Home.
Wading to the edge of the pond with her hand clutched in Mathias', the excitement of bringing her mate here for the first time kept her lips curled into a smile as they gazed toward her cottage. With a timber frame and washed stone in-fills, the structure was rustic and modest, but also comfortable.
Ivy vines wrapped around the wooden support columns of the porch and covered a good deal of the thatched roof. Handmade ornaments crafted from natural materials hung from low-lying branches surrounding the yard, most of which served magical purposes such as protection.
Excited to see it all again, she turned to Mathias and asked, “What do you think?”
The vampire looked around with a fond smile and admitted, “It looks like a place one might expect to find a fae, saying they knew what to expect. Did you build it yourself?”
“Not entirely. That Ferine clan I mentioned helped,” she admitted. “I've also had it renovated over the years, so there's plumbing and electricity fed by the solar panels on the roof.”
Mathias was now smiling warmly, admitting, “I'd like the full tour once the sun sets this evening.”
Despite her excitement over the prospect, Isadora frowned. His mention of sunset reminded her that she’d be spending the day alone, though the thought also posed an interesting question she hesitantly asked.
“At the risk of sounding stupid, if you're spending the day underground, do we have to dig a hole?”
Suddenly, the vampire let a sharp laugh, his tone laced with mirth in answering, “No, sweet fae. I only have to turn into mist and seep into the earth.”
Her lips parted in discovery, head slowly nodding. “I didn't think of that, and at least it gives us a little more time before you have to go.”
“It does,” he agreed, wrapping an arm around her lower back in adding, “and don't think I won't lament spending the day away from you, even after having your company for the past two.”
His closeness combined with the deep tone of his voice rattled her, making it nearly impossible to focus on what he'd said. But the words did register, the sentiment dazing her so thoroughly she didn't realize he'd produced the enchanted vial taken from the Citadel's blood pantry until he was slipping it into her hand.
After arriving in Terra, she'd forgotten all about her curiosity over his reasons for obtaining it, and also didn't understand why he was giving it to her now, asking, “What's this?”
Somewhat hesitantly, Mathias admitted, “If there's a chance today, I'd like for you to obtain some draconian blood from Dalris.”
Her gaze darted up at the vampire in confusion. “What? Why?”
Sighing in a manner that proved he knew how it sounded, he explained, “I want it for you, in case drinking my blood causes a problem.”
Hearing this, her brow creased uncertainly, though she understood why draconian blood would be helpful for the plan they'd discussed at the Citadel.
Yet his request had her asking, “Then … you've decided to try?”
The vampire grumbled under his breath before admitting, “I've considered it thoroughly over these past few days, Isadora, and you were right about me. I haven't always trusted my instincts, though there's something else I haven't told you.”
“What?” she asked, exceedingly curious, and his agitated tone proved the answer wasn't to his liking.
“The first time we made love, I felt as if something was … missing. It was a strange, irritating sensation, and after spending these past few days with you, it's grown stronger, gnawing at me constantly. It wasn't until Marlese suggested feeding you blood that it made any sense, and despite how I argued against it, deep down the thought of it actually seemed right.”
Holding her gaze, he concluded, “But I can't throw caution to the wind, Isadora, and I won't. So I'm trusting your instincts in this, and thought having a bit of draconian blood wouldn't hurt, just in case.”
His confession had her heart fluttering with emotion, and not just because of the warmth in his gaze or his consideration of her safety. It was also fulfilling to know he trusted her insight when he didn’t have enough faith in himself, making it easy to agree to his request.
“Don't worry, I'll visit Dalris today and explain everything. But before you go, I should admit, there's something I didn't tell you, and after hearing this, I wish I had.”
“Oh?”
Nodding, she continued, “Ever since Marlese suggested drinking your blood, I've thought about my sisters who've found mates in beings that turn mortals, like Adriana. She's mated to a werewolf, but even though he marked her, she's still a fae.”
With that said, Isadora shrugged and concluded, “So why would drinking your blood change me?”
As if she'd said precisely what he needed to hear, the vampire exhaled low and smiled, reaching up to draw his fingers along her jaw with a heartfelt response.
“I can't think of any reason this would be different. I only know that despite our brief time together, I've never felt this kind of connection to anyone, and I've already crossed the point of no return.”
Confused, she shook her head. “What do you mean?”
Slowly, he leaned in until their foreheads met, answering, “Without a lover, a vampire's heart stops, sweet fae, and no amount of blood would be enough to restore it.”
Isadora stared up at him, having had no idea that could happen to a vampire—though it also wasn't surprising. The mate's bond was a powerful, life altering tie for any supernatural being, leaving one incapable of going on without the other, particularly where immortals were concerned.
Not even a fae could continue on without their partner. Instead, they returned to nature, disappearing into the wilds never to be seen again.
Isadora already knew such a fate awaited her if she ever lost Mathias, and yet, the dread accompanying the thought was much sharper than expected. Despair tore at her heart so mercilessly her grip on the vampire tightened, and it wasn't just a matter of going on without him.
