The last few days have been filled with prickling disquietude—my nerves on edge, my body strained. Not knowing the tide of the war—my traitorous brain concocting the worst potential outcomes. I shudder at the nightmarish memories of my nightly visions.
Blaise, pale under the moonlight, his body mangled and torn, his head ripped ruthlessly from the rest of his body—gore staining his pretty face.
Killian alive, but turned onpyr, all feral and vicious, his once beautiful eyes now smeared the color of scarlet wine, of blood and demise. Stalking me like prey, cornering me and finally, finally wrecking me like I expected him to since the moment I met him.
Above all, Morweena, the puppet master, pulling his strings right in front of my eyes. In my nightmares, she appears like an oozing gash, bursting in the very fabric of reality, covered in moss green velvet and rotting decay. Wild, blood-red hair frames her face in a knotted crown of pure inferno, and black lips curl into a snarl that knows nothing but cruelty; pure, primordial hatred. Her eyes are milky, unblinking chasms that don’t seem to gaze at anything in particular; they perceive not with sight but with starvation—of power and desolation. Her parched skin is the pale shade of ashes, withering away to dust before me. She looks timeless, untouched by the flowing sands of fate. Every glimpse of her in my mind’s eye feels like pure torture. She is an anathema given form, as if Imiryion itself dreamed of its own destruction and conjured her from the deepest pits of hell.
I barge into the room with no ounce of decorum, sighing loudly as I run towards the two males standing by the desk.
“Oh Gods, you’re really here!” I throw myself into Blaise’s arms, the momentum of my body’s impact on him making us spin on the spot once. I hug him fiercely before he places me down, chuckling awkwardly. He takes a step back, keeping me at arm’s length, and I notice the murderous-looking vampire behind him.
Killian’s fists are clenched, his lips drawn tight in a straight line, jealousy swimming in his obsidian stare. His shadows twirl around him like a blood-soaked halo.
I frown, taking in his body language. No! He can’t be! Is he really jealous of Blaise?
“I was worried aboutbothof you,” I say, looking straight into his eyes, my voice lowering towards the end to emphasize my point.
“And webothmissed you dearly, kitty cat! Some of us are just better at murder and mayhem than at expressing feelings!” Blaise says in his typical singsong voice. He directs his pointed stare at the other vampire.
A low, menacing snarl is the only reaction.
I take two steps back, looking for any signs of damage on their figures. Blaise has a busted lip that’s already healing fast, while a discolored patch of skin under his right eye is all that remains from what I can only imagine was a nasty bruise. Killian, however, looks as dazzling as ever, the dark circles under his eyes the only sign of the hell they went through.
My fingers twitch with the need to touch him, to make sure he is real, and not just a figment of my imagination. But I know better than to succumb to such silly urges. We’re bound to run into each other; that’s an undeniable fact—seeing how this is his castle. But if we both reign in this sensuous compulsion that’s wreaking havoc in our minds, we’ll be fine.
Amicable.
Civil.
Friends with zero benefits.
Like two old monks—very chaste, very unencumbered by flesh’s pleasures. See, easy peasy!
“So what happens next?” I ask, switching my gaze back to Blaise.
“Now, princess, I plan to celebrate in Drovillan tonight. Get absolutely smashed!”
My ears perk up at the sound of that. I’ve been held up in this place for so long that the idea of a night out is like a breath of fresh spring air.
From Nella’s stories, Drovillan is a beautiful, dark medieval city, and my whole body itches at the novelty it represents.
“Take me with you, please! I want to explore, to have some Godsdamn fun!” I supplicate Blaise, my eyes pleading, my breath hitched.
“Uh, uh, kitty. Where I’m going is no place for a lady,” he says, and I huff indignantly.
“Bullshit! May I remind you where I was and what I was doing for a living before you not-so-graciously abducted me?”
The disreputable vampire bursts out laughing, holding his hands up in a placating way. “Heavens, no! For all our sakes, let’s not dwell on that!”
I’m prepared to insist—beg, if I need to—but Killian’s firm voice cuts through our squabble.
“I will take you out to Drovillan, little menace.”
I turn to him to refuse the offer, but his scowl leaves no room for discussion. “Don’t even try to say no. I will pick you up after nightfall. Be ready!” With that, he inclines his head slightly and marches out of the room, grumbling under his breath something about infuriating females and good-for-nothing brothers.
“You know, as both his little brother and your big brother, I feel it is kind of my sacred duty to say this. The longer youbothplay this cat and kitty game, the harder the fall when youbothwill surrender.”
I frown. “Cat and kitty?”
