He turned his face toward the dark winter sky. “What have I done to you to deserve this? You’re a cruel God!” he cursed. A God who’d shown him what love was and then taken it away in the next instant.

Zane felt the darkness encroach. This time, he didn’t fight it. There was no reason to. He’d lost everything that had ever meant anything to him. Now he’d lost Portia and his only chance at love. The darkness might as well take him. Maybe it had always been his destiny, and he’d simply not wanted to see it.

He was a killer who lived only for revenge, and he would take his revenge.  He would kill Müller now that he knew where to find him.

Chapter Thirty

Her lungs burning from exhaustion, Portia still didn’t slow her run. She had to get away from Zane, from the truth and the pain. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, but she paid them no attention. She couldn’t have stopped them just as she couldn’t have stopped a waterfall from breaking over the crest.

Zane had to be wrong. She couldn’t be Müller’s daughter. A monster’s daughter. The monster who’d done unspeakable things to Zane and the other prisoners. Her mind didn’t want to acknowledge that somebody close to her was capable of such cruelty. Least of all the man who’d sired her, her own father.

She shook her head, strands of her hair catching on her damp cheeks.

Shivering, she remembered the look on Zane’s face, a look she would never forget. Murder had been in his eyes. She’d seen it. Every last bit of the love he’d confessed to her such a short time earlier was gone. All that was left, was hatred, rage, and fury.

And disgust.

She felt bile rise at the recollection. He’d looked at her with disgust at who she was. And his thoughts had been so clearly written on his face. He’d regretted ever having touched her, having made love to her, and having confessed his love.

Her stomach clenched in pain as another wave of sobs made its way north.

He’d loved her. How could he hate her so much now?

Portia fell to her knees, landing in the virgin snow. Zane meant everything to her. He’d promised her so much with his touch and his kisses, his whispered words of love and affection. She’d seen it in his eyes. It was true. He’d laughed with her like she’d never seen him before. He’d been a changed man. She’d done that to him, helped him open his heart.

Now he’d shut her out. Frozen her out.

He’d called her an evil seed. But she’d never thought that he would threaten to kill her because of who she was. Not Zane, not her Zane. Didn’t he remember that he carried her blood inside him, and that she carried his? Didn’t he remember how beautiful their lovemaking had been? How intimate and intense their love was?

How could he throw all this away?

Portia buried her head in her hands, letting the tears flow freely. Nobody would hear her out here in the wilderness. Nobody would ask why she wept as if somebody had died.

He’d cast her out without as much as listening to her, without taking a moment to consider the implications. He hadn’t even had time to think about it. As soon as Zane had seen her father’s picture, his mind had already been made up. She’d never stood a chance.

Portia felt the cold creeping into her bones and flesh, only intensifying her sense of loss. Zane didn’t love her. Had he ever really loved her? If he truly had, how could he have treated her like this? How could he have blasted such iciness at her, such hatred?

And how could she go on now? Her heart ached for the only man who’d ever made her feel anything. Zane was her heart, her love, her life. She’d dreamed of a life with him. Eternal life, a family of her own, a life filled with laughter and love, passion and desire. Just what the last two days had been like.

Her breast ached, the place where his fangs had pierced her skin burning hot like a blacksmith’s fire. Longing to feel him there again spread and added to the pain in her chest. His love had felt like a cocoon. Without it she felt vulnerable and lost.

Nothing mattered anymore. Maybe if she stayed here in the snow and let the elements take care of her, she would forget the pain in her heart. If she were human, she would simply fall asleep in the icy surroundings and never wake again, but her hybrid body didn’t allow this escape. It forced her to continue, to set one foot before the other and keep moving. Its survival instinct was stronger than her own will.

Numb and without direction, she marched through the snow, not caring where her legs carried her. Maybe if she closed her heart, the pain would vanish.

It didn’t.

How did other women deal with this? How did they handle being rejected by the man they love? What did Lauren do?