Strange sounds came from the other side, low grunting and shuffling. What could Avrum possibly be doing in there?
Haven turned the handle and pushed open the door. Avrum was the first thing she saw, standing frozen in the center of the large space. He stared at her in both surprise and in horror. His arm fell to his side as if it had suddenly been weighted with lead, and the sword in his hand clattered on the floor by his feet.
“Haven,” he gasped, his eyes jumping from her to the attic around him.
“You seem surprised to see me.” She stepped inside. The broken windows exposed the gray sky beyond them. There was a metal trunk and a pile of dirty, stained bandages on the floor beside it. The sharp smell of sweat mixed with dust and blood cluttered the air.
“I… am.” Avrum picked up his sword and brought it across the room to the metal trunk, his back facing her.
Haven crossed the room, moving from board to board until she stood behind him. She jabbed him in the shoulder with a finger, feeling nothing but solid muscle.
His body shot upright, but still he didn’t turn to face her.
“What did my father say?” she demanded.
Avrum opened the trunk, which she saw was full of other weapons, and threw his own into it.
“Avrum,” she started, her patience wearing thin, “didn’t you visit my father? Did you give him my message?”
Then, he turned, his expression solemn. He wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand and sighed. “Who told you where I was?” he asked.
“I don’t know his name. I think he is your friend and part of the guard.”
“Lysander…”
“What does that even matter, Avrum?” she said, her annoyance reaching its peak. What was he hiding from her? “Why didn’t you come to my room? What did my father say?”
She watched many emotions cross Avrum’s face―worry, pity, confusion, desperation―but still his lips remained clamped shut. Her heart dropped, and in that instant, her feelings flipped. Something wasn’t right. She could see the truth in his eyes. “Avrum…” Her voice shook. “What is it…”
“Oh, Haven,” he muttered, and his tone confirmed her worst fears. “Your father…He’s...”
“No…” He didn’t have to say the rest. It echoed in her ears as if he had screamed it at her. “Avrum, please. No...”
“I am sorry, Haven,” Avrum said, stepping forward. “I went to your home and your father… He had passed away.”
“No! He isn’t dead! He can’t be!” she cried out. Her head spun, and her body numbed.
Avrum reached out to touch her. “Haven…”
She slapped his hand away. “Do not touch me!”
“He must have passed in his sleep,” said Avrum, his tone still gentle. “He was lying on the mattress covered by a blanket. He seemed peaceful.”
Haven felt the tears cascading down her cheeks. “When?” she yelled, reaching her hands out to steady herself if she should faint. She found the wall and leaned against it. “When could this have happened?”
“It couldn’t have been too long ago―” His words caught in his throat as her head jerked toward him.
“Not too long ago?” she repeated with venom. “Do you mean like two nights ago? The same night that I wanted to go see him, but you stopped me and brought me back here!”
His eyes widened.
“I could have seen him before he died.” Her vision blurred as more tears fell, but they didn’t cool her anger. “You bastard! I could have helped him!” She threw herself at him, fists pounding at his solid chest. She struck him with all her might. “You bastard! I’ll kill you for this! I’ll kill you!”
He called out for her to stop, but it only seemed to fuel her more.
“It’s your fault he’s dead! You could have let me see him!”
Avrum stepped back, but she followed him, trying to strike him again with her fists.
“Haven, please, let me explain.”
“No, no, no!” She shook her head, her dark hair whipping across her flushed, wet cheeks. “I’m done with all these lies! I should have never trusted you.”
Haven took a great step toward him, her shoulders rigid. Her skin shimmered, catching every speck of light coming from the frost-covered window. “You are just like the rest of them. A monster.”
“I am not,” he replied. “You have to listen to―”
“You are just like Henri.” Haven pronounced every word on its own, giving each one power. “Just like him.”
