“Okay, well, I want to see you again. Maybe tomorrow?” I suggested. I still needed to get more information from him.
“Yes, tomorrow. Here is my number; please call me.” Connor kissed me deeply, and I allowed myself a moment to be happy for tomorrow to come.
TWENTY-TWO
April 17, 1891
My sleeps were haunted by nightmares—visions of my parents’ lifeless bodies drifting down the river, their faces scratched and marred with blood. One dream in particular terrified me, where Draven and I stood, facing each other, our lips crimson-stained. I would wake up screaming, but his soothing voice would quickly reassure me that it was just a dream, reminding me that I was safe in his embrace.
Most nights, I fell asleep with Draven by my side. Often, when I stirred in the night, I’d find him seated in a chair, the soft glow of candlelight casting shadows across his angular features. His mind seemed forever restless, thoughts swirling, refusing to grant him peace. Sometimes, he would gaze out into the night, lost in contemplation, or immerse himself in a book. Yet, the moment he sensed me awake, he would return to bed, wrapping me in his arms until my unease melted away in his presence.
My curiosity about Draven’s research had not waned, and over the course of a few weeks, I brought it up on several occasions. Each time he danced around the subject; his charm was frustratingly effective. With a captivating smile, he would shift the conversation and distract me with a kiss. Irecognized his tactics, but my determination only grew stronger.
I’ve stopped writing letters to Vail. Instead, I headed into town every few days to visit her. We enjoyed shopping together or sitting at a café, catching up on each other’s lives. Occasionally, I noticed the people of Elmcross watching me, perhaps wondering where I might be residing. At times, I would catch Vail looking at me with concern, though I reassured her she had nothing to fear.
Despite the watchful eyes around us, I told Vail every detail of my growing relationship. She always listened with genuine interest. She wore a velvet necklace with a single pearl, a gift from someone special, she claimed. Yet, whenever I asked about the giver, she remained tight-lipped.
During one of our conversations, Vail expressed her desire to meet Draven. I promised her that one day, when he was not so busy, we could arrange a dinner for them to meet.
As I made my way home one evening, I felt the weight of time pressing on me. The sun was setting later in the day, casting long shadows through the trees. The sky darkened rapidly as I walked toward Thornwood Manor. The conversations with Vail still echoed in my mind, distracting me from the dwindling daylight.
Approaching the familiar grounds, an unsettling sense of foreboding washed over me. I pulled off my hood, straining to hear the rustle of leaves and the whispers of the night that surrounded me. Each sound seemed amplified in the growing darkness, sharpening my awareness and setting my nerves on edge.
A subtle movement made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I quickened my pace, but the sound shifted again, seeming to close in around me. A rush of emotions swirled inside of me, yet I did nothing but freeze as images of the Blood Hunter who killed my mother entered my mind.
I stood paralyzed, listening, a heavy weight pushing down on me, and the edges of my vision tunnelled as I willed my legs to move. A branch snapped behind me, and I bolted, heart racing as I sprinted toward the gate. The cobblestone path stretched out before me, the sound of my hurried steps echoing in the stillness of the night. An uneven stone sent me sprawling to the ground, my knees crashing into the mud. Panic surged within me as I felt a hand land on my shoulder.
“No! Don’t kill me!” I cried out, shielding myself against the beast I was convinced was upon me. But instead of teeth tearing into my flesh, I heard a familiar, calming voice.
“Rosalia, please, it’s me. Do not worry.”
Tears clung to my lashes as I looked up, my heart racing wildly in my chest. Draven’s face swam into view, framed by his long hair. He extended his hand, helping me to my feet and enveloping me in his arms.
“It’s all right,” Draven said, kissing the top of my head, his breath warm. I clung to him, feeling foolish for my overreaction. I should have had my dagger with me. But I’d grown complacent in my living situation, and now I regretted it. I shivered into his chest. My limbs felt weak, and I realized I couldn’t afford to let my guard down again.
“You are freezing. Let’s get you inside.”
Trembling, I followed Draven into the mansion. Imalda was sweeping the floors as we entered.
“Imalda, prepare Miss Bertrand’s bath, please.”
She hurried up the stairs without a second thought.
Draven carried me to my room and placed me in a chair. I glanced down at myself, horrified to see my dress caked in mud. I could only imagine it had woven its way into my hair as well.Another ruined dress,I thought with a sigh.
Draven went into the bathing chambers and brought me a damp cloth. “I will return shortly,” he said, kissing my forehead before slipping out the door.
I lifted the hem of my dress and gasped—my knees were streaked with blood, fresh cuts glistening angrily against my skin. Slipping off my shoes, I began to roll down my stockings, wincing as the fabric tugged at the sticky wounds. Just then, Imalda stepped out of the bathing chambers to announce that the bath was ready. She gently helped me to my feet, turned me around, and began unfastening the buttons of my dress. Once she left, I eased myself into the tub, the warm water enveloping me like a gentle embrace. Slowly, the tension in my body began to melt away, dissolving like frost beneath the morning sun.
Draven returned with a soft knock on the door, a cup of tea in one hand, and wearing no shirt. His chest glistened with sweat, muscles taut beneath the flickering candlelight.
“Where is your shirt?” I asked, instinctively crossing my arms over my chest and sinking deeper beneath the water’s surface.
He set the teacup on the small table beside the tub and settled into a chair in the corner.
“I checked the grounds,” he said casually. “Wanted to make sure no one was lurking.”
“And that required losing your shirt?” I arched a brow.
