Page 118 of Dhampira

Vander nodded. “We just have to make it stick.”

Worry returned. “That’s what Rasimir wants,” I said. “If I can make it stick, he can force me to pass it to him. He’ll use me to grow stronger.”

“He’ll use you anyway,” Lorcan said, coming to me. Taking my hand, he placed a light kiss on the inside of my wrist, his lips brushing my veins. “We’ll keep working. You’ll get stronger. Vander and I will help you.”

Pleasure spiked. My heart sped up as he released my hand, taking his heat with him. When I looked at Vander, his expression wasn’t unreadable at all. It was blistering. Heated and possessive.

And he made no effort to hide it in front of the man I was supposed to marry. That said a lot more than any words he might have spoken.

Lorcan glanced at the scorched spot in the middle of the grass. “No more tests for today. We’ll return in the morning.”

Sezat lingered on my lips, its power humming in my veins. “I should use this on Rasimir,” I said. “Petrify him the second I get the chance.”

Vander shook his head. “He’s warded. Zid is a common root word. Rasimir stole it a long time ago, and he’s wielded it for centuries. Witches duel for it from an early age, and they learn to wall themselves off from magical attacks. A stronger witch—or vampire in possession of stolen magic—can break through that wall, but it takes skill.”

Skill I didn’t have. Nodding, I tried not to let my disappointment show.

A few minutes later, the men flanked me as we moved through the forest. They were so different and yet the same in many ways. They both pledged themselves to helping me. They protected me. And the cravings they raised within me were increasingly difficult to resist.

The memory of Ruvien’s voice flowed through my mind. We almost always have a choice.

But when it came to Lorcan and Vander, it seemed I didn’t have to make one. Could I let myself fall for two men who also cared for each other? What would Mama say? She’d always taught me that love was something to be cherished when found. But she’d never mentioned the possibility of finding it with two people at once—or when those two people already belonged to each other.

Was I intruding on something sacred? Or was there truly room for me in whatever Vander and Lorcan had built together? The way they looked at me sometimes, the lingering touches and protective gestures…It felt real. But so did the two centuries of history between them, along with the easy intimacy I’d witnessed.

And what did it say about me that I wanted them both? That watching them together had only made me more curious, more driven to explore them, not just as teachers or necessary allies but as men? In Derryton, the thought of two lovers would have been scandalous. But in Nocta, surrounded by vampires and magic and impossible things, maybe the rules were different. Maybe I was different.

But different didn’t mean less confusing. And I was completely in over my head. The wedding, Nocta’s war, and my father’s instability loomed on a horizon I approached with lightning-fast speed.

We reached the courtyard, the statues silent observers as we made our way to the Drakhold. Sezat filled my mind and mouth, the vor at the ready. As a knight emerged from the castle, power hummed in my veins. Petrify him, it whispered. I schooled my features in what I hoped was a blank mask as convincing as Lorcan’s. If I showed the promise of power, Rasimir would push me harder so he could steal it. I had to succeed just enough to keep him happy but not so much that he decided to drain me or compel me to produce magical children. Ruvien was right. My choices were shit.

“Your Highness,” the knight said, bowing to me. He offered the same greeting to Lorcan before acknowledging Vander. Then he straightened and adopted a formal tone. “The king invites the three of you to dine with him this evening.”

Familiar fear tightened my gut. My choices were shit—and they kept getting worse.

24

Iwoke shivering. Through the windows, a half-moon hung heavy in the night sky. Cool air streamed through the balcony doors, which were slightly ajar. The gown I’d worn to dinner cinched my waist, the boning digging into my ribs. Delphine hadn’t appeared to undress me, and I’d fallen asleep in my chair.

But at least the temple and the Crau Setra had been absent from my dreams.

And it was no wonder. Dinner had left me exhausted, my cheeks aching from smiling through course after course and Rasimir’s pointed questions.

Where did you go?

What did you learn?

“No vors, Majesty,” Lorcan had said, his long fingers wrapped around the stem of his wineglass. “But the princess continues to show promise.”

Rasimir had stared at him a moment too long before looking at me, and his smile had come just a little too slowly before he replied, “I prefer that she show progress.”

Goose bumps rose on my arms, the chill in the room pulling me from my memories and out of my chair. The second I stood, pain shot down my neck. Grimacing, I massaged the ache as I blinked in the darkness. Working the kinks of unsettled sleep from my shoulders, I turned in a slow circle, my skirts rustling. The chamber was quiet, the fire nothing more than embers. A few hobflies drifted above the candles on a nearby table.

Guilt twisted around me. I’d been so caught up with kisses and borrowed power, I neglected to do something about the hobflies. But asking Delphine to remove the tiny prisoners from my presence seemed worse than inaction. Drawing attention to their plight was likely to enrage Rasimir. The best I could do was tell myself I’d free the hobflies as soon as I was able.

A chilly breeze swirled around my ankles. I could do something about that, at least.

Fresh roses perfumed the air as I moved toward the balcony. The snake on the headboard glittered in the darkness, its open jaws poised above the bed. Delphine still turned down the blankets every evening—and then pretended not to notice that I never slept among them. When—and if—she arrived to help me dress for the day, I’d pretend I didn’t know she healed Rasimir’s prisoners to keep them healthy for him to consume. Lorcan told me to practice hiding my expressions in the mirror. But maybe I didn’t need it. Maybe the Drakhold had numbed me as thoroughly as the cold.