Avrum’s face contorted in front of her eyes. His pupils dilated, growing large and larger until nothing was left of his eyes but complete blackness. The corners of his mouth twitched, pulling back and exposing two sharpened canine teeth. Haven gasped in horror. What had she done? This wasn’t the same man she had grown to know. He really did look like a monster.
A feral snarl escaped his throat.
Haven tried to swing at him again, but his hand came up with unnatural speed. He snatched both her wrists in midair. He threw his weight into her and pressed her body against the wall. He pinned her hands above her head.
Haven tried jerking her hands free, but Avrum held on tight. Panic made her pulse quicken. It drummed against his fingers, and he looked down at her hungrily. He dipped his head. His mouth hovered near the curve of her neck, causing goosebumps to crawl up and down her skin. Not knowing what else to do, she squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the piecing pain of his fangs in her throat.
“You think I am like Henri,” said Avrum, his voice coming out in a low rumble. “I can be like Henri. I can tie you to my bed, just like this.” His fingers squeezed her wrists tighter together until she whimpered. Stinging pain shot from her wrists to her elbows. “I can have my way with you whenever I please.”
Haven turned her head away from him. It only exposed her neck even more. Avrum ran his soft lips from her creamy shoulder to her jaw, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Her body twisted under him and her chest inflated with held breath.
“Leave you scarred and bruised. Drink from you until I had my fill.” Avrum’s fangs scraped against her, and her body trembled. “I could kill you easily. Even now.”
“Do it. Kill me,” she told him, opening her eyes again. When Avrum lifted his head, her gaze locked with his. “I have nothing more to live for, Avrum. Kill me. Get it over with. Please.”
Avrum stared at her for a long while, saying nothing. Slowly, his eyes returned to their normal soft brown color. He released her wrists, and his attention dropped to her parted lips. Haven remained still as his hand slid down her arm and entangled in her hair. His mouth pressed against hers with such desperation that it stole her breath away. She could feel his body soften against hers, the anger gone. His tongue ran along the seam of her lips, and she opened for him, enjoying the little explosions of heat that spread throughout her body in every place his skin touched.
He took his time kissing her, his movements never rough, but tender and full of need. Then, he released her lips and pressed his forehead against hers. Her breath came in short, quick gasps as he looked down at her. “I would never do any of those terrible things to you,” Avrum whispered to her, “because I am not like him.”
“I know,” she said softly. “I should have never said it.”
“I would never do anything to hurt you. I need you here, Haven. I need you here with me.”
Haven’s heart clenched. He wasn’t like Henri at all. His touches were gentle and slow. She wondered how she could ever compare the two. There was no fear, no pain with him. Haven tilted her chin and captured his mouth with hers again. He kissed her with just as much fervor as before, which made her knees weak and her head swim. A pleasant hum coursed through her, and the desire to feel him closer to her became overwhelming. She wanted him. She wanted him more than anything else.
Avrum’s hand ran up her back, causing her to arch forward and press more into his hard chest. His lips traveled along her jaw. A small whimper escaped her.
She could feel his fingers grasping the strings at the nape of her neck. He pulled them until the knot gave way. His hand moved along her shoulder, taking the thin cotton material of the nightgown with it.
Haven twisted her hips, heat pooling at her center. Her nightgown slid down her arms, settling around her hips. The cool attic air kissed her newly exposed flesh, and it wasn’t long before Avrum’s hands were on her again, cupping her breasts and running up and down her flat belly. Haven almost cried out from the sheer pleasure of it.
She knotted her hands in his shoulder-length hair, the tie falling away. She had never felt anything like this before. It felt like her skin was crawling with electricity and simplest touch could send her over the edge.
* * *
Avrum could have touched her forever. She was beyond beautiful, and now that she stood before him half-naked and exposed to him, he felt that there wasn’t another woman in the world who could ever match. Her breasts were full, and rose and fell with the slightest intake of breath. Her waist was small, but then curved out at the hips. Just looking at her this way made his pants tighten and his heart race.
