Page 62 of Craving Carla

“I was there,” I tell them, my voice low with barely contained rage. “I watched as they took turns cutting pieces from his corpse. Skin. Flesh. Organs. They made wallets and lamp shades from his skin. They kept his fingers in jars of vinegar to preserve them. They passed these ‘trophies’ down to their children and grandchildren. Proud mementos of a slave rebellion crushed.”

I gesture at the photos on the wall. “This is the same thing. The same hatred, the same dehumanization, the same trophy-taking. Different targets, same violence. It’s all connected—the treatment of Indigenous peoples, the enslavement of Black bodies, the lynching, the mass incarceration, and now this—the hunting of supernaturals. It’s the same system of power finding new victims.”

“That doesn’t compare,” Damon says, but there’s hesitation in his voice.

I stand from my barstool and get in his face. “Doesn’t it? Stop acting like history isn’t repeating itself. Melanated people built the first civilizations, created mathematics, architecture, medicine—and what did they get in return? Colonization. Enslavement. Genocide. Now supernaturals face the same fate.You said it yourself when Granada fell—it’s the same story, just different characters.”

Damon doesn’t respond because he knows I’m right. He’s seen it too—the pattern repeating across centuries, across continents.

“We’re making progress with the humans,” he finally says, his voice lacking conviction.

I laugh, the sound bitter and cold. “Progress? Tell that to Verde and Petra. Tell that to Carla.”

I take another sip of whiskey, feeling the steady beat of my heart—my heart that beats for Carla, for our children, for the family I never thought I’d have.

“I’m taking my woman and my children out of Wintermoon,” I announce. “They deserve better than this half-life, this constant danger.”

Damon raises an eyebrow, flipping his coin again as it spins through the air. “You’re not taking Carla or any of her children out of Wintermoon. Ever again. Wintermoon is the safest place for them to be now.”

“Who are they calling ‘Daddy’?” I challenge.

Kade laughs, kicking the severed head at her feet. Her bright blue eyes shine with a madness I recognize—the same darkness that lives in me.

“Oh shit, they think you’re their father? Well, that’s a shit show in the making.” She starts counting off on her fingers. “You’re a lunatic, a ruthless killer, a womanizer who fucks everything that moves.”

“I’m a changed man,” I insist.

Kade bursts out laughing. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Poor Carla—she’s got the worst fated mate. You’re going to drive her insane.”

I ignore her because none of that matters now. Yes, I’ve been all those things—ruthless, selfish, insatiable. But Carla has changed everything.

“My quest to conquer as many women as possible ended with Carla,” I say, my voice steady with conviction. “I’m falling for her. I’ve mated with her, sealed our bond. No one can take her from me. I won’t allow it.”

“We need to get this mess cleaned up before the sun rises,” Damon says, clearly done with the conversation.

“Why?” Kade asks. “This looks like a good enough message to leave us the fuck alone.”

Damon glares at her, and she shrugs, unrepentant.

“What you just experienced was the first thirst after your heart awakening,” Damon tells me. “It’s not as bad as the newborn thirst and will die down in a couple of days. You are to stay on Wintermoon until it does.”

I flash him a bloody smile. “Fine. I’ll go find a mop.” I step closer, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “But after that, I am taking Carla and the children—my children—out of Wintermoon. They aren’t staying.”

Damon flips his coin one more time, catching it smoothly. He gives me a smug look. “We shall see.”

Kade groans dramatically. “I’m going to find some gloves.” She bumps past me, scowling. “You could have at least saved me someone to feed on if I’m going to be stuck cleaning up human remains.”

Damon and I stare each other down for a long moment. I see the vampire who turned me, who taught me to survive, who stood with me on that hillside as Granada burned. But I also see the man who told me to do nothing, to watch as my civilization was destroyed. I won’t make that mistake again. I won’t stand by while Carla and our children are at risk.

I turn away, wiping blood from my face with the back of my hand, not giving a shit what Damon says. Carla belongs to me, and I’ll kill anyone who tries to stop me from giving her and our children the life they deserve.

Even if that means I have to kill Damon, my sire.

I move toward the back of the bar to look for cleaning supplies, my mind already racing ahead. To Carla, to our children, to the life we’ll build together—far from this place, far from the hatred and danger that lurks here.

My pulse is steady, a constant reminder of my purpose now. I’m no longer the vampire who watched Granada burn, who drifted through centuries without direction. I’m Carla’s fated mate, father to her children, protector of our family.

And I’ll tear apart anyone who threatens what’s mine.

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