She also couldn't stand the idea of him being hurt for any reason, reminding her of the question she'd been asking herself since they left Paris.
Now, the answer was clear. I'm definitely falling in love with him.
The way he held her as they kissed amplified the sensation. She felt cherished in his arms, safe, and wanted that feeling to go on all day. Sadly, the impending sunrise left no time for showing affection, let alone a heartfelt confession.
So she muttered instead, “I wish you didn't have to go.”
The comment put a smile on his face. “I'm sorry, sweet fae, but I'll be with you again as soon as the sun sets.”
Realizing this wasn't easy for him either, Isadora leaned up for a quick kiss, deciding she was actually fortunate in a way. Few vampires had a lover capable of protecting them during the day, and she would definitely make sure Mathias remained safe.
Yet he distracted her from the matter by releasing her to start the process of disrobing. At first, the task seemed strange, and Isadora stared at his muscular body for several moments before realizing that sleeping underground would only make the garments dirty.
Sadly, the sight of the vampire's naked physique had her aching in no time, and she diverted her gaze to the lightening sky, asking a question to distract herself from physical matters.
“You'll be hungry when you wake up, won't you?”
Mathias didn't immediately answer, and she soon found her chin captured between his thumb and forefinger as he turned her head to press a gentle kiss against her lips.
Though brief, her pulse sped up when he then murmured, “For more than blood, yes.”
His response was equal parts thrilling and frustrating, but the look in his silver eyes had her batting his hand away.
“You're teasing me on purpose!”
Chuckling, the vampire asked innocently, “What makes you say that?”
Isadora giggled despite her frustration, still finding his playfulness surprising. Perhaps it was just a matter of ad
justing to the changes between them, and if so, she could only wonder what else she'd learn about her vampire as time went on.
But for now, she dismissed him with a grin and a wave of her hand.
“Just … go to bed already!”
“As you wish,” he murmured with a warm smile, giving her one last kiss as his body was turning to mist.
The wisp of sensation against her lips as the pressure of his mouth faded away had her eyes opening to spy the cloud of vapor gathering over the ground several yards from the pond before seeping into the earth. In the process, she hurried the words, “G'night, Mathias!” though it was questionable whether he heard them.
Still, despite being left alone, she didn't actually feel lonely. On the contrary, her spirits were as high as the first rays of light breaking over the tree limbs above.
The thought curled her lips into a smile. There was no way of knowing what the future held, or if drinking Mathias' blood would cause her harm. But she was eager to find out, quietly removing her clothing before lying upon the grass where he'd disappeared.
In turn, vines sprouted from the earth, wrapping around her with tiny, golden veins branching out across her body, nourishing it until her skin turned green. The connection offered comfort in the vampire's absence, allowing her to rest peacefully knowing the man she loved was just below … .
— THIRTY-FIVE —
Sleeping underground was never comfortable, and being separated from Isadora made it even more disagreeable. Yet Mathias drifted off quickly for a simple reason—his ability to sense his lover's presence only a few feet above.
Knowing she was there waiting for him to rise in the evening was comforting, and his only lingering doubts were those regarding the thought of feeding her blood.
Still, after spending the past two days in Isadora's company, he was more convinced than ever that it was the right thing to do. So all that remained was acquiring draconian blood as a precaution.
But that was an issue for later, and as his heart slowed to a stop due to the lack of breathable oxygen underground, he drifted off while focusing on his lover's presence, blissfully unaware as the sun beat down on the ground above.
At least, for the first half of the day.
-Mathias.-
The faint whisper came from what felt like a great distance, though it was potent enough to rouse him to a foggy state of consciousness. Even more strangely, the woman's voice possessed a dreamlike quality—just as he'd heard in Sutrelle.
But this time, there wasn't a fae next to him that might've been talking in her sleep.
So who'd spoken to him, and how? Not only was he incapable of dreaming, he was also isolated underground where no one's voice should've sounded so clearly.
And yet, the woman spoke to him again, this time with a command.
-Come to me, Mathias.-
Though issued gently, as the words repeated, they grew more insistent. Mathias tried to ignore them, digging his fingers into the earth while focusing on Isadora's presence to calm his disordered thoughts. Yet he couldn't detect the fae, and the strange voice wouldn't stop, the sound building in volume and demand.
-Don't resist … .-
With those last words came the sensation of being pulled away, leaving him more unsettled than ever. Mathias growled in response, confusion and doubt flooding his mind until his glowing red eyes opened to an unexpected sight—the upholstered roof of a canopy bed. What the fuck is this?
Gaze darting at his surroundings, it soon became evident that the better question was where. Still covered in a thin layer of dirt from sleeping underground, he was now lying upon a soft mattress in a lavish boudoir.
Whoever it belonged to, they'd spared no expense decorating the windowless chamber with silk drapes and large pillows, most of which were emerald green. But the luxurious surroundings did nothing to offer comfort, and Mathias quickly sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
Simultaneously, an airy, feminine chuckle sounded behind him, and he promptly threw his gaze at the far side of the room.