Haven’s hands fiddled with the buttons of his shirt, and once they were undone, Avrum slid out of it and tossed it to the side. When she went for the fastens on his pants next, he kissed her again. Haven reached between them and released him fully. One of her long legs rose and wrapped around his waist. She swiveled her hips, brushing against the tip of his length. He growled.
Avrum pressed against her opening, ready to give her all of him.
“Avrum...”
“Yes,” he breathed.
“I... I’ve never been touched by any man before.”
“Do you want me not to?”
“No,” she said. “Don’t stop.”
He entered her. The feeling of her thin inner barrier made him pause. As he locked her into another passionate kiss, he pushed his way inside her tightness. Haven inhaled sharply as he stretched her. Avrum left a trail of hot kisses on her neck, making her moan again. Her head rolled back and her eyes closed. She began to grind her hips against him, and he clenched his teeth to keep in control of himself.
He kept his slow rhythm, moving deeper and deeper with every gentle thrust. With her skin so close to his lips, he could feel her blood running underneath, smell it too―sharp and sweet. He felt his fangs begin to descend again, but he fought against it. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Haven, even if the creature inside him wanted her in both body and in blood.
Haven turned her head away again, revealing her neck. In an instant, Avrum’s eyes found the artery tinted a purplish-blue under her rosy skin. He couldn’t, he kept telling himself. He didn’t need it.
Haven’s nails bit into his hip, urging him to go faster, and he did, groaning as he slipped in and out of her warmth. He felt her muscles clenching around him. Her hands flew to his back, running up and down his spine. She let out a shaken cry that sounded a lot like his name, and with it, he felt his end nearing.
He finished with his face resting in the hollow of her neck, inhaling the smell of her, like crisp morning rain and lilacs. After a long moment of just enjoying the feeling of her body in his arms, her feet touched the ground, and she stood on her own again.
Avrum studied her face, afraid of what she might think of him now. Without looking at him, she moved away from the wall, pulling down the bottom of her nightgown and lifting the thin straps over her shoulders. Her dark hair fell over them, slightly mused. When she finally glanced at him again, he noticed that her eyes seemed to glow a bit brighter than they had before.
He couldn’t help but smile as he dressed himself quickly. He wanted to say something profound, something incredibly romantic, to tell her just how much she meant to him. When he opened his mouth to speak, his nerves got the better of him. Instead, he went over to the weapon trunk beside her.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he rummaged through the many daggers, swords, and axes. He pulled out a short sword and examined the blade. It was light in weight, and from what Lysander had told him, it was easy to wield for a defensive attack. He held it out to her.
“Take this,” he told her. The real words he wanted to say to her hovered close to his tongue. “It is short enough to be concealed in your boot or under your skirts, but sharp enough to protect you during our escape.”
Haven’s brow wrinkled with confusion.
Avrum tilted the handle more toward her and offered her a small smile. “Take it… for more protection.”
She reached out and took it, a blush touching her cheeks. “Thank you, Avrum.”
His hand closed around hers on the handle. “I was not lying when I said I needed you with me, Haven,” he whispered. “You see, I—”
Haven leaned forward, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. “I need you too, Avrum,” she said and kissed him again.
9
Feeling too stiff in the feather-cushioned seat, Haven tried to focus her attention onto the circular room. The tables that were once occupied by Henri’s party guests now sat empty and bare of all decorations. There was no band playing a sweet melody against the far wall, no dancing, no laughter. There was only Henri, who sat beside her at the long, head table, slicing through the roast on his plate and placing it on his tongue in silence.
Haven looked at her own plate, seeing the untouched loaf of bread, roast, potatoes, and greens. A thick knot still sat in the pit of her belly, the same one that had formed when Avrum told her about her father’s death. Before she had come to dinner, she spent the passing hours in her room, laying face down on her bed and weeping silently into the quilt until her body shook. Even now, as she stared at the place setting before her, she could feel her eyes begin to sting.
