It’s as if I’ve summoned Ruvan with a thought.
A hazy dawn shines in beams, cut by the iron of the windows, striking a patchwork on the floor. I opened the shutters long ago to have the light of the moon to work by and now the sun has entered without welcome. The vampire lord stands underneath the archway that leads to the old armory. The thick night that continues to slumber in the castle is wrapped around him like a blanket.
His hair is silvery in the low light, the same color as the metal I’ve been working with for hours on end. It’s a complement, even I must admit, to the golden hue of his eyes. He is a man of pure night and winter’s chill, and yet…he does not feel frigid in this moment.
Something about him is scalding.
It’s like I’ve stood here before. Like he’s come to me in this smithy many times. This moment, his presence, it’s achingly familiar and yet so different that an intense awareness has taken me. I know him in my blood. I feel him there, threatening to overwhelm me if I’m not careful.
“Are you finished?” His low rumble cuts through the smithy, reminding me of just how silent it has been since I stopped working and started cleaning.
“Yes.”
He steps forward. I straighten away from the weapons, staring, stunned, as he walks into the gray light of morning. He doesn’t burst into flames. His skin is kissed gently by the sun. The only reaction he seems to have to sunlight is blinking a few times.
“Are you prone to staring at men?”
My cheeks burn instantly and I look back at the table of weapons. “I wasn’t staring.”
“Admiring, then?” He draws out the words with purpose.
“Hardly.” I snort. “I thought vampires burn in sunlight.”
“When the curse claims us, in life or death, we do. But not before,” he says. “The vampir are not a people of the night naturally. Yes, our magic has always been at its strongest around the full moon. But it was the curse of the hunters that caused our people to begin existing only by moonlight.”
“I see.”
He comes to a stop beside the table. “You don’t believe me.” I hate how it’s not phrased as a question. He seems to know my thoughts.
“I don’t know what I can and can’t believe when it comes to you,” I murmur.
“When will you accept that I can’t lie to you, even if I wanted to? And this might come as a surprise, but Idon’twant to.” He looks at me through his lashes, face still downcast toward the weapons on the table. His hair hangs between us like a veil. Like armor protecting us both in the prodding of the other. Old gods forbid what we might find if we probed too deeply with this bond connecting us.
“Can I help you with something?” I motion to the weapons, putting the topic of sunlight to rest. So much for plotting to “accidentally” rip off the curtains.
“I should think it obvious that I’m going to inspect your work.” Ruvan checks the leather guards I carefully replaced on each of the hilts—an extra layer of protection between the vampire’s flesh and the silver. “I’m not going to allow you to attempt to find a loophole in the words of our bloodsworn. Some kind of way where you do not deal the killing blow but a faulty weapon does.”
“I can do that?” I blurt.
“No, so you shouldn’t look so hopeful.” He chuckles, though it sounds somewhat sad. “Ventos would be after me again if I didn’t double-check everything. Not having to deal with his griping is my real motivation.”
I purse my lips. “I didn’t do anything to sabotage any of you. Your weapons are twice as good as when you brought them here.” I brush past him, going to leave.
“I can see that. Thank you, Riane.” It’s so odd to hear sincere gratitude from a vampire.
I stop, looking back at him. I’ve never spent this much time alone with any man, save for Drew, and time with my brother isvastlydifferent. Every other time I’ve been in such close quarters with a man they’ve either been too nervous to speak, eager to get away from me as quickly as possible so they don’t get in trouble, or they see me as a conquest, something to aspire to. A forbidden fruit they’re eager to pluck. Ruvan doesn’t seem to want anything from me. And I don’t seem to make him nervous in the slightest.
Maybe this is what it is like to be just a woman, with just a man. Though nothing about either of us is “just” anything.
“If we’re going to face danger, it helps me also to make sure you are all at your best,” I say finally.
“That is very true. I had hoped you saw it that way.”
“I really couldn’t have sabotaged the weapons?” I ask without meeting his eyes. “Not that I did, or even tried.” Guilt floods me. I was so lost to the forge that I didn’t even think about trying to find a way to kill the vampires for the whole night.
“You could’ve tried. But you would be compelled to tell us what you did before it would harm us. That urge would grow greater and greater, becoming unbearable the moment before we would be harmed by your action.”
“Wonderful,” I remark dryly.
