"The child was having nightmares again?" Rockbreaker’s deep voice was gentler than his name suggested.
"Yes," Boarstaff confirmed, grateful for the shift in focus. "The improvement nightmares. Apparently, she's been calling for Sebastian during them for weeks. Tonight he heard her."
Moonsinger leaned forward, her silver-streaked hair brushing against the table’s polished surface. "Why would she call for him? After everything she witnessed in that place?"
"Because he protected her there," Boarstaff replied simply.
"Or because he's imprinted on her somehow," Thornmaker interjected. "Some vampire trick to establish control over prey."
"That's not what happened," Boarstaff said, his patience wearing thin. "I was there. I saw them together. She trusts him."
"Which should concern us all," Thornmaker shot back. "A human child trusting a vampire isn't natural."
Ochrehand, who had remained silent, tapped her gnarled fingers against the table. "Many things about this situation aren't natural," she observed. "The brass threads beneath hisskin. The hunger that follows its own rhythm." Her gaze found Boarstaff's. "Has he fed recently?"
The question caught Boarstaff off-guard. "Not since our scheduled feeding."
A concerned murmur ran through the council. The implications were clear. A hungry vampire was a dangerous vampire, especially one no longer governed by mechanical regulators.
"Then we have a hungry vampire with diminishing control who's already demonstrated willingness to violate boundaries," Thornmaker summarized grimly. "Wonderful."
"I'll feed him after we're finished here," Boarstaff said, his tone making it clear this wasn't open for discussion. Several council members still grimaced at the mention of it.
Thornmaker's expression soured further. "And what happens next time the child has a nightmare? Or when he decides he's too hungry to wait for your scheduled feedings?"
The question hung in the air, weighted with genuine concern beneath Thornmaker's anger. The spearmaster wasn't wrong. Sebastian remained dangerous despite his transformation. Perhaps more dangerous since his hunger followed natural rhythms rather than mechanical regulators.
"What would you have us do?" Moonsinger pursed her lips. "Drive him away? Kill him? After everything he's done to help us?" She glanced toward Ochrehand. "After what your vision showed us?"
They all knew what Sebastian had sacrificed… his position in vampire society, his father's favor, his entire world. And they remembered Ochrehand's prophecy that had stayed his execution. But why had he made these sacrifices? For them? For Sarah? Boarstaff wasn't certain even Sebastian knew the answer.
"I would have us remember what he is." Thornmaker’s voice dropped to a growl that revealed the scars vampire attacks hadleft on his soul as much as his body. "Not what we wish he might become."
Boarstaff studied the faces around the table, reading the fears and hopes written in the lines of their expressions. The village remained divided. Some saw a potential ally, others perceived an inevitable threat. Both perspectives held the truth. Sebastian was both predator and protector, danger and defender. The contradiction lived in his dual nature, in his evolving identity, in the way he looked at Sarah... and at Boarstaff himself.
"He stays," Boarstaff said finally, the words carrying the weight of decisions that would ripple through all their lives. "With stricter boundaries. He doesn't enter the village without escort, regardless of circumstance." He met Thornmaker's gaze directly, acknowledging the warrior's concerns without yielding to them. "I'll make that clear to him."
"And if he violates those boundaries again?" Thornmaker pressed, the question cutting to the heart of Boarstaff's own private doubts.
"Then we'll reconsider his residence here entirely," Boarstaff conceded, the words like ash in his mouth. The thought of Sebastian banished, or worse… created a hollow sensation in his chest that he refused to examine too closely. "But until that happens, my decision stands."
Thornmaker looked ready to argue further, but Rockbreaker placed a restraining hand on his arm. "The warchief has spoken," the older warrior said quietly. "Let it rest for now."
The meeting dissolved shortly after, council members filing out with varying degrees of satisfaction. Only Moonsinger lingered, waiting until the others had left before approaching Boarstaff.
"The child truly called for him?" she asked, studying Boarstaff with sharp eyes.
Boarstaff nodded. "Every night, from what I've heard. She believes he'll protect her."
"And will he?" Her gaze was assessing, probing.
"I believe so," Boarstaff said, after a moment's consideration. "Though perhaps not for reasons we would understand."
Moonsinger's mouth curved in a slight smile. "Few predators protect their prey without reason." Her fingers brushed his wrist where the punctures from Sebastian's last feeding remained hidden beneath his sleeve. "Be careful, Boarstaff. Boundaries work both ways."
The comment hung between them, its meaning clear enough. "I should find him," he said instead. "Before hunger makes this situation more complicated."
She nodded, but her knowing expression followed him as he left the council chamber.
