“And here I hoped you could tell me what destiny had in store for me.” I tilt my head but the world sways. I’m dizzy. It’s not just the heat of his touch. I wonder how much blood I lost as clarity begins to dawn on me.
Ruvan tightens his arms around me once more, holding me to him. My temple lands on his shoulder. Somehow I’m positioned in his lap. I actually made it there, just like I wanted. His heart thrums in my ear, as steady a rhythm as my hammer in the forge. Somehow, his embrace is all I expected and more. I almost want to cry with how good it is to be held. I’ve been strong for so long, a pillar of the community, carrying the load of silver and expectation alike… I can’t remember the last time I was comforted like this.
“Enough questions for now. You need to rest.” He raises his thumb to his mouth, bites it lightly, and smears one drop of black blood on my lower lip as he studies me. The pad of his finger lingers on my lip, his nail grazing my skin before he pulls away.
“But you—”
“We can share the power that flows between us. I took too much; let me give some back.”
I lick my lips and feel the rush of him in my veins. Outside of battle, the magic is not as needy. It does not demand blood or battle.
Swirling him on my tongue, I try to think of what he tastes like beyond the heavy, metallic note of blood. There’s sweetness there, like an overripe plum. A darkness akin to the depth of fortified wine. I can taste something mineral, like the rocky crags that hold the castle.
Kindness. It’s an odd thought, but as my eyes dip closed that’s what I settle on. “You taste like kindness,” I murmur.
He rasps a chuckle and tucks wayward hair behind my ear. “And here I thought life had made me too bitter for that.”
“You’re not bitter at all.” I yawn. “You’re…impossibly sweet.”
Ruvan’s fingers pause at that, fingertips light on the crest of my ear as he moves to tuck hair away from my face. “I am not.”
“You are…though I saw nothing of your future.”
He huffs softly. “Good. Now, rest, Floriane. We have to get to the anchor tomorrow.”
I oblige, succumbing to exhaustion in the arms of the vampire lord.
* * *
I’m backin the halls of the castle. But they are not the dilapidated husks that I saw with my waking eyes. These hallways are illuminated by gilded candelabra and the fractured light of polished chandeliers. The tapestries are new, colors bright. The carpets on the floor are plush underneath my feet.
Except, they are notmyfeet.
I pass by mirrors—uncovered ones—and find myself to be a taller, slimmer woman. My short black hair is replaced by long, dark brown tresses and black eyes with deep amber. I move through the halls with confidence, not fear. This is not a place of danger yet. This is home.
The path I take leads me to a metal door—a rare and custom piece that displays the blacksmith’s skill. The metal took years to develop; this was merely a test—an experimentation—but it will all be worth it once the daggers are made. On the center of the door is a marking that looks like a teardrop with a diamond in its center, two daggerlike slashes making a V shape beneath it.
I run my fingertips lightly over the familiar symbol before grabbing the handle. A silver needle punctures my skin on the door-facing side of the handle. Extra precaution. I can’t have anyone else knowing what I do here. I can’t have my research getting out too soon or, worse, falling into the wrong hands. There are some that would want to weaponize my work. I hardly grimace as my blood fills the grooves within the door and allows me entry.
Inside the workshop, I set about my business with confidence. The smith has the right alloy now. We can test it with new daggers during the next full moon. We need the blood of sentient creatures—those with experience to empower the blood. They’ll come willingly and give their blood during the festival.
With the right pacts…we’ll strengthen the vampir enough that they must no longer live in seclusion. We’ll—
There is someone at the door. I turn, beaming. There’s only one person who would come and visit me here.
It is the man I saw in the ruins.
“Solos,” I say with a voice not my own. “Come and look at this dagger; it won’t be much longer now. We can put an end to the horrors once and for all.”
I wake to sunlight,warmed by its rays, and a dull ache that slowly retreats from between my temples. I am sprawled upon the floor and I stretch languidly, almost lazily. I feel like one of the cats that would sleep on the top of the great wall that surrounded Hunter’s Hamlet and the fortress, dozing in the sunlight without a care in the world.
The previous day returns to me in a rush. I inhale sharply. My hand flies to my neck. The skin is sensitive and the barest touch sends shivers up my spine. I exhale with a shiver and lick my lips, as though the blood from his thumb was still there. The taste of him returns to me.
Ruvan is still fast asleep. He has curled up against the wall, to the side of the window.
Slowly rolling onto my side, I pull my knees under me and crawl over to him. His hair has fallen over his face. His breaths are slow and even; he looks almost peaceful. Just his visage brings back the memories of last night. His strong arms around me, tightening. The feeling of his growing, insatiable need for me. A need I wanted to fulfill.
I rub my neck thoughtfully. Is it the magic of the bloodsworn or something more? I want to say it is just the vampire magic toying with my mind, that I would never desire such things.
