for me to relive my worst nightmare. It went beyond that. They'd looked into my soul and found the darkest corner, that part of me I worked hard to conceal, and were exploiting it.
"You don't know what you're asking," I exclaimed, the guilt and shame from the past resurfacing as though it were fresh. It was one thing to go back without memories, to live that time as if it was the first but that wasn’t the payment they required.
"We know exactly what we ask. Do you accept our conditions?"
My stomach sank as sweat beaded across my brow. I could do this.
"Yes," I whispered, sealing our new agreement.
I was going back—back to the first days where desperation cloaked every decision.
To the days where I ceased being Devlin Lockhart and became the person I feared most.
The person I loathed above all others.
A monster.
####
His life for hers.
/> No truer words were spoken.
Charged by the Fates to relive his darkest moments to date, Devlin willing sacrifices any future happiness to restore Darcy’s faith in him. Having watched over her from birth, Devlin never regretted the blood oath he made his sister, Elynor, over a hundred years earlier.
But as he returns some of the most painful memories he holds—ones that shroud the mystery of his conversion to becoming a vampire, will he have the courage to stay true to his promises? Or will the savagery that marks his soul finally claim him?
Only time will tell.
BLOOD OATH
#8 in the Mystic Wolves series.
Coming 2015
Acknowledgements
I have daydreamed about this moment for over a year. That’s how long Last Wolf Standing’s storyline has been burning a hole in my imagination, begging to be written. It’s definitely been an exciting story . . . one that has thrilled and scared me within the same breath. A lot happens in this book. The fact you’re reading this tells me you survived.
We both survived.
If you were here with me, I’d pour you a nice big glass of wine with maybe a cookie . . . or five. Sometimes in the pursuit of a happily-ever-after, things get a little wonky and crazy. Don’t panic, though! Hold onto your faith tightly—things have a way of working out even better than you hoped.
I promise.
A BIG thank you to everyone who helped me throughout this process. Your support and love has meant the world! I wouldn’t be able to do what I do without knowing you’re all there, cheering in my corner. Sometimes even holding my hand and wiping away the tears. I love you all!
Enjoy Last Wolf Standing. It’s definitely my most favorite book within the series. These characters own me heart and soul.
Hug and kisses,
Bels
About The Author
A homesick Aussie living amongst the cactus and mountains of Arizona, Belinda Boring is a self-proclaimed addict of romance and all things swoon worthy.
With all that excitement, it wasn't long before she began writing, pouring her imagination and creativity into the stories she dreams. Whether urban fantasy, paranormal romance or romance in general, Belinda strives to share great plots with heart and characters that you can't help but connect with. Of course, she wouldn't be Belinda without adding heroes she hopes will curl your toes.
Surrounded by a supportive cast of family, friends and the man she gives her heart and soul to, Belinda is living the good life. Happy reading!
You can find Belinda Boring:
Facebook: www.facebook.com/pages/Belinda-Boring-Author/200626723318915
Twitter: https://twitter.com/BelindaBoring
Official Website: http://belindaboringbooks.blogspot.com
Other books by Belinda Boring
The Mystic Wolves series
The Mystic Wolves (#1)
Forget Me Not (#2)
Testing Fate (#3)
Forever Changed (#4)
Savage Possession (#5)
Darkness Unleashed (#6)
A Very Mystic Christmas (Novella length collection of memories)
Other titles
Broken Promises (#1, Brianna Lane series)
Enchanted Hearts
Loving Liberty
Wanderlust (#1, The Story of Us series, coauthored with Lacey Weatherford)
Coming soon
Bittersweet Melody (A Damaged Souls novel)
Jagged Edges
Read on for the first two chapters of
WANDERLUST
Book 1 in the Story of Us series
By Belinda Boring and Lacey Weatherford.
Prologue
Ryder
I am infinite.
The humans I’m watching right now would have difficulty grasping this concept—they’re so wrapped up in life and death, they don’t see that there is so much . . . more.
I like the humans, though. They’re an entertaining civilization—so full of themselves and what they deem to be important. Many believe there are other worlds out there—that life might exist elsewhere.
If only they knew what I knew. The Universe that extends beyond this small planet is just as infinite as I am. Worlds without end populate space, planets bursting with vibrant life—it’s almost too much to take in.
Don’t get me wrong, though. There is darkness, too—places that bring terror to all who come in contact with it—entire societies hanging on by a heart-breaking thread.
