Vampire Academy: The Untold Stories

by Richelle Mead

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  An exclusive, never-before-seen collection of stories that sheds new light on the Vampire Academy world and its players:

  ‘The Turn and the Flame’ takes a deeper look into the dark stain on the Ozera dynasty…

  ‘From the Journal of Vasilisa Dragomir’ unearths the princess’s private thoughts from a transformative period of her life…

  ‘The Meeting’ gives us a glimpse of Rose Hathaway through Dimitri’s eyes…

  ‘Hello, My Name Is Rose Hathaway’ reveals the chaos that ensues when Rose and Dimitri become unlikely teammates in a high-stakes scavenger hunt…

  Contents

  About the Book

  Letter from the Author

  The Turn and the Flame

  From the Journal of Vasilisa Dragomir

  The Meeting

  Hello, My Name Is Rose Hathaway

  Read More

  About the Author

  Penguin Platform

  Dear Reader,

  I collect ideas. They pop into my head while I’m out in the world doing ordinary things, be it shopping at the grocery store or putting in time on an exercise bike. None of these ideas instantly transforms into a story. They’re fragments. One might be a cool setting. Another might be a “what if …” dilemma. Or maybe there’s a quirky character I think would be fun to write. Eventually, I get enough ideas, and I see if I can mesh them together and make a story. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn’t.

  Vampire Academy worked—far better than I’d ever expected. I’d fallen in love with the Romanian myth of two races of vampires, and I became obsessed with visualizing how they’d create societies within our society. I’d read countless books about kickass heroines but never about how they became that way. What did they do while they were young? How did they temper a reckless nature with doing the right thing? And of course, there was the romance piece: just a tiny flicker of an idea about a girl in love with her mentor and the fallout that ensued.

  Now, more than ten years later, the crafting of that collection of ideas into one girl’s story has created a six-book series and a spin-off that are beloved around the world. I meet readers who get Rose’s tattoos. Who identify with her. Who dream with her. And the outpouring of emotion I’ve seen from readers like you has been more humbling and wondrous than I can explain. I never imagined I’d have the opportunity to connect with so many amazing people.

  How did Christian’s parents turn? What was running away from St. Vladimir’s like for Lissa? What did Dimitri first think of Rose? And what exactly does Rose do for fun when she’s not saving the Moroi civilization? These questions and more are addressed in this collection of stories. I hope readers love getting this peek into the Vampire Academy world because I’ve certainly loved having the chance to revisit it. Even with it and the Bloodlines series wrapped up, the characters still go on with a life of their own, thanks to the fans who keep loving them. I’m so grateful to all the readers who’ve stayed passionate and loyal to the series after all these years. It’s made writing a joy. And who knows? Maybe there are more new adventures for Rose and the gang on some future day.

  Yours,

  RICHELLE MEAD

  The Turn and the Flame

  Tasha Ozera didn’t like dresses. Or high heels. Or meaningless conversation. Really, she didn’t like anything to do with fancy parties. She knew, however, that there was a game to play, and she’d learned how to play it long ago.

  “Tasha, please stop sulking. It’ll give you wrinkles.”

  That, unsurprisingly, came from Tasha’s sister-in-law, Moira. Moira Ozera—formerly Moira Szelsky—had been a celebrated beauty back in her day. She was still beautiful. Tasha could never forget Moira and Lucas’s wedding and how everyone in the ballroom had held a collective breath when the two of them whirled around on the dance floor. Tasha, only seven, had stood with the other awestruck guests and felt certain that no couple could ever be more dazzling than her brother and his bride.

  Tasha trudged barefoot through the living room, uncaring that the hem of her sparkling gown dragged along the floor, and flounced onto the sofa. “I’m not sulking. I’m just thinking.”

  Moira paused in front of an antique mirror framed in brass vines. She smoothed a wisp of chestnut hair back into place and pursed her lips to check if she should reapply her lipstick. She decided she should.

