As they carried her into another room Ásgeirr looked at her, his eyes grew colder and he hissed, "Do not talk to me about family. The day our father betrayed us, by naming the youngest, useless son as head of the clan, your father ceased to be family."

Rage cleaved through her at their betrayal. Beatrix no longer wanted to go quietly. As they manoeuvred her over the huge T-shaped sacrificial altar, she ripped herself free, jumped to the floor and barred her fangs at them.

Using her fangs she slashed her hands open and two cinquedea blood blades formed. Knowing she had no chance of taking both her uncles' out but was more than happy to die trying.

Ásgeirr was the Commander-General of the Guard and a force to be reckoned with, not that Thorsen would be any easier, yet she lunged at Thorsen. Beatrix ran toward him at full force and was on top of Thorsen before he even had time to react. She plunged her fat sword into his stomach and held the other to his neck.

Ásgeirr had already formed his twin scimitar blood swords, and he held the beautiful sleek blades in a scissor position at her neck.

"Uncle Ásgeirr, I swear that I will take off Uncle Thorsen's head before you even cut halfway through my neck," Beatrix ground out.

Ásgeirr let out a thrilled and lively laugh. "That sounds like a challenge."

"That is enough!" A voice snarled by the door-way. Everyone's heads turned and watched Lord Dumah walk into the room. "It is a good thing I planned for something like this."

He snapped his fingers and Damien dragged Alex's limp body into the room. When Beatrix saw the anti-dark fae dagger sticking out of his chest, a sobbing scream ripped through her.

"You let him go! Do it now or by the gods I swear I will kill your lackey, Dumah."

Lord Dumah walked toward her, a slow evil smile spread across his face. "I have no doubt you would kill Thorsen. But then again, you would not want to see your beloved's head separated from his shoulders, would you? We need a life; no one said it had to be yours. And he is ready and waiting."

Her eyes darted back to Alex and Damien as fear for Alex's life consumed her. "No," she whispered.

Lord Dumah ignored her. "Damien, cut off Alexander's head."

Damien had a cold smirk plastered on his face as he raised his sword in the air.

She glared at him as tears slid down her face. "Traitor," she breathed letting her blood blades dissolve back into her hands and then screamed, "You cannot do this. Please take me instead, just spare him. I am begging you, I will do anything you want just do not hurt him."

Lord Dumah snapped his fingers and Damien froze. "Damien, wait." He looked at Beatrix. "If you try anything Alexander will die."

"Why, Damien?" she screamed. "You were our friend, why have you betrayed us?"

Damien glowered at her with stony eyes. "You were always so wrapped up in yourself. Too selfish to even notice how much you hurt me, Beatrix. It was always supposed to be you and me together not Alex. He never deserved you. He never loved you as much as I did."

She spat on the floor at his words. "And you call what you are doing right now love, Damien? Don't you dare try to turn this on me, what you are doing makes you the selfish one. Damn you to hell, you bastard."

"Children, enough with the squabbling. We have more pressing matters at hand. Beatrix, I want you to promise that you will not put up any more of a fight. Or Alexander dies," Lord Dumah said.

Her bottom lip trembled. "If you swear on your life and to the gods, you will not hurt him even after I am gone. Then I will willingly give my life for his." Alex meant more to her than anything in this world and as long as he was safe nothing else mattered. She could endure sacrificing her life because it meant he would be safe.

This made the smile on Lord Dumah's face grow even bigger. "Very well child, you have a deal." He paused and she could see something flash in his eyes. "In fact, this will work out perfectly. Ásgeirr, put her on the table."

Ásgeirr retracted his swords back into his hands and then grabbed Beatrix hulling her off of Thorsen. He picked her up and placed her on the wooden T-shaped table. Making sure her arms were stretched across the horizontal part of the T.

Thorsen got to his feet the anger flowed out of him in waves. He stormed over to her and smacked her hard; the slapping sound resonated off the sandstone walls of the room. "If you were not already going to die, I would rip your pretty little heart right out of your chest for that stunt."

Lord Dumah laughed and placed a hand on Thorsen's shoulder. "Easy my friend. This little hiccup has given me a perfect idea."

He led Thorsen away from the table then said, "Damien, pull the sword out of Alexander but don't give him any blood just yet." He looked at Beatrix. "There, I am a man of my word. Now Damien, after she dies I want you to give Alexander your blood. When he wakes up, you will tell him Beatrix's death was Thorsen's doing."

"What would be the benefit of telling the whelp that?" Thorsen asked with scepticism.

"Think about the bigger picture. We know the boy will want revenge and if we focus all of his attention on you, he won't care about Beatrix's reincarnation." Lord Dumah turned to Damien. "You will tell him about my involvement. Make sure he knows that Thorsen and I plan on resurrecting Beatrix. But you will not mention Ásgeirr. From today on, Damien, you will be Alexander's best friend. You will make him believe that you want revenge for Beatrix's death just as much as he does. And you will make sure he never meets her reincarnation. You will also report all of your movements to Thorsen and me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my Lord," Damien replied in a cold voice.

"Good." Lord Dumah said then turned back toward Beatrix. "Finish tying her down. It is almost midnight and we are running behind schedule."

A figure clad head to toe in fine black leather garb and shiny black riding boots with a mask pulled up over his face so that only his eyes showed, took over securing Beatrix to the table as Ásgeirr joined the others. He strapped her legs down first, fastening the leather straps tight, and then worked his way up her body. As he tied her right wrist, he stared into her silver eyes. His striking silver-blue eyes struck her as familiar but it was not until he winked at her that she recognised him. It was Valac and the fact that he kept his word and would be with her until the end made her smile.

"Ásgeirr is your man going to do the honours or are you?" Lord Dumah asked.

Before Ásgeirr could answer Thorsen cut in, "Master," he said softly. "If I am going tobe named as the one who kills her I think it should fall to me."

"As you wish, Thorsen," Lord Dumah replied handing him a cobalt blue dagger that was curved like flames and then started chanting.

Beatrix's whole body was glued down to the table as if a great weight was lying on top of her. She kept her eyes firmly on Alex as Thorsen approached her with the blade.

He stood over her with the dagger to her neck; it was razor sharp and bit into her skin yet she felt no pain. All she could focus on was her beloved and how much she loved him.

The clock struck twelve, and she said, "I will always love you Alex," as Thorsen slit her throat open.

He worked his way down her body slicing open her wrists, her stomach and her ankles. The blood rushed out of her and into the groves of the table collecting in glass bottles under the altar. Lord Dumah stood over her holding his hands above her he chanted louder. Her body grew weightless, and it felt as her essence was being pulled away from her flesh into his hands. Darkness engulfed everything and then she saw a beautiful light. It was warm and inviting and despite wanting to go into the light she knew she couldn't. Her love for Alex held her soul there, in the void between life and death, preventing it from going beyond the veil.

Julia's eyes blinked open as she regained consciousness. The visions were jumbled and she couldn't make heads or tails of what had just zipped through her mind at lightning speed. It was too much information all at once for her to process. Her head throbbed with such intensity that she thought it would split open. She knew only seconds had passed and yet it felt like hours. As she looked at Thorsen, she cracked under the pressure and screamed, "Get out! Both of you; get out," and started to sob.

Thorsen complied with her wishes; leaving her to question everything about herself and her existence.

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