In fact, that’s what brings many others, as well as me, here to observe this planet. It’s one of the “in-betweens,” bordering somewhere in the middle as far as galaxies are concerned, with equal opportunity to become either great and powerful, or to self-destruct.
Yes, humans would be terrified if they knew not only are they not alone in the Universe, but we are here, living among them, like humans, also.
I am not human. I am a Wanderer. Yet, in all the eons I’ve roamed, this is the first time I’ve ever felt at home.
And it’s all because of her.
Chapter One
Skylar
“Here’s to new beginnings,” I whispered, looking at the beautiful brown cobblestone house into which I was moving. It still seemed too good to be true, like somehow I’d lucked out and my fairy godmother had granted me all my wishes at once.
There was no mistaking I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Another thrill shot through me, overshadowing the slight trepidation that lingered. It had been hard leaving my family and friends behind to move to San Francisco alone—a place where I didn’t know a single soul. I’d almost chickened out at the last moment.
But this had been my dream for as long as I could remember—to brave the world and follow my creative pursuits. To be accepted into one of the country’s most selective art schools, a place where I could study from the best instructors and explore my talents.
I still felt like pinching myself. I was finally here, in Arista, California, getting ready to start my first semester at the Brayson Art Academy. Big things were coming my way—the magic of all the possibilities in store for me filling the air around me.
Snorting, I hefted the large box in my hands, gripping it tighter as I checked the numbers over the door. I was at the right address. It was time to quit daydreaming and get a move on. My car wouldn’t unpack itself, especially if I didn’t keep my head out of the clouds.
I called it one of the perks of an artist.
My mother often teased that it was the result of being easily distracted.
Either way, I couldn’t keep standing outside, staring at the building from the sidewalk all day. The sooner I made the first step up the stairs and knocked on the bright red door, the sooner I could meet my roommate and get a feel for my new home.
All it had taken was one glimpse of Arista as I exited the freeway, earlier, and I’d fallen in love. The city was brimming with inspiration and had me itching to find the boxes with my art supplies and leave the rest of the unpacking for later. From the flowers that lined the narrow streets and the lush greenery in the few parks I’d passed by, to the blue waters of the bay, my mind was already exploding with ideas about what to paint first.
“Are you ever coming in?” An exasperated voice came from the doorway and I inwardly chided myself for getting caught daydreaming. This wasn’t the kind of impression I wanted to make right off the bat. Judging by the impatient expression on the face of the young woman whom I assumed was my new roommate; she definitely wasn’t thrilled with my dawdling.
“Sorry, I guess I got distracted.” I smiled as I carefully rushed up the stairs toward her. “I’m Skylar Blue. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I ignored the brief flash of apprehension when she didn’t shake my offered hand. I guessed some people took a little longer than others to warm up to strangers. It couldn’t be a sign that I’d already managed to annoy her, somehow.
“I know who you are. You’re late,” she retorted, peering around me to the street. �
�And I wouldn’t leave the trunk of your car open, either. We live in a good neighborhood, but I wouldn’t be so trusting.”
Embarrassment jolted through me. “I guess I’m still used to doing things like I did back home,” I stammered, not knowing how to fix the train wreck this first meeting had become. Something told me if I wanted to win Heather Prince over, it was going to be harder than I’d hoped.
“I’ll be inside when you’re ready for the tour.” With no other offer to help, she left me standing on the steps, my face getting hotter by the second and tears threatening to spill.
I refused to let this rattle me. There was no way I’d let her attitude spoil the excitement of the day. So what if she didn’t like me? Just because she was the only one I knew, right now, didn’t mean it would be like that forever. Once I started the Academy, she could be as snarky as she wanted.
“Smile, Skylar,” I murmured softly, shaking off the temporary unease. Don’t let her bother you. With the box resting on my hip, I went back to close the trunk before changing my mind. Maybe it would be better to check out my new room and the house before I started bringing things in.
Keeping my hands free might be a good idea just in case I needed to make a quick escape. Rolling my eyes, I quickly shoved the box back into my VW Bug and locked it. At least I still had my humor to keep me company.
Everything was forgotten once I stepped inside. The exterior hadn’t done the place justice—the open floor plan instantly drew my gaze and I looked around in excitement. The living room was decorated in a simple palette of browns and creams, with a comfortable couch ensemble facing a gorgeous fireplace. My imagination ignited over how beautiful the flames would dance over the walls, casting shadows and depth when lit.
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