by Cameo Renae
“It’s the first time Trystan has ever claimed anyone,” Andrés replied with his dimpled grin. “And he’s at the top of the royalty’s most eligible list.”
Melaina’s head snapped to Andrés, giving him a death stare that caused the hair on my neck to stand erect. Her finger directed at me, but her eyes glowered at him and then turned on each of the others.
“What Trystan did to her was wrong,” she roared. “She should have been given a choice. I mean, good goddess! He took her mortality without her permission.”
“Watch your words, Melaina,” Kylan replied calmly, throwing her a frigid glare.
She snorted at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m free to say whatever I want. He employed me, remember? And he is not my prince. I have no loyalty to him.”
Melaina’s temper was just as fiery as her hair. Through the flames and smoke, her jade eyes found mine again. “If these guys give you trouble, feel free to come to me. I have a means of keeping them in line.”
I nodded, wondering . . . “Are you part of Trystan’s cadre?”
Melaina choked on a snort. “Goddess, no. I’m just a witch, employed for my awesome magical skills to keep you alive.”
“Witch?” I gasped. First, vampires. Now a witch?
“Yep. I’m the one who warded this cavern and placed an invisibility spell on the entrance. No one can enter here without my permission.”
“She may look like a delicate thing,” Brone said from his spot next to Melaina, “but she’s one of the most powerful witches in Talbrinth.”
Melaina shrugged, but then nodded. So, I had to add . . . “Are you a vampire too?”
“Me? Vampire?” Melaina snarled as if I’d cursed at her. Her eyes skimmed over the guys, then her head bent back as she let out a sharp-pitched laugh. “I am one hundred percent human. I eat real food and will eventually die of old age, and would have it no other way. And if any bloodsucker tries to bite me,” her eyes prowled the group again, “I’ll make them suffer . . . before I change them into some shit feeding, belly crawling animal.”
The four assassins remained silent, but I could see fire stirring in Brone’s eyes as he sharpened his dagger, extra slowly, with a flat stone he’d plucked off the ground. I wondered if he’d stick the witch with it.
I caught Feng and Andrés glancing at each other with smirks on their faces, but Kylan’s expression remained one of boredom.
“So,” I said hastily, trying to diffuse the rising tension. “Is there some awesome getaway plan, or are we staying in this cave until things blow over?”
Brone ignored me, continuing to whet his dagger. Andrés kept his gaze on the fire as if he were mesmerized by the dancing flames, while Feng drew Asiatic symbols in the dirt with a stick.
“We are awaiting Trystan’s orders,” Kylan finally answered. “And we will remain here until we receive them.”
Great. Trystan, who was supposedly thousands of miles away. “How can you get orders from him if he’s still in Carpathia?”
“I can channel him,” Melaina replied. “Before we left Carpathia, I linked myself to him. It’s the easiest way to connect.” She stirred a small pot that had been simmering over the fire. The pleasant aroma of meat and spices wafted to my nose, making my mouth water. “You’re welcome to have some if you’d like, but it’ll make you sick.”
“Sick? Why?” My stomach rumbled at the temptation.
“No offense,” she said, rolling her eyes, “but you’re different now. If you ingest regular food, you’ll vomit. It’s all part of your new immortal package.” Her voice had a bite to it that stung me. “Most new bloodsuckers can’t resist the scent of mortal food, especially with your heightened sense of smell. Those who are weak, engorge, and later find themselves puking their guts out. It’s part of the curse.”
“It’s about how one regards it,” Feng spoke, finishing a symbol in the dirt.
Melaina shrugged her shoulders before spooning some broth and raising it to her lips. When she sipped, her eyes closed and she let out a subdued moan. “I can’t say that I blame any bloodsucker who does partake of solid food, though. The taste of it is a luxury compared to that disgusting bodily fluid you all drink to survive. How can anyone live off one food source forever? That would suck. Literally.”
