The world would be better tomorrow, thanks to Tavia's courage and that of his brethren. There was so much to look forward to - so much hope for a better world for all. He didn't want to imagine that world without Tavia in it. He refused to think it could be possible. He would nurse her back to health, even if it took locking himself up with her until the fever of her hunger finally passed. If it passed.
He would gladly trade his life for hers right now, if he could turn back the clock and take the deadly Crimson in her place.
"No," she murmured, her voice thick around her fangs. Even through the ravages of the drug, she must have felt the depth of his emotion as he held her in a careful, despairing embrace. She gazed up at him, her feral amber eyes sad and moist with welling tears. "Leave me here, Chase. Go with your brethren."
"No." He shook his head once, then again, more fiercely. "No. I'm never leaving you. Not ever again." His voice cracked, too full with the emotion he felt for this woman. His woman. His mate. "I love you. You are mine. In my heart, I knew that from the beginning. You are my beloved, Tavia, my only one."
"Chase," she whispered. Her tears spilled over now, streaking down her cheeks and chin. "I love - "
A convulsion racked her as the Crimson burrowed deeper into her blood. Chase felt it, hot and seething in his own veins. And he felt her love. Running under the current of the thirst that was savaging her body, Chase felt the strong and steady beat of her heart ... and it was filled with love for him.
It was all he needed to know.
It was all the hope he required.
She would get better.
She would heal.
And she was his, forever.
He gathered her up into his arms. He kissed her parched mouth, then rose with her and carried her out of the house, away from the carnage, and back to the warriors who were his kin. "I'm taking you home now, Tavia."
EPILOGUE
One Year Later. New Year's Day.
CHASE MADE GOOD on his promise to be at her side until she was well again. Tavia had felt his strength holding her, protecting her, anchoring her during the time her body struggled to come back from the edge of a dark abyss.
Tess had helped heal the organs that were ravaged by the Crimson's poison, but there was little her unique Breedmate talent could do for the hunger that had gnawed at Tavia, chewing away at her will and sanity hour by hour, day by day ... week by week.
For that they'd had to turn to an unlikely source: Dragos. Or, rather, his Minion doctor's treatment formulas and procedural logs, documenting the twenty-seven-year-long suppression of Tavia's Breed nature. They'd used Dr. Lewis's medical treatments to curb her blood hunger and quiet her body's fever so she could purge the Bloodlust from her system and rest the months required for her to mend.
Ironic, and yet somehow fitting, that the same insidious practice that had been a betrayal of her trust from the moment of her birth had, in the end, been the very thing that saved her. That, along with Chase's love.
It flowed through her now, where he stood behind her, sheltering her in the circle of his arms. His heartbeat echoed in her own blood, steady and strong, whole and hale. She nestled deeper into his embrace, sighing softly as his warm breath skated along the side of her neck. "Have I told you today how much I love you?" he murmured, low, private words meant only for her.
"You have," she whispered, smiling at the kiss that settled briefly below her ear and sent a tingle of heat racing through her. "But I don't think I'll ever tire of hearing it." His answering growl vibrated against her spine like a sensual purr. "Good thing we've got forever. We've already missed too many days."
Six full months - that's how long it had taken for Tavia to make the journey back to the living. It hadn't been easy, but it was time and agony she scarcely recalled now; a rare, merciful reprieve from the power of her faultless memory. But through their blood bond, Chase had weathered it all. It had to have been hell for him, finding the strength to combat his own affliction while experiencing hers as well, but somehow he'd done it.
With the help of his brethren of the Order, his family.
And now her family too.
Tavia glanced at the people gathered with them tonight in the dimly lit observation room in the General Assembly Hall of the United Nations headquarters in Manhattan as Lucan prepared to address the delegation.
All of the Order and their families were there. Seated in the front row of the private balcony suite were Gabrielle, Savannah and Gideon, Dante and Tess with little year-old Xander Raphael. Tegan held his infant son in the cradle of his muscled arm, his other wrapped lovingly around Elise. Rio and Dylan, Kade, Alex, Brock, and Jenna stood by the large glass window beside Niko, Renata, and Mira, peering down with Andreas and Claire Reichen, Hunter, Corinne and Nathan, Lazaro and Kellan Archer, at the crowd of eighteen hundred delegates from all over the world who occupied the seats below.
The assembly was filled to capacity, buzzing with excitement and anticipation. Because, today, as night fell over North America on a crisp, clear January 1st, the 193-nation coalition had amended its charter to admit its newest member:
The nation of the Breed.
Chase's heart beat with an anticipation Tavia shared as Lucan moved toward the microphone to accept the evening's honor. Alongside him were the president of the United States and several other world leaders.
"My name is Lucan Thorne." His piercing gaze panned the faces of the delegation, all of whom stared at this formidable male in his conservative black suit, which did little to soften the air of dark power that radiated from him. "I stand here before you tonight, addressing the world on behalf of my kith and kin ... my long-lived race, called the Breed."