I keep waiting for Galen to check on her, or for Sable to jump out from around a corner and try to stab my heart. Neither has happened, which makes sleeping a most difficult task. Selene, however, wakes looking refreshed, as if the constant state of chaos is her peace.
Lack of sleep is nothing crispy bacon can’t fix. Speaking of which, yum! My nostrils flare following the aroma. I glide my tongue over my fangs, anticipating the crunch of the meat; it’llbounce through my ears and then dive to my belly. My boots glide eagerly, like rocks skipping water, along the polished floors of Blackthorn Castle.
But a glance at my shirt sleeve makes me frown. I glare at the hole in my hem as I would at an enemy I spotted. I should have bought a new one. I’m not used to luxuries.
It’s nice walking on clean floors, having boots that don’t dirty everything.
Yet it feels like a limited-time attraction not suited for this battle-worn soldier.
I’d rather have rips in my shirts than gaping, bleeding wounds in my back that came at the hand of my royal advisors.I run a hand through my hair, making sure I don’t feel the imaginative weight of the crown Everett told me I could have.
I don’t think men should pledge allegiance to another man. They should fight to the death for a purpose far beyond that.
“General.” Two soldiers dip their chins as they pass me. Breakfast scents linger on their clothing.
Red flashes in front of me. I dodge to the right to avoid the collision.“Titus, my man.” A grinning warrior with curly red hair rushes to my side and tackles me in a hug.
I stiffen. It feels too… fatherly. Caring.
Enough with the hugs and welcomes. I want food.
I clap his back in acknowledgement. The sting in my palm surprises me. He’s got the physique of a bull: stocky, shorter, but wider than I am. I’m like Ryker when it comes to socializing with others. I prefer the shadows.
I grit my teeth, step back, and listen to him babble.Hurry so I can eat, please. “My wife just had our first child,” he tells me. His glow highlights his freckles.
His arms are bigger than tree trunks. I step back. He smiles, and the hulking tree turns into the kind you’d want to sit under.
“Thanks to you killing that pointy-eared fuck, I got to be home to hold my son. I owe you my life.”
His eyes don’t share the joy of his words. What are you searching for?
Grind your teeth; don’t defend Everett.
Why not? If I agree with this speech, I’m just a sword, no longer a man.
I touch his shoulder. “I am happy you can hold your son.” It takes those born with magic much longer to have children compared to humans. Some vampires try lifetimes only to be refused by the gods.
“But Prince Everett was a man, the same as you and I; he fought for his family as you do yours.”
Defending others will be what kills me.
His eyes narrow.
Yeah, I see all your weapons. The small dagger on your back, the two long swords at your side, they are a bit overkill, eh? The breakfast meat is already slaughtered.
My lips set in a firm line. “I have witnessed evil and vanquished it in battle. Everett was not that.”
“He was a fae.”
My toes flex against my boots. “As you are a vampire. Prince Everett followed his king’s commands, as we do ours. We’re warriors; it makes no difference in the shape of our ears. I do not blame the sword for how sharp it is. I blame the maker for how he swung it.”
“Are you not the man who holds the sword?”
“My hands have never been my own.” I fear they never will be.
I’m a cog in a machine. Alone, I do nothing; I am nothing. But with my fellow warriors, we can accomplish much. The problem is that all Galen seeks is more land.
“You sound like a fae sympathizer.” He doesn’t step back in offense; he’s firm as dungeon irons.
