Page 51 of Cursed Lifeline

“Viktor,” Verena breathes out in shock. “Felix has it handled.”

Viktor cocks his head to the side and studies me with ill intent. A shiver rushes up my spine. I start to take a step back. A shocked gasp escapes my lips as I step right into the arms of one of the militia. I try to shrug him off, but he gives me a wicked smile, tightens his grip, and forces me a step toward Viktor.

Verena yells for them to stop, warns against their actions, and screams for Felix. She shouts something about a blessing and a curse. But before she can say anything more, she’s suddenly silenced by a hard wack to her head with a sharp rock.

My focus sharpens on Viktor. I want to scream. To yell for help. To tell him he won’t get away with whatever violent end he’s planning. But I’m stopped by a force I’ve never experienced before. Never been trained against before. A woman steps up to Viktor’s side and I immediately sense the control is coming from her.Raven black hair and emerald eyes, she stands in a jet black floor-length dress and grins wickedly.

Viktor beckons me closer with a wave of his hand, and to my misfortunate, my body moves on its own accord and submits. I whimper and struggle against the force, but it’s no use. All too soon, I find myself toe-to-toe with the man with black eyes and try my best to swallow back my fear.

“Mouthwatering,” Viktor whispers sinisterly.

“Exquisite,” he smiles enviously.

Leaning in and brushing my hair off my shoulder, he breathes me in, and I immediately feel sick. My eyes search out the woman with raven hair, but she’s gone. I try to bite back, try to tell him to stop, but my words won’t come, and all I manage is a sad whimper as he trails his hand across my shoulder, spins me around quickly, and pulls my head harshly to the right side.

“Delicious,” he groans as he sinks his teeth into my neck just as the doors to the church fly open and Felix emerges from the cathedral.

His loud roar echoes through my ears, stops my heart, and steals my breath as he takes in the fated sight. His words from moments ago haunt me as I’m quickly pulled towards death.

The way we feel for each other is a curse, passed down from my mother and my father.

My eyes start to flutter close. My head grows dizzy. My body feels numb. Drained. Empty. The back of my neck starts to burn. Felix rushes towards me just as the rest of the coven aiding him inside the church rush out of Notre Dame and follow him down the cathedral steps.

But Viktor’s militia holds him back. Felix fights with the force of forty thousand men, but somehow, they keep him from reaching me. From rescuing me. From saving me. He yells, shouts, threatens, and screams for them to stop. His desperate pleas haunt the night as the heart-shaped spot at the back of my hairline burns hotter.

Maybe Felix was right. Maybe Ophelia’s curse is also my own. I had no control over my mind or my body. Not when it came to him.

Was that the way it was for his mother?

His father?

Ophelia’s last words echo through my mind as my knees give out, my body drains completely, the back of my neck ignites, anddarkness consumes me.

And will he not come again?

... No, no, he is dead;

Go to thy deathbed;

He never will come again.

... He is gone, he is gone,

And we cast away moan.

God 'a'mercy on his soul!

Eighteen

Felix

song: vampire den | Trevor Morris & Jack Wall

“Mother!”I yell as I angrily push through the doors to the throne room and quicken my pace. My hands clench angrily at my sides. I grip the weapon in my right hand tightly as I stalk through the dark concrete corridor with heated steps and sharp, violent breaths. The shadows play with my eyes. Horrors taunt me in the darkness. But their terror is nothing compared to what I just witnessed. Nothing compares to watching the person you love more than yourself perish at the hands of your kind.

Anger consumes me. Rage threatens to end me. Sadness, grief, despair, heartache, guilt, shame, regret – they all devour me as I war with my conscience, and my heart screams for answers.

My mother looks up from her majestic pedestal as I realize I’m interrupting a private conversation. The throne room is empty, except for Her Majesty and one other woman I’ve never met before. Normally, I’d have more respect and more regard for my mother’s position of power. Though right now, after teleporting here straight from the streets of Paris, I couldn’t care less about the rules or customs of my mother’s court.

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