'We are all pawns in this bloody war. Death drops with a beat harder than thunder, creating a melody so vicious it cries.'

***

A warm and tingling sensation drops from my scalp to my toes. The impact of strong, harrowed emotions makes my heart beat an odd rhythm that increased to a point that hurt. I feel like I'm floating in mid-air, ready to drop and crash at his feet. With the knife in my hand, my knuckles turn white at the intensity of my grip.

The need to kill him and fulfill my despicable duty forces itself to overtake my thoughts and feelings. My hands shake with a want to sink it deep into his chest, but my heart is begging me to drop it. I bite down and don't even mind the way my fangs have punctured my bottom lip, letting the blood drip down my chin.

Valentine gives me a look that sums up all of my emotions. He looks to be mirroring the expression on my face - confused, scared and concerned. The closer he gets, the harder I push myself into the wall. I need to get away from him. I need to be as far away as possible.

"Saphira," his voice, ever so soft caresses my ears and skin like silk.

"No." I shake my head back and forth. I feel something warm and wet drip down my cheeks. I wipe my face with my free hand and notice the rosy liquid that is now spread on my palm. Tears, those are tears mixed with blood. I'm crying. My body can't take all there urges at once.

'Finish him,' a cruel and maleficent voice speaks from the dagger.

The war within me has me wanting to stick the knife in my own heart. The fight for control is making my head throb and my body ache. I can end it in just one strike.

"It's alright," Valentine says, again, in a low and soothing tone.

He glides closer and my vision blurs from the tears that escaped my eyes. His body is only inches from me, with the dagger pointed right at his heart. The warmth that circulated between us gave me the slightest reassurance that it will all be alright. My hand rests on his chest and I almost break. Although his heart no longer beats, you can feel his heart ache. We both know what is to happen next.

"Saphira, love. Look at me."

I refuse and keep my head low, my anger almost making me dig the knife into his flesh. After a few seconds he lifts my chin with his finger and forces me to look into his burning eyes. He speaks to me with silent whispers and strokes my face with his warm and strong hands.

"I don't want to hurt you," I say. I can't believe what I'm saying. The irony of it all is thick enough to doubt. We met when I was hired to kill him, when I had no heart for vampires or much of the underworld.

"You can't hurt me," he replies with tenderness.

The knife sinks into his bare chest from the pressure and he doesn't do anything, not even flinch. I, on the other hand, fear this moment will be the last we have together.

"Valentine, I can't stop it, you need to get yourself away from me, please," I beg.

He lifts his hand and places it on my cheek caressing my lip with his thumb. "This is the only way she will stop, she needs to know that I'm dead. Her control over you will cease once this is done."

My eyes widen and the agony worsens. "You've known, all this time, that I was destined to end you?"

He gives me a broken and breathy, "Yes." His eyes burn me with a fever that radiates through my body inside and out. "I've always known." His jaw tightens like a rock. The blade sinks deeper into his chest and he groans in pain. I don't know how to explain, but I can feel the pain in my own chest, not from the dagger but from his words. His hand snakes up my arm and accompanies the hand holding the glistening weapon.

"Do you trust me?" There it is, the four words that come before a tragedy. A phrase that gives an individual the rights to do something contrary to ones desire. It will end everything.

"I don't know," I answer with a shaking voice. He squeezes my hand for reassurance and I exhale the breath I didn't know I was holding. Reluctantly and agonizingly slow, I nod with approval and become numb.

He nods in return. "Whatever happens, you know what to do and who to turn to. Don't trust blindly, not all vampires are against Datura, even the least likely are her followers. I don't know how much we have, but we have to move quickly."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He doesn't answer me, instead, Valentine presses his lips against mine in a feral need that makes my head spin. It was almost enough to take me out of Datura's control. Our tongues dance to the tune of our syncing breaths. The kiss itself is aggressive nature but passionate in spirit, it's something we both need.

"Don't miss me too much," he whispers against my lips. I pull away to look at him but Valentine does the opposite. He pushes his body into the length of the blade with one hard jerk. I suppress a scream as I watch his body convulse then fall limply to the ground.

Blood trickles like rain from the hole I created in his chest, dripping to the hardwood floor and pooling around his body. The dagger sticks out unevenly, being pushed out by his healing muscles and flesh. Bending my knees, I kneel beside him to pull the nasty weapon out. I try to avoid touching his blood but don't succeed, my hands are now coated with his thick and sweet blood.