Feng raised his mahogany eyes to mine and smiled. “After some time, you’ll become desensitized to mortal fare. Once you do, you’ll find that you will appreciate and enjoy life for what it’s worth. Yes, being immortal has its blemishes, but so does being mortal. It’s in how one regards his or her own journey. To see beyond the gilded masks man has created . . . the commodities and frills which devalue the raw beauty of life and nature and everything it has to offer. Things that truly matter.”
I offered Feng a sweet smile, grateful that he’d thrown me some wise words of instruction and encouragement. Because, fact was, I wasn’t mortal anymore. I would have to learn to survive off blood for the rest of my life. But I was hopeful, because they were here, proving it could be done.
“Feng,” Melaina purred, placing a hand over her heart. “You have such a way with words.”
“I’m a realist,” he replied, shifting his attention back to his symbols in the dirt.
“How long does it take? To no longer crave human food anymore?” I asked Feng while trying not to focus on the stew, which was invading my enhanced sense of smell.
“For me, it took about five years.”
“Five years?” I practically choked on the words. I expected maybe a few months . . . but years? Heavens above! The thought made me want to punch Trystan in the throat.
All of them laughed, and it made my blood simmer.
“In immortal years, it’s nothing but a breath,” Kylan added. “Besides, everyone is different. You could adapt a lot sooner.”
I bit my tongue because I didn’t want anything else I said to be dissected.
“I’m going to rest,” Brone said, standing and stretching his extra-large frame. He snatched his pack, quickly scanned the cavern, then headed for a spot at the far-left edge.
“I thought vampires didn’t need sleep.” It was in one of the books I’d read.
Kylan chuckled. “We require just as much sleep as mortals do. Sleep helps our bodies to repair and rejuvenate.”
“Oh.” I swallowed hard, wondering how many of the tales I’d read gave incorrect information.
Feng also stood without speaking a word, but angled toward me, giving me a modest bow and smile before he seized his pack. He claimed a small alcove on the opposite side of the cave from Brone. After smoothing out the ground, he set a small blanket down before plucking out a small piece of wood from his satchel, along with a small, sharpened blade. His mahogany eyes were narrowed and fixated, twisting the wood in his fingers. Then he started carving it. I was curious as to what Feng envisioned that lump of wood to be. Time would tell . . . if I survived until then.
“Want some?” Melaina asked, reaching toward me with a small bowl of stew.
“No, thank you,” I sighed. “I don’t feel like being sick, and I don’t think anyone in here needs to hear me puking all night.”
She drew the bowl back and set it in her lap. “I understand . . . and I’m pretty sure everyone else in this cave is grateful for your decision.”
“I’m exceptionally thankful.” Brone’s low voice reverberated against the far side as he set his tattered blanket between a few huge boulders. “It’s a wretched sound, especially when one is tired.” He plunked down, then laid back, tucking his arms behind his head and closed his eyes.
Brone was someone I’d want on my side if I were ever in a bind. Just his mere presence — his towering, massive frame corded with muscles—exuded power. He looked like a warrior who had slaughtered countless enemies in battle.
“You should get some sleep too,” Kylan suggested, combing a hand through his thick raven hair. His eyes captured mine and my stomach fluttered. “Your body is still adapting to becoming
immortal. You’ll require a lot of rest over these next few days.”
“When will she start training?” Andrés asked.
Kylan gathered his things and threw his sack over his shoulder. “She’ll need to master the basics as soon as she’s up for it. Nothing too arduous.”
“She knows nothing?” Brone questioned, his head rising.
I cleared my throat, letting them know I was still sitting there, listening. “I know how to defend myself if that’s what you’re asking. I was trained by a soldier.”
“A mortal soldier,” Brone mocked with a cynical grin.
I took offense. “Yes, a mortal. And he is highly skilled in warfare.”
Grant Willbrow was nine years my senior. He was tall, tanned, handsome, and well educated in war and weaponry. His father was a miner who was employed by my father. When my father made mention, he wanted me to learn self-defense, the elder Mr. Willbrow suggested his son.