She couldn’t cry. Not now, she told herself, not in front of Henri. She forced the thought of him out of her mind and let her gaze travel the length of the grand staircase. At the top, Keagan stood at attention with his hands behind his back and his spine straight. He peered down his hooked nose at her and smirked, exposing pointed teeth.
With goose bumps beginning to crawl over her skin, Haven looked to the only other way out of the ballroom. In front of the side door, the man she had spoke to before―Lysander―stood there. His hooded eyes looked straight ahead, but seemed to see nothing at all. His features were hard and stolid. She wondered where his loyalty lay, and how Avrum was able to trust him so freely.
The thought of Avrum made Haven’s cheeks flame. Every muscle in her body tensed as the memory of what they had shared in the attic room rushed back to her. She didn’t know how it had happened, or why it was so hard to push the thought of him out of her head. But it was, and so was the desire to see him again.
Henri’s eyes flickered her way. Haven held her breath as much as her tight bodice would allow and hoped that he couldn’t somehow sense her apprehension. She picked up her fork, poking at the potatoes on her plate. Only when he went back to his own meal did she feel like it was safe to inhale again.
If Henri found out about what she and Avrum had done, her chances of escaping would be crushed. Haven ran her hands over the crimson-colored dress that had been chosen for her to wear. She felt too hot under its velvet fabric. If she could just get through this dinner, the next two nights, and the party—then she, Emma, and Avrum would be out of this place forever. Gone.
Henri snatched her hand from her lap, making her gasp. Her eyes snapped to his piercing black stare. “Stop your fidgeting,” he muttered, but then guided her hand to his lips. He kissed the back of it. “My dear Haven, you haven’t touched your dinner.” He let go of her, reaching for his glass of wine instead.
Haven willed herself to give him an apologetic smile. She waited for him to finish sipping his wine before answering. “I’m sorry, my lord, but I am not very hungry this evening.” She rolled the words over again in her head and prayed that they didn’t sound offensive in some way.
Henri put down the wineglass a little too
hard, causing a hollow thud against the ivory tablecloth and a few ruby drops to slide down the side. His face, though, remained cool and unbothered. “This has turned out to be a nice evening, hasn’t it?” he said. His thumb ran up the glass, catching one of the trails before it could reach the cloth underneath. The color stained the tip of his white gloves. The memory of her own blood on his fingers made her ill.
“Yes…” She swallowed roughly. “It has.”
He turned in his seat toward her, and his hand came to the side of her face. “You have to be the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.” His thumb touched her bottom lip. Haven could feel the wetness of the wine droplet, could vaguely taste the bitterness, as he traced the outline of her mouth with it. “And you are entirely mine.”
The sound of knocking made her jump and Henri’s head whip toward the side door. Only when Henri nodded did Lysander open it, revealing Avrum standing in there. Haven froze in her chair. He seemed even more handsome now than when she had seen him last. He had changed out of his damp white shirt and now wore an emerald green jacquard vest, an undershirt with a ruffled collar, and black slacks. His hair had been brushed and tied neatly back, but his eyes sparkled with mischief.
He exchanged looks with Lysander before stepping into the room.
“Avrum,” Henri greeted, gesturing him to come forward. “Let’s make this quick. As you can see, I’m in the middle of dinner.”
When Avrum stood at the opposite side of the table, his gaze met with hers first. There was a dreamy cast to his brown eyes, as if his thoughts lay elsewhere. She wondered if they had retreated to their lovemaking in the attic.
Haven forced herself to look away, hoping Avrum would do the same. From the corner of her eye, she saw him bow low.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your meal, my lord,” he said to Henri. To her relief, his voice didn’t waver. “I wanted to tell you last of the arrangements I have made for the event this Saturday night.”
Haven glanced at Henri, who leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers against the table beside his plate. She tried to read his face. His smoldering coal eyes stayed fixed on Avrum and his thin upper lip twitched in annoyance. There was a long pause between them, and in that stillness, Haven felt all chances of escaping slip away.
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