Free Immortally Theirs by Ann Cory Page A

would be like day without night. She’d been so happy and never expected it would end.
    Shayla had never wished for time to move slower.
    Her thoughts remained jumbled as she ascended the steps. At the top of the stairs, she sighed and strolled toward her room, bypassing the other rooms along the way. Six rooms to be exact, not including the study—a room she avoided. The moment she’d entered the room, she feared being in there alone. A large eerie portrait of a man that hung on the far wall disturbed her. More than once, she removed it and stored it in the closet only to find the portrait put back the next day. And not by her hands. Since then she didn’t bother to go back in. It wasn’t worth the extra gray hairs.
    She paused at her bedroom door and took a deep breath. Fatigue had set in early tonight, at least in her body. Her mind wouldn’t stop racing. It would feel good to lie down, though she didn’t expect to sleep. Not with such an important decision weighing heavy on her. She’d chosen the largest room at the end for the rich scarlet drapes of the large four-poster canopy bed, a place where she felt like a queen. They matched the scarlet curtains bordering the large picture windows that overlooked a stone courtyard with its many statues and a labyrinth of hedges. Hardly any flowers grew though, and those that did promptly died. Everything was a stone gray. Much like her thoughts this evening.
    Shayla opened the door and at once, a smile curved her lips. A warm and inviting fire blazed in the fireplace. Someone had read her mind, and she guessed it was Armand. He had a flair for the dramatics and paid particular attention to the smallest details.
    She leaned against the bedpost and stared into the flames, watching them flicker and sway. On rainy nights, Armand would read her romantic overtures from books and poems. Sometimes he’d act out the part of the anguished lover who ravaged the unsuspecting woman. She enjoyed it and the role-playing. He promised to treat her like a queen if the one chosen. He promised to give her everything she could ever want. Bastian offered the same in his own modest way.
    While Armand liked sex to be artistic and savored her body with his tongue, Bastian was all about powerful strokes with his cock and taking command. Together they offered the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. Shayla often wondered what it would be like for them to drink her blood during the height of an orgasm. They never tried and she wondered if there was something wrong with her. Maybe someday she’d ask.
    But for all the wonderful things they did, they didn’t always understand her. Being vampires, they had the luxury of knowing the future that lay in front of them, where she was clueless. They didn’t bother with regrets or agonize over the past of each day, trying to figure out ways to fix what they lacked control over. Though the thought of being immortal excited her, the thought of choosing which one she’d spend an eternity with didn’t. If she could just have a sign. A single glimpse into the future to show her which path to take.
    She would have to come to a decision by the stroke of
midnight
tomorrow night, or they would both leave and never return. Once again, she’d be alone. The house would drive her mad, and she feared it would be her undoing.
    Shayla sensed a presence and turned.
    Armand stood tall in his five foot nine, half-naked glory. Dark hair hung down to an inch above his shoulders with a jagged part at the side. She loved to stare into his deep green eyes that smoldered when he climaxed. Somewhat slender, his body was an equal mix of sinewy muscle and smooth planes. He considered himself a student of Shakespeare and Keats. Favored plays, poetry and fine literature. He loved to be in love and to express love with words. Love was art in his opinion. Her gaze followed the muscles of his abs downward to where his skintight black pants outlined his noticeable erection.
    “Evening,