Page 137 of Blood of the Fairest

My heart pounds, the terror nipping at my heels⁠—

Until I jolt awake for real this time when the carriage rolls over a bump.

"You dozed off again," Eris murmurs, watching me closely from the opposite wall of the reflective interior. "Not surprising, I suppose, given how poorly you've slept at every inn."

It's true. I've slept like shit for the last couple of nights.

I blame the nightmares, which now almost always include that stupid fucking mirror. At this point, I'm beginning to wonder if my bad dreams will just keep getting worse the longer I'm trapped in the wrong world.

Blinking away the grogginess, I straighten and stretch out the soreness in my neck and the rest of my body.

As usual, my throat is burning, empty stomach clenching angrily—and as usual, I try my best to ignore it.

I pull aside the lacy curtain to peek out the small window. Darkness is falling over the towering trees of the Loomdark in the distance, past a long stretch of golden meadow.

"How long did I sleep?" I yawn.

"Not long. We're well past Aurefeld's border, so the caravan should stop at the last inn of the journey soon."

This is the third and last full day of travel. So far it's been relatively monotonous, but we're supposed to arrive at Aurefeld Castle around noon tomorrow.

Thank god, because I don't think my ass has ever been this sore. I didn't go on many road trip vacations as a kid, on account of my divorced parents always claiming it was the others' job to waste money on crap like that—but this trip has made it clear I'm not a road trip kind of gal. It's been long and grueling.

It probably would have been boring, too, but I'm lucky enough to have a gorgeous mirror companion to bug whenever I want.

Before I drop the lace back over the window, I catch a glimpse of the Huntsman.

Since the carriage is a little cramped for his impressive stature, and since I was having a hard time keeping my hands off of him and my fangs out of his neck, I ordered him to guard the caravan until I gave him another order.

Sue me. I needed some space to breathe and de-hornify, and this was the best thing I could think of to occupy my Viking-like protector.

As a result, Wulf has spent most of the last two days on horseback, riding a small distance away from the Isenmerian knights and guards escorting the caravan. He sometimes rides closer to check on me, just like he is right now. A quiver of arrows sits on his back, since he's been hunting rabbits along the way for the others to eat.

Even this little glimpse of my Viking-like protector makes my pulse skyrocket. I can practically smell minty blackberries and hear the rasp of his low voice all over again.

Allow me to sate you.

You bewitch me, vantaði.

Lord have mercy…on Wulf's dick, if I ever run out of self-control around him.

Which absolutely can't happen, or else I might accidentally bite him again and drink way too much, like I did last time.

I've turned down feeding on him for the last couple of days, even giving him an order not to add anything to the queen's wine I packed for the trip.

Wulf accepted the order with a clenched jaw. Eris again reminded me that I promised to drink blood daily—but my mind is made up.

I'm not feeding on the Huntsman again.

The poor guy needs time to recover from being my walking blood bag. Maybe I'll figure out some other way to feed once we reach Aurefeld.

Sadly, the odds are probably low that they'll have a local blood bank or AA for vampires.

Maybe Cinderella can help me go home before I have to feed again. Fingers crossed.

Absentmindedly, I rub my neck, trying like hell not to think about the only thing that will get rid of this burn in my throat.

"Thirsty, Fairest?" Eris asks gently.