He loosened his hold on her in case she wanted to step away, but she didn’t. She didn’t leave.
“Then perhaps you are not the only one,” she said. “Perhaps we are both monsters, because I am glad that he is gone.”
He breathed out a sigh of relief, his eyes searching her face in wonder as if he was seeing her for the first time, just as she had now truly seen him. She had not run away like he’d been so scared of; she had stayed, and she had accepted him.
Xander didn’t need to read her mind to know. He could feel it, he could feel everything he had run from for so long, everything he had never allowed himself to feel. He wanted to share everything with her, his past and his future, his happiness and his sadness, his body and whatever was left of his soul. He wanted to tell her about his childhood, he wanted to moan about his brothers to her, he wanted to show her the countless drawings he had made of her ever since he’d first learnt who she was, he wanted to worship her like she deserved. And he would take whatever she would offer in return.
“You are something else,” he murmured, his forehead pressed against hers. “I never thought I would find this. I never thought I would find you.”
“You ought to be careful,” Striga’s voice called out, making Xander jump as he realised he hadn’t even noticed her approaching. “If her father saw you like this, he’d have you marry her before dawn.”
Xander begrudgingly let Adriana go as Striga tilted her head to the house. Adriana nodded at him, a silent confirmation that they would speak again soon, before turning and walking towards the house. His eyes never left her, not until she disappeared from view.
“Young love,” Striga snorted.
“I do not know what you speak of.”
“Oh, do shut up, boy. Even if I were blind I’d be able to see the adoration you have for her, and her for you. Besides, Divina told me just as much before she passed.”
Xander snapped his head to where Striga stood, an odd look upon her face. “What are you talking about?”
“My sister, as you know, experienced a lot of uncontrollable visions in her final years. Many were about Adriana, one of which involved you. A prediction of a tragic love story.”
Xander clenched his jaw at her words, his mind plagued with worry. Striga had begun to walk back up the path to the house, her old body clearly tired and ready to settle in for the night. But as Xander reached his power out, to find whatever it was he knew she was refusing to share with him, he found the walls to her mind stronger than ever—an impenetrable fortress of radiant light.
Wincing at the brightness of her defences, Xander asked, “What do you mean by tragic? What did Divina mean by that?”
She turned to face him, and said, “It means, dear boy, do not mess it up,” before closing the door.
Xander stood staring at the house for minutes, maybe hours. The sun finally set and the stillness of the night surrounded him. If Divina had predicted a tragic love between them, he wanted no part in Adriana getting hurt. He could survive the pain of leaving her, he’d wear it as a badge of honour if it kept her safe, but he could not survive the pain of losing her entirely.
Realising how late it had gotten, he readied his horse and made to leave when he heard a small cry from behind the house. Xander brought his shadows in closely around him as he made his way to where he heard the sound. As he rounded the corner, he saw Adriana kneeling over a flower bed.
“Why on earth are you gardening at such a late hour?” he asked with a roll of his eyes.
“The roses are in full bloom. I wanted to make a bouquet for my great-grandmother while I remembered, but one of their damned thorns…”
Adriana’s voice filtered out as Xander’s ears began to ring, his heart thumping loudly against his chest. He could smell her blood before she even turned to him, a tiny red drop on the tip of her middle finger. A searing burn clawed at his throat, his eyes flaring as his mouth flooded with saliva.
“See, this is another reason why I prefer lilies…” Adriana trailed off as she watched a drop of blood fall onto the white rose she held. She tossed the rose to the ground and held her hand behind her back, worry etched across her face. She wasn't worried for herself, he realised, she was worried for him. “Sorry, it must be difficult—”
“Is everyone asleep?” he interrupted.
“I suspect my great-grandmother is. My father is still away and the staff have gone for the night. Why?”
“Let me help you inside, we can clean your finger.”
Xander placed a hand on her back and guided her to the door that led to the kitchens. In truth, it wouldn’t have mattered if the house had been full, it wouldn’t have bothered him if they’d all been awake and watching. All that mattered was how sweet she would taste as he drained her dry.
Chapter eleven
Weakness
Xander
Blood.
The only thing Xander could fixate on was that tiny red drop that kept growing on Adriana’s finger. She smelleddelicious. Not just that small drop, but the sweat on her skin and the heat between her thighs he had so desperately missed. And she had no idea.