Having wealth in Sartha, with still so many poor, came with a price. Many thieves robbed and even killed over a few gold skrag. So, my father wanted me to learn to defend myself and made sure I always carried a small, sharp dagger with me.
For a full year, after my tenth birthday, Grant came a few days a week and taught me every self-defense strategy he learned. He even showed me where it would be best to strike a man if I were ever attacked. I hadn’t been strong enough to knock anyone out, but I could hurt them well enough for a chance to flee a dangerous situation.
As the year progressed, I’d found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on my movements while staring into Grant’s beautiful chestnut eyes. But he never showed any interest in me. I was just a child back then. Brynna was right. It was a one-sided infatuation.
Brone’s brow raised. “Tomorrow, we shall see how well of a trainer your human was.”
“I suppose you will,” I puffed.
Melaina shook her head and snickered. “I can’t wait to see that.”
“You know, witch,” Brone said carefully from his space, eyes closed. “There might be some things you could learn too. What would happen if your magic is suppressed? You should consider training with her.”
I was awaiting a sarcastic remark from Melaina, but her response startled me. And probably all the others.
“I’ll consider it,” she answered.
Chapter Six
The vampires prepared their beds in key areas around the cave as an added security measure should anyone enter. But with Melaina’s ward and glamour over the entrance, I was confident we would be safe for the night and could sleep peacefully.
Melaina and I made our beds near the fire. The ground was solid and rocky, so I did my best to clear my area of any rocks that would make for a miserable sleep. I spread out my blanket and used my pack for a pillow. Melaina did the same on her side, grumbling out-loud the entire time.
“I thought we’d at least have a bed, you know, being employed by the wealthy Prince of Carpathia and all. A smelly, dank, dirty cave amid Whisper Woods was the last place I expected we’d bunk down,” she whined.
“This is the best we could do with short notice,” Kylan said dryly. “Once we hear from Trystan, we’ll move on.”
“He owes me big time,” she mumbled under her breath, causing me to bite back a laugh.
I was grateful she was here. If it had only been me and the assassins, I would’ve felt uncomfortable. Watching her toss and turn and grumble, helped to keep my mind occupied and gave me a sense of comfort, letting me know I wasn’t alone in this situation, despite our present conditions.
Once Melaina settled and the cave grew quiet, my attention turned to the fire. I was mesmerized by the way the tendrils of flame and smoke twirled like an endless dance. A warm and elegant dance which slowly lulled me to sleep.
I dreamed I was standing on a balcony made of white marble. On either side of me, alabaster columns rose from the floor and touched the ceiling. Each one had a dragon intricately carved along its entire length. Their maws were opened wide, revealing sharp teeth. Feet were curved with tapering claws, and long, scaled tails coiled all the way to the bottom. But as impressive as the dragon carvings were, it was the view beyond those columns that took my breath away.
To the east, the first golden rays of dawn stretched and kissed the land below, nudging its inhabitants to wake from their slumber. I was on a mountainside, overlooking the greenest rolling hills flecked with lush oak and pine trees. Between them, a river hurriedly flowed through its course, and beyond that, the same golden rays glistened and danced across a boundless sea.
I inhaled the crisp, fresh air which smelled of morning dew and fresh pine.
A glass table with a lone chair slid under it rested near the edge of the railing, facing the view. I drifted over to it, my bare feet padding against the icy marble floor. Pulling out the chair, I sat, gazing out at the magnificent masterpiece laid out before me. Wherever this was . . . it was paradise.
Footsteps behind me had me spinning back to find Trystan leaning against one of the alabaster columns, arms leisurely crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on the eastern sky.
Good gods, he was even more attractive than I’d remembered. His sheer presence exuded grace and power.
He was wearing a dark gray shirt, the top-half unbuttoned, exposing a tattoo I couldn’t entirely see, and it piqued my interest. Azure eyes, flecked with gold, seized mine, forcing my breath to hitch.
