Fitz and Eve were meant for each other.
In another time they would have been…
There’s no use in dwelling upon the could have beens or the should have beens. They are all gone, burnt up and laid low.
This was not another time. It was this time; the hard present, the cruel reality.
Fitz was bitten and then he rose. Eve ran and then she mourned.
Don’t cry yet, not yet, dear children. But for tragedy, you say, this should be enough.
Ah, yes but you forget: we cannot hide behind the should have beens and the could have beens. This is now.
Fate would not be cheated, Fitz and Eve were meant for each other.
After all, “When the gods give evil…”
Fitz and Eve found each other. He held her in his arms again. She sunk her nails in his back like she had so many times before. He bent to kiss her neck and breathed in her perfume. His teeth rested upon her skin.
And he stopped.
The thick glaze across his eyes seemed to brighten slightly, if only slightly.
And he waited. He waited.
Then he caught the scent of flesh beneath the sweet fragrance and bit down.