"Valentine?" I call out. His eyes, now closed, stay unmoving. I hover over him to pull the dagger out. With enough pressure and force I pull it out, smoothly. The weapon, smothered in dark liquid, clatters loudly against the wood. The blood continues to flow from the torn flesh and I begin to panic. "Damn it, Valentine," I say with a sob. "Don't do this to me."

Bending over, I run my tongue over the open wound for it to close faster and hopefully save him. The blood, which is sweet, tastes like the most bitter poison in my mouth. I shake him and tap his cheek - still, nothing.

A sorrowful feeling churns in my stomach and chest. Although he was an absolute menace, I was just beginning to like him. I could see myself being with someone like him - unlike others, he cares. But it's all over now, he's gone.

The door bursts open my eyes flick over to the dagger that laid haphazardly on the floor beside my leg. "Oh, bloody hell," a feminine voice calls out.

Without announcement or alarm, Amaryllis runs over to us and kneels down herself. Instead of attending to Valentine her hands make her way to me, as if I am the one in grave danger.

"Saphira," Her powerful voice snaps me out of a deep trance. Her violet eyes are glowing with music strength and "We don't have much time. Datura will take you back to her presence and have you report your accomplishment. When she does, she will release the constraints she has on you."

"How do you know all of this?" As I ask, a dark and black fog starts surrounding me. What is this? The cold shadow touches my skin and I shiver.

She forms her lips in a tight line. "Not all opposites complement one another," she says grimly. "Same goes for my sister and I. She was always the nasty one."

I blink quickly at the strange fact. "You're Datura's sister - the good one." I state, reiterating what she told me upon our first meeting. Ari nods quickly. "What happens she she releases her hold?"

"You'll be at your most vulnerable state and more memories may return, even ones that will render you confounded. Here," she says while securing a necklace over my head. A small crystal pendant rested on a thin, silver chain. The fog, now, is surrounding me like a blanket, almost covering my whole body. "This is a special charm that will take you back when you think its time. Bring the dagger, you need to gain her trust and she must not know that you are a vampire."

I blink, once, in confusion. It still has not distilled in my mind, all that has happened. "And Valentine?"

Her violet eyes flip over to his face and she frowns. "I'm afraid this is what he wanted. We need to move forward without him."

I squeeze my fists to dig my nails in my palms to stop the emotions from reacting. "Thank you, Ari."

She shakes her head and gives me a feeble smile. "Come back and thank me later."

I nod once before the darkness consumes me and I'm no longer there. I close my eyes and clutch the dagger tightly in my hand. The burning image of a dead Valentine scorches my vision and the scene replays in my mind with no filter. He perished in my arms, losing the last bit of light in hi eyes. My first desire to leave this world may be fulfilled sooner than expected, now that he's gone. Once this war is over, I can rest.

A humming noise starts to play - the same sound I heard at the masquerade all those days ago. It isn't an annoying sound but one that let's your mind loose at free. As I feel solid ground under me, I stand. The darkness dilates and I am temporarily shocked by the violet irises looking down at me in a blank stare.

Datura stands before me with her scrutinizing expression and evil flair. The aura that seeps out of her is dark and distasteful. Slowly and spitefully her lips curve into a devilish smile. "Welcome home, Saphira."

I growl inwardly, wanting to stick the danger deep in her chest to let her bleed. Her blood is probably darker than ebony. I stare back with no emotion, no remorse and no interest - she's nothing but a talking viper.

"Datura," I acknowledge, keeping me eyes on her, but noticing the three other Fae's with my peripherals. They watched and waited.

She glances down at my blood-ridden clothes and smirks. "You have news for me?" The words chime from her lips, but to my ears, they sound like nails dragging against a chalkboard. Maybe, if she actually showed up in my life prior to this, I would have supported her, but I am glad she didn't.

I lift the dagger and let it rest on my palms, displaying the blood and gore for her eyes to feast upon. "It is finished," I say in a tone that can be mistaken for anarchy. Datura gives me a proud smile and I return it with a despicable smirk of my own. Gain her trust, and we win.

"Well done." Her eyes turn a pitch black color and black smoke rises from beneath her. "Now the era of darkness has begun, with the vampires out of the way, it's only matter of time until the rest give way. The immortals will be no more."

Datura commands a Fae, one with pointed ears and stiff posture. He is beautiful, nonetheless, skin like porcelain but eyes beady like crows. The stone cold woman whispers something in his ear and my ears perk with curiosity. What is she planning to do?