  Observing, Tasha couldn’t help but think that she hadn’t put even half as much care into her appearance as Moira had into hers. And Moira wasn’t even going to a party. She, Lucas, and Christian were simply driving back to their country house tonight.

  “Well then, little sister, I hope you’re thinking about how you’ll be the star of the ball tonight.” That was Lucas, striding in with his easy smile. He set a suitcase down on the floor and kissed his wife’s cheek. “I remember when we were at the Summer’s End Ball. You wouldn’t believe how many of us were desperately following Moira around, willing to do anything just for a smile. Or even a second glance.”

  Tasha could believe it because she’d heard this story many times, but she smiled anyway. Lucas hadn’t been this upbeat in a while, and she liked the change. “I don’t think that’ll happen to me tonight,” she replied. “But I’ll try not to embarrass the family name.”

  Lucas winked. “That’s all we can hope for.”

  “No,” said Moira, turning from the mirror. “That is not all we can hope for. We should hope that she’ll get engaged. Or, at the very least, that some young man from a prestigious family might visit once in a while instead of those bohemians who are always stopping by. And why aren’t you wearing your shoes, Tasha?”

  The family’s two guardians entered the room just then, carrying the last of the luggage. Tasha didn’t like seeing them relegated to bellhops, but she knew they’d both die before uttering a word of complaint.

  “Everything’s ready,” said Nolan. “The car’s out front, and then we’ll meet up with Guardian Locke and his car at the gate. Your feeder’s waiting there as well.”

  “I don’t know why we need two cars or a borrowed guardian,” said Moira. “It seems like a waste.”

  Lucas frowned as well. “Really, we’ll be fine. Send Locke somewhere else.”

  “We’re just looking out for your safety, Lady Moira,” replied Vinh in his quiet, respectful way. “A nighttime drive is dangerous, and Guardian Locke happens to have an assignment nearby. He’ll remain with you at the house until Lady Tasha and I can join you tomorrow.”

  “You’re staying here instead of Nolan?” asked Lucas, his tone mild. A very slight furrowing of his brow was the only sign of his displeasure.

  Tasha stood up and quickly said, “If you’re so worried about it, Moira, just wait until tomorrow. Then we can all leave together.” As she’d hoped, it deflected the conversation away from Vinh.

  “Driving in daylight is always safer,” added Nolan diplomatically. “It wouldn’t be difficult to change our plans.”

  “No, no,” said Moira, with more insistence than Tasha thought was needed. “Nothing’s changing. I want to be back home tonight. I’m tired of Court.”

  “Tonight it is, then.” Lucas glanced around. “Where’s Christian?”

  Moira sighed. “Why is he always skulking away? And why can’t anyone ever keep track of him?”

  Vinh’s face remained neutral, but Tasha could see the amusement sparkling in his eyes. “I’ll find him.”

  A couple minutes later, Vinh returned with Christian. At nine years old, the boy was a miniature version of his father, sporting the black hair and pale blue eyes shared by so many Ozeras, including Tasha. Normally quiet and introspective, Christian’s face w
as alight with glee as he clung to the tall guardian’s back in a piggyback ride and then was gently deposited next to his parents. Vinh immediately straightened up and became his proper self once more.

  “I don’t want to go out to the house,” said Christian. “It’s boring. I want to go back to school. Or stay here with Aunt Tasha and see the ball. They’re lighting fireworks when it’s done!”

  Tasha grinned. “You want to be my date tonight? You’ll probably be the best company there.”

  “Tasha, you need to be more serious about all this,” Moira scolded. “Youth and beauty are fleeting. You take them for granted now, but one day you’ll wish you could hold on to them forever.”

  Lucas put an arm around her and walked her toward the door. “Leave her alone, dear. It’s not important now. The rest of us need to go—and yes, Christian, that includes you. To the country house. Not the ball.”

  Tasha hugged her nephew goodbye, laughing when he complained about the prickly crystals on her dress. Moira was already getting in the car, directing the guardians on where to set the luggage and ascertaining that the feeder would ride with her. Lucas wrapped Tasha in a hug and then regarded her with a look that was equal parts affection and sorrow.

