Beloved Forever Read Online Free PDF Page B

couldn’t. Emma dared to hope he would leave, having had his revenge for her supposed sins. While she waited to see what he would do, she grew increasingly lightheaded. Even if he left now, she doubted she would survive the night. The keep’s physician would no doubt bleed her, while priests prayed for her, easing her passage to the next world. William would return home in a fortnight to find her dead. He truly loved her, and she dared not consider how he would take the news.
    Emma decided her death would have no witnesses besides Nicholas when she felt the bed dip upon his return. His would be the last face she saw before death claimed her. She wouldn’t find comfort or solace in his harsh visage. His cold rage wouldn’t allow him to understand her actions.
    A breath escaped her when he pulled her into his arms. She lay as still as a statue, unable to return his embrace as her life force ebbed.
    “I forgive you, my beloved,” he whispered into her ear. “You will join me in eternity.” He leaned down to brush a kiss against her lips. “You are even more beautiful near death.”
    She was able to voice a small whimper when his mouth returned to her neck. Once again, his fangs claimed her vein as his loins had so recently taken her innocence. Rather than pain, this time warmth surged through her. Was it the flush of death, or something more?
    Minutes later, when he lifted his head, she felt nothing at all, except cold and numb. When he slashed open his wrist with his own fang, she wasn’t repulsed. Not even when he held the dripping wound to her opened mouth and let the blood flow inside did she try to resist. It oozed down her throat and lodged like a small ball of ice in her stomach.
    “Soon, you will become. We will rest a while, until your death. Then I shall take you from here.”
    Her unblinking eyes remained fastened on the ceiling as she felt unconsciousness slip over her.
     
    “Open your eyes, Emily.”
    She heard the summons from far away. The voice was so compelling that she struggled to cast off the dream holding her hostage. For a moment, she was frozen somewhere between Emily and Emma. Slowly, his voice grew stronger and penetrated the dream state, enabling her to blink open bewildered blue eyes.
    “You must drink this to speed up the change.”
    The man from the funhouse—Nicholas in her dream—hovered over her, holding a crystal goblet filled with dark-red liquid, which he pressed to her lips. She tried to turn her head, but found herself still unable to move. Once more, coppery fluid flowed into her mouth, but this time she choked as it dripped down her throat.
    “Drink it all.”
    “Perhaps it is too much, master?”
    “I know what she needs. Leave us, Tremont.”
    Emily’s chest was heavy when she tried to draw in a deep breath, with no success. It was as if she wasn’t breathing at all. To her relief, he withdrew the goblet. His face moved closer to hers, and she could see the silver rings around his pupils, the only color in his eyes aside from black. Stubble was forming on his chin, indicating he had been too busy to shave.
    “Sleep now, my beloved. Dream of other times and other lives.” He lifted her hand and kissed the palm. “Dream of me.”
    As if obeying his command, her eyes closed as though they had tiny weights tied to them. She returned to the dream of Emma.

* * * * *
    Emma woke early in the morning and turned her head. She realized she could now move and scooted away from Nicholas’s still form. He seemed to be in a death-like state. His chest barely rose and fell, with long seconds between each shallow breath. He would have looked dead, but his skin wasn’t pale enough—because of her blood?
    Moving carefully, she slid from the bed and examined herself in the cheval looking glass. Dried blood smeared her pure white skin in several places. Heavy purple shadows bruised her eyes. Crimson streaks had dried on her lips, and she hissed with disgust when the stench and taste