“It’s good to see you, Calla.” Trystan’s tone was tender and smooth like honey, but his eyes looked tired.
My body wanted to rise and move toward him, but my mind refused to let me budge. Instead, I folded my arms over my chest.
“I’m mad at you,” I managed to say, but my words didn’t have as much sting as I’d intended.
“And justly so,” he replied with a heavy sigh. “I’m terribly sorry things happened in the manner they did. If I’d had more time to prepare more thoroughly, matters might have turned out differently. But, as I expressed before, time was my adversary.” He moved from the column and took a few strides toward me. “I don’t blame you for being upset. But claiming you was the only way I could think of to save you.”
“You could have given me a choice.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Would you have believed me?”
“Probably not,” I sighed. “I’m still having a tough time accepting it all.”
Behind him, white gossamer curtains blew carelessly in the breeze from an opened door, and beyond that was a grand open room where I spotted a massive, lush bed and a fireplace with a small sitting area. The details of this dream were so elaborate, much more than any other dream I’d had.
“Is this place real?”
A lopsided grin grew on his perfect lips. “As real as you want it to be.”
“How is this even possible?”
“When I bit you, your blood became a part of me, and in turn, my essence was left inside of you. We now have a partial blood bond which allows you to visit me while you sleep.”
His explanation sounded oddly erotic, and it made me wonder . . . “Do all the others you’ve bitten have dreams like this?”
A mischievous glimmer flickered in his eyes. “No.” He hesitated momentarily before clarifying. “Each bite a pureblood gives, is done with a specific purpose. Whether for pleasure, to feed, or to sire. But I’ve never sired anyone who wasn’t in need or didn’t wish to be reborn.” Sadness swam in his eyes. “The intention I had when I bit you was for a vastly different purpose than all the others. It was—”
The expression on his face showed great regret and sorrow. He looked exhausted, and from what the others had said, it was because he was trying to save me and my family. I still couldn’t understand or begin to wrap my brain around why.
“You thought I was going to drink from the flask, didn’t you?” I said softly.
His attention averted toward the west, his eyes distant. “I had hoped.”
The answer made my heart compre
ss. “So, unless I consume your blood in the flask, everything you did . . . finding me, biting me, and making me turn into this,” I gestured to myself, “it was all for nothing. Right?”
His deep gaze found mine. “No. Not for me,” he replied with a wistful grin. “In the end, I’ll always know I tried to rescue the girl, even if she didn’t want to be rescued.”
I soaked in his words. In his soul, he genuinely wanted to save me. But I still had so many questions and fears.
I rested against the railing, taking in the view. “Where is this place?”
“My home in Carpathia.”
I twisted to him; a gleam of pride lit his eyes.
Home? I leaned further and peered down. Heaven’s above, this was a castle. A real castle. In the distance I spotted an imposing, black iron gate, with a cobbled pathway that led to the castle’s entrance below. “You live in a castle?”
He gave another tired grin, his eyes studying mine. “Yes.”
I shook my head in complete awe. “Are you the only one here?”
“In your dream, yes. But there are a number of attendants, guards, and others employed who reside here.” His grin tugged a bit higher. “One of these days, when you arrive, I’ll give you a formal tour.”
There had been a moment when I wanted to lash out at him, to confess how upset I was for all that he’d put me through. But I couldn’t find it within myself to do so. Instead, I responded, “I’d like that. Thank you.”
His smile widened as his eyes roamed the countryside. “This could be ours one day,” he uttered carefully, gently. “If you ever decide . . .”
To choose it. To choose him.
“I still don’t understand why you’re doing this for me. Why would you give so much attention to and put so much effort into someone you don’t even know? What if I’m a terrible person who could create trouble for you and your family?”
He studied my face, his head bending slightly forward. “Because my heart tells me otherwise.”
I sighed, letting out a mild giggle. “So, Vampire princes have hearts?”