  “Can we talk more about St. Croix when I see you tomorrow?” she asked eagerly.

  He hesitated. “Ah, sure. For now … try to have fun, little sister. And I hope … I hope when you look back on tonight, you’ll remember how much I love you. How much we all love you.”

  “It’s just another party, Luke,” she said, puzzled at his shift in demeanor. But then, Lucas had been behaving strangely for the last few months, his moods often darkening without warning. Two of his old classmates had died unexpectedly, one by Strigoi and one in a skiing accident. The two deaths were completely opposite in cause, but they’d hit her brother hard. She’d often find him looking at old pictures and getting caught up in philosophical discussions about mortality. She worried about him and hoped relaxing in the country would do him some good.

  When the car finally left, Tasha reluctantly put on her silver high-heeled shoes and locked the door to her family’s town house. The Summer’s End Ball was being held on the opposite side of Court, and even in her uncomfortable shoes, Tasha didn’t mind the walk on such a warm and breezy night. She and Vinh matched each other’s steps, both quiet but at ease in the other’s company as they strolled along one of the many tree-lined paths that zigzagged among the buildings of the expansive Royal Court. With its venerable architecture and grassy courtyards, it resembled a university more than a sanctuary for living vampires, but that was exactly how the Moroi wanted it. It attracted less outside attention.

  “I think it’ll rain later,” said Tasha. There were other Moroi and dhampirs out tonight, and it wouldn’t do for a young royal lady to speak even remotely informally with her guardian.

  Vinh glanced up and took note of the scattered clouds drifting across the stars and moon. “I think you’re right, but it may hold off until the ball ends. If it doesn’t, I’ll come back and get an umbrella.”

  “You don’t need to trek through the rain for me. No one’s going to hold you accountable if I get a little wet. It’s not going to bother me that much.”

  “I’d hold myself accountable if anything bothered you at all.”

  A rush of heat swept over her, and she fidgeted with her bracelet so she wouldn’t have to respond. It happened all the time with him. Just a few words or a small look, and she became flustered in the most wonderful way. It used to embarrass her. She used to try to ignore it. After all, a Moroi of her station shouldn’t think of a dhampir that way, especially now that they were out of school and in the real world. Except … every once in a while, she’d see him watching her in a way that made her think she wasn’t the only one who had trouble letting go of their past.

  The Summer’s End Ball took place in the palace, a building that matched the Court’s others on the outside but contained all the grandeur and decadence of the Moroi’s glorious history. That was part of what made this such a big event. The queen herself hosted it, and only royals attended. Ostensibly, it was to celebrate the waning of summer and the approach of fall—meaning longer nights and shorter days. Everyone knew, though, it was a chance for young, eligible royals to be paraded around one another. Engagements often followed in subsequent weeks.

  Vinh held out his hand to Tasha when they reached the steps to the palace entrance. Tasha accepted it and lifted her skirt with her other hand. That small touch of their fingers was the only contact they ever had now, but it was everything to Tasha.

  “Thank you, Vinh,” she said when she let go.

  Inside, the ballroom had become a fantasyland of colors and flowers. Real plants and trees filled the space, and glittering, star-shaped lights on the ceiling cast rainbow patterns on the party below. The guests themselves rivaled the lavish decor, with everyone seeming to try to outdo one another. Tasha’s simply cut silver-and-blue dress was one of the tamer ones.

  Around the sides of the room, mixed among the tropical splendor, guardians stood at attention, unmoving and identical in black suits and white shirts. They blended in with one another and the room—as was intended. But not Vinh. Tasha knew exactly where he was no matter where she went.

  A lot of the royals she’d graduated with at St. Vladimir’s were here, as well as Moroi from other schools or those who’d received their education at Court. They all sized one another up, checking out both prospective mates and possible rivals.