There, seated upon a cushioned chaise, was a woman dressed in green silks with one arm draped across the pillow and a crystal goblet of golden liquid clutched in her hand. Every inch of her body had been meticulously tended, from her red nails to her neatly styled golden blonde hair, and she smiled as if greeting an old friend.
“I apologize for waking you in the afternoon with a magical summoning, Mathias,” she started, “but once I sensed your presence in Terra, I couldn't pass up an opportunity to speak with you in private as soon as possible.”
Ignoring his nudity, Mathias stood from the bed and spun around to face the woman, nearly demanding to know where he was and how she knew his name.
But her gaze stopped him in his tracks.
Though this woman had the face of a stranger, her coy smile underscored a pair of vivid green eyes—complete with a set of radiant halos.
Had his heart been beating, it would've sunk into the pit of his stomach, particularly when she inquired, “You don't recognize me, do you?”
“Should I?” he heard himself asking indifferently despite his vast uncertainty—no matter how familiar those eyes were, he simply couldn't allow himself to believe what he was seeing.
“All things considered, I suppose not, though I'd hoped you would after looking into my eyes.” Idly drawing one finger around the rim of her goblet, she added with a shrug, “No matter. I brought you here to offer an explanation, which involves an introduction. So to start, the face you see now is that of Sylva Abbott.”
With that said, she pointed at her eyes by tapping an index against her temple before continuing, “But these? As they say, the eyes are a window into the soul, and you'd best know mine as the Grand Priestess.”
Deep down, Mathias already knew as much, but how could the woman before him be both Sylva Abbott, and the Grand Priestess?
The idea was absurd to the point that he started, “That's—”
“Impossible?” she supplied, then chuckled in a manner that said he had no idea, returning easily enough, “Impossible is a matter of perspective, Mathias.”
“But how? The Grand Priestess disappeared nearly five thousand years ago, long before Sylva Abbot was even born!”
Her gaze darkened at his statement, smile fading as she glanced down at her drink. Lifting it to her red lips to down what remained followed by tossing the glass across the room to shatter against the floor, she muttered, “I know, and the circumstances were not agreeable.”
With that said, she stood and approached the bed, heels clicking against the marble floor until she rounded the corner and stopped only a few feet away. In the process, her harsh mien softened as she looked him over, a warm smile lifting the corners of her mouth in adding, “But though I've changed, you still look exactly as you did when you came to my chambers seeking approval for a blooding.”
The words were sentimental, as if recalling a much happier time in her life. But Mathias didn't care, still too bewildered not to demand, “How the fuck do you remember that?”
Folding her arms together, Sylva stated simply, “Before I answer, you need to know more about the Grand Priestess. She once said you hadn't earned the privilege of knowing her name, but you never got the chance before she vanished, and after all that's happened, I think the answer should be clear.”
As if instructing him on some important matter, she waved a hand and asked, “So tell me, who do you think the Grand Priestess truly was?”
Reluctantly, Mathias answered her question honestly despite the vast hope that his instincts were wrong.
“Kalara.”
To his dismay, a bright smile curled Sylva's red lips. “Precisely. The Grand Priestess was Kalara, the Goddess of Envy.”
Unable to easily process her claim, Mathias stared at the witch for several silent moments before his head dipped, body sinking down to the mattress. After all his questions, all the uncertainty, her answer weighed too heavily to r
emain standing, and he wasn't sure he believed it, or even wanted to.
Yet he couldn't dismiss the possibility that she was telling the truth, listening as Sylva further qualified, “I know how hard this is to hear, and I sympathize.”
“You sympathize?” he remarked disbelievingly, glancing over at her face as the witch knelt before him. “You're trying to convince me that a goddess was parading as a nameless mortal for … what? Amusement?”
“No, and she hadn't taken physical form by choice,” Sylva began. “So allow me to tell you the full story, and perhaps then, everything will make sense, or at least seem easier to handle.”
As if controlled by another, Mathias nodded for her to continue despite doubting anything she said would help him cope with this discovery.
“Ages ago, Kalara was cast from Divinity for a bit of trickery meant to impress another deity she … fancied. Sadly, her trick went too far, and despite attempts to rectify her mistake, she was banished to live forever as a physical being in punishment for her actions.”
As she spoke, the witch's green eyes took on a sad light in adding, “Kalara had no interest in causing problems, yet she was forced to survive alone for centuries until meeting a mortal farmer who proved both caring and loyal.”
Knowingly, Mathias supplied, “Artair.”
“Yes,” Sylva confirmed with a fond smile. “He was determined, dedicated, and provided me … or her, with companionship. So she granted him immortality by feeding him her divine blood, creating the first vampire.”
Hearing this, Mathias was stunned, but only because Artair's story finally made sense. He'd said the goddess herself fed him blood, but it was hard to believe without knowing Kalara had been forced into taking physical form—saying this was even the truth.
But he didn't interrupt, watching Sylva's smile fade and her eyes lift upward as if to glance at Divinity in relating, “But the pantheon frowned on this. The gods could take physical form whenever they pleased, but to feed a mortal the blood of their body? That was taboo beyond measure, and they warned Kalara not to continue creating such abominations.”
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