She walks forward and gestures for me to follow. Without hesitation, I submit and trail beside her. We are in a domed room, with walls made of burnt trees and purple flowers. All light is dimmed and a delicious smell of various fragrances linger in the air. The ominous ambiance and Gothic theme mix into a beautiful work of art with the dead forest floor as its canvas.

"Let's get you out of those clothes, we can't have the future Queen look like that," she looks at my clothes in disdain and I grimace. "It simply won't do. Come, I have the perfect dress."

We go through an opening covered by a thin veil. A large round bed sits in the middle of throom with black sheets that flow endlessly. For some reason, I feel like I should not be here. Suddenly, I became conscious about the necklace that hangs on my neck. It feels heavy, as if it wants to tell me something.

Datura glides over to her closet with a determined look on her face. "Did you see his reaction when he found out about our plan? I bet he was heartbroken."

Her words are like ice. Each one taking a slow and painful stab at my heart. "He seemed to be filled with surprise and regret," I mumble while touching my lips, remembering our last kiss.

She throws her head back in a satisfied smirk. "Oh, I've been waiting for this moment my entire life."

The ravenous witch returns by my side with a flowing Marsala dress clasped under her sharp claws. The dress looks to be modern but with a unique Victorian twist. She hands it to me but takes my arm under her long willowy fingers. The hairs on my arm rise from her cold skin and as much as I want to pry them away, I stay still. I can't have her know what I am and whose side I belong. Her eyes are filled with doubt and suspicion. "Two hundred years has charmed you with bountiful youth. Let me look at you."

She lifts my chin with her polished fingers and studies my face, turning it from side to side. "He must have worshipped the ground you walked on. I would give anything to have been the one to plunge the damn dagger in his heart. His family has caused me much pain and anguish."

I can feel the wrath from her eyes never leave. It's then I learn that she will never stop, her goal was I take down a large barrier that is keeping her from doing the real damage. Little does she now that I have replaced that position with an equal force. "He's gone now and I can assure you of that. Valentine lies in the depths of the dust around him."

"And it will be that way forever," she vows and narrows her eyes. "Go, now. Put this on. There's someone I want you to meet."

I take the dress from her hands and proceed into the attached bathroom to change into it. I run my hands under warm water to remove the dried and caked blood on my skin. I rest my hands on the marble counter and take a deep and much needed breath to let everything sink in. I'm in Acacia and Valentine is dead, how the hell did I let this happen? I stare at my reflection and frown. Should I take this time to return using the necklace? No, that would be counterproductive.

As I slip into the dress the necklace grows heavier. What is it trying to tell me? The fabric is smooth and comfortable and fit me well, as if it was designed for I, and I alone. It hugs my body perfectly and wraps around my bust in an intricate pattern accentuating my breasts. The fabric falls around me in a heap and I groan at how heavy it is around my body - another obstacle in my plight to thwart Datura's plans.

I squeeze my fists tightly before heading back out. With my mind back from it's it's shocked state, I now realize how cold the ground is and the rough texture of a burnt Forrest floor. My pitiful Creator is not in sight so I slowly move into the supposed throne room.

"Ah, there you are." Surprisingly, her voice echoes. I slightly cringe at how perfectly pitched it is.

"This dress is beautiful, thank you," I manage to say and not lie. It is beautiful and it's growing on me by the minute, despite it's weight.

"A dress fit for a Queen. It suits you."

"Who is it that I have yet to meet?" I ask a little too eagerly.

She smiles and leads to the large royal throne at the head of the room. I have I squint my eyes ate the brightness of the throne, it's a rare contrast of stark ivory against ebony.

"Someone very special. He's the one that made this all happen. Sit, darling, this throne rightfully yours." I hesitate for a moment but take the seat when she insists and suddenly I feel tired and weak. My body withers as she looks down a me with an identifiable smirk.

"Comfortable?" She directly faces me and mocks. I try to reach out to her but my arms feel gelatinous and my eyelids feel heavy. I groan. I want to rip her face off.

"Very," I squeeze through my teeth, not letting her see the effect of her control wearing off. Ari warned me of this - becoming weak and losing all sense.

She turns her back to me to face the large space before us. I can hear light but strong footsteps escalate towards the throne room. Curious, I crane my head toward the sound and wait eagerly for a body to show from the shadows. After waiting impatiently, a tall man with broad shoulders emerges from the darkness and stops meters away from where I'm sitting. His dark eyes lock with mine and bumps rise on my arms and neck.

"Saphira, have you met Lucius, my husband?"

***

Please, don't kill me.
Don't stop reading, more will be revealed in the coming chapters. You will also discover Valentines fate and plan.