  Despite her earlier flippancy with Lucas, Tasha wasn’t immune to the role she played in her family. The Ozeras were one of the twelve royal houses, with a lineage and history honored throughout the Moroi world. No one in her family would force her to do anything she didn’t want, but she knew her friendships and romances could all affect her family’s standing and how they navigated the complex battlefield of Moroi politics. She wanted to do the right thing—truly. She worked her way through the party, speaking to as many important people as she could, dancing with young men who could be advantageous matches. She smiled. She made all the pleasant, demure conversations a royal young lady was expected to.

  But it felt hollow. There was no one she really connected with, and her heart wasn’t in her words. It must have shown to others because once, while passing a group of elderly Moroi who’d come to observe the “youngsters,” she overhead a man say, “Have you seen that up-and-coming Ozera girl? David’s daughter, God rest his soul. They haven’t put out a beauty like that in years—and they’re a good-looking bunch. But she’s just so … odd.”

  Tasha started to smile and then felt guilty. She needed to try harder. She needed to stop being odd, whatever that meant.

  “Tasha? Where have you been?”

  Jacob Zeklos, another St. Vladimir’s alum, stepped into her path and handed her a flute of champagne.

  “Tonight?” she asked.

  “No. All summer. This is supposed to be our time to party and relax before we go on to grown-up life.”

  “I’ve been here sometimes. At our estate other times.” She shrugged. “Mostly, I’m just spending time with my family.”

  “You can hang out with them anytime. But this? The prime of our lives?” He raised his own glass high, sloshing the contents, and she wondered how much champagne he’d had tonight. “This won’t last. Nobody stays young forever, and we should enjoy it. My family’s going to Bucharest next month. Come with us.”

  Tasha’s interest was momentarily piqued. Her last visit to Romania had been as a child, and she was curious to see it through more mature eyes. “Any reason? Or just taking in the galleries and castles?”

  “Only one castle—we never have to leave. One of my cousins is getting married and hosting a whole week of festivities. Party after party. Old World luxury. Unspeakable decadence.” He grinned, confirming rumors she’d heard about him getting his canines filed into narrower points. It looked ridiculous. “You won’t believe what they get the
feeders to do.”

  “Thank you, but I can’t. I’m trying to talk Lucas into letting me go snorkeling in St. Croix next month.”

  “St. Croix? Like in the Caribbean?” He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “But it’s so sunny there.”

  The sun was one of the reasons why Lucas was being obstinate, as was the fact that the group wasn’t royal. They were some of Tasha’s “bohemian” friends whom Moira thought were so unworthy. Tasha didn’t need her brother’s permission exactly, but she did need his money since he held control of their inheritance.

  “It’s worth it,” she said. “There are some amazing reefs and sea life there.”

  Jacob still looked baffled. “Do you want to be a marine biologist or something?”

  “No. I just want to see it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s there. Because it’s something in the world I haven’t experienced yet.” It was obvious this conversation was going nowhere, and Tasha searched for an escape. “Excuse me—I see my uncle and need to say hello. Good talking to you.”

  She hurried away before Jacob could stop her and waved a hand of greeting to Ronald Ozera. He wasn’t actually her uncle, but he was one of the oldest and most respected members of the Ozera clan. It was an informal custom among royals to call all older relatives “aunt” or “uncle,” just as peers often referred to each other as “cousin.”

  “Tasha.” Ronald kissed her on the cheek. “You’re a vision. I’ve been hearing your praises sung all night. Did I just see you talking to Jacob Zeklos?”

  A knowing glint shone in the older man’s eyes. He was as bad as Moira. “Yes.”

  “He’s a fine-looking young fellow, isn’t he? And his father’s building up quite a lot of influence among the Zekloses.”

  “You don’t need to do any matchmaking for me. I don’t want to make any hasty decisions.”

  It was no secret in the Ozera clan—or probably in any other—that Ronald had his eye on the throne. It wasn’t going to be vacant anytime soon, but he believed in building connections and alliances well in advance of the complicated selection process monarchs endured. She might only be his distant cousin, but she was still an Ozera and therefore of use. Like a tool, she thought.

 
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