Page 81
Story: The Shadow Bride
“And if we don’t?”
And if I don’t?
Cursing again, he drags a hand through his hair, and I cannot help but stare at the disheveled strands, transfixed. Have I ever seen Michal disheveled? I’ve seen him broken and bleeding, yes—and in various states of undress, his clothing stained and shredded—but no, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so—so muddled, soflusteredas he does now. The man has tied himself into veritable knots since leaving Mathilde’s cottage, perhaps earlier than even that, and inexplicable emotion engulfs me at the sight of it. Ofhim.
The reaction must show on my face because his own darkens; glancing through the clearing, he wraps those cold fingers around my arms before walking us into the shelter of the nearest tree. The icy bark abrades my back as he says in a low voice, “The longer two vampires feed from each other, the stronger the bond grows, until...” He hesitates then, his black eyes burning into mine.
“Until?” I ask, pressing my body flush against his.
“Until it becomes irrevocable.”
“Irrevocable?”
“You’ll need my blood to survive, and I’ll need yours.”
“Oh.”Oh.His words penetrate the haze of my thoughts too slowly, but when they do, they act as ice water on the heat in my belly—the flames hiss and twist, leaving me colder and slightlydimmer than before. I blink up at Michal as the stark reality he described settles over us.The truth.
An irrevocable bond. An eternal one.
For the first time since All Hallows’ Eve, the chasm of eternity yawns open before me, wide and endless.Eternal.I should’ve realized what that word means before now. I should’ve realized what it would look like as a vampire. And perhaps Ididrealize, but not—not consciously. I never envisioned the actual years, the world and its people constantly in flux, ever changing, evolving, while I remain the same.
And Michal—
I stare up at him, momentarily lost for words in the face of this great, nameless future.
Michal has already lived it. For hundreds of years, he has walked this earth, experiencing things of which I could never dream, engaging in adventures, meeting every sort of person and creature and monster.And loving them, says the nasty little voice in my head. I flinch away from the realization instinctively; because of course Michal has engaged in intimate relationships before now, beforeme—dozens of them, probably, even scores. The thought of those beautiful, faceless people leaves me even colder than before.
I’ve loved two people in my entire life, and both of those relationships ended in the blink of Michal’s eye.
Irrevocable.
The word still echoes between us in the stillness of the clearing. It takes on quite a different meaning when coupled with eternal life. Because who amIto make such a pivotal decision? I am not Michal, and instinctively, I know that I’m not one of his usualparamours either. I am still just Célie—only Célie—and I’ve been a vampire for less than a fortnight.
At my expression, he steps away stiffly. “You must regret ever meeting me.”
“I never said that.”
“It’s what youshould’vesaid though, right?” Searching my gaze, he repeats my previous words. “It’s what you should want?”
Though he phrases the last as a question, I cannot help but feel he doesn’t mean it as one.You shouldn’t want me, Célie, his eyes seem to say, and part of me still believes him. Part of me knows I should flee as far and as fast as I can from Michal Vasiliev, yet the other part steps closer.
“Are you going to tell me when this mystical bond forms?” I ask him. “Or has it happened already?” A sudden and unpleasant thought strikes. “Is that why I—?”Oh God.I gape at him as that heat claws higher, nearly strangling my words. “Is that why I’mfeelingall these things about you? Because of this Eternal Bond?”
“We’ve fed from each other once,” Michal says with thinly veiled impatience. “I hate to break it to you, pet, but whatever you’refeelingabout me is because of you, not the bond.”
“Me?” Though I move to step around him—away from him—my hands catch his surcoat, and I pull him closer instead. His fingers lace through mine. “All of this is happening because ofyou. You and your—your eyes, and your loyalty, and your stupid dimple.” His brows contract at that, but I plunge forward before he can speak. “When does it happen, Michal? When does this bond between us become permanent?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Tellme—”
“The stronger the emotions involved, the faster it happens, but no one can predict the exact moment.” He tears his gaze from mine with the air of someone trying to bring the situation back under his control. Apparently he cannot look at me to do that. Cannot touch me either. The thought fills me with a thrill of exhilaration, as does the realization that the bond hasn’t happened yet. If we stop drinking from each other, it never will. Nothing needs to change between us—or at least, notthat. As if echoing my thoughts, he says, “I will not feed from you again.”
Instantly, the image of him feeding from Arielle—of him feeding fromanyoneelse—rears in my mind like a snake preparing to strike, but I push it away. “Good. Agreed. Perhaps Arielle will let me feed from her too. She seemed to rather enjoyyourattentions—”
“I intend to honor my word, Célie,” he says softly, lethally. “Our bargain still stands. You can feed from me until you learn to control it.”
“Oh no.” I jab a finger at his chest, and that sense of exhilaration heightens as he glares down at it. “Oh no, no, no. I’ll feed from whoever I wish, whenever I wish, and nothing you say can stop me.”
And if I don’t?
Cursing again, he drags a hand through his hair, and I cannot help but stare at the disheveled strands, transfixed. Have I ever seen Michal disheveled? I’ve seen him broken and bleeding, yes—and in various states of undress, his clothing stained and shredded—but no, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so—so muddled, soflusteredas he does now. The man has tied himself into veritable knots since leaving Mathilde’s cottage, perhaps earlier than even that, and inexplicable emotion engulfs me at the sight of it. Ofhim.
The reaction must show on my face because his own darkens; glancing through the clearing, he wraps those cold fingers around my arms before walking us into the shelter of the nearest tree. The icy bark abrades my back as he says in a low voice, “The longer two vampires feed from each other, the stronger the bond grows, until...” He hesitates then, his black eyes burning into mine.
“Until?” I ask, pressing my body flush against his.
“Until it becomes irrevocable.”
“Irrevocable?”
“You’ll need my blood to survive, and I’ll need yours.”
“Oh.”Oh.His words penetrate the haze of my thoughts too slowly, but when they do, they act as ice water on the heat in my belly—the flames hiss and twist, leaving me colder and slightlydimmer than before. I blink up at Michal as the stark reality he described settles over us.The truth.
An irrevocable bond. An eternal one.
For the first time since All Hallows’ Eve, the chasm of eternity yawns open before me, wide and endless.Eternal.I should’ve realized what that word means before now. I should’ve realized what it would look like as a vampire. And perhaps Ididrealize, but not—not consciously. I never envisioned the actual years, the world and its people constantly in flux, ever changing, evolving, while I remain the same.
And Michal—
I stare up at him, momentarily lost for words in the face of this great, nameless future.
Michal has already lived it. For hundreds of years, he has walked this earth, experiencing things of which I could never dream, engaging in adventures, meeting every sort of person and creature and monster.And loving them, says the nasty little voice in my head. I flinch away from the realization instinctively; because of course Michal has engaged in intimate relationships before now, beforeme—dozens of them, probably, even scores. The thought of those beautiful, faceless people leaves me even colder than before.
I’ve loved two people in my entire life, and both of those relationships ended in the blink of Michal’s eye.
Irrevocable.
The word still echoes between us in the stillness of the clearing. It takes on quite a different meaning when coupled with eternal life. Because who amIto make such a pivotal decision? I am not Michal, and instinctively, I know that I’m not one of his usualparamours either. I am still just Célie—only Célie—and I’ve been a vampire for less than a fortnight.
At my expression, he steps away stiffly. “You must regret ever meeting me.”
“I never said that.”
“It’s what youshould’vesaid though, right?” Searching my gaze, he repeats my previous words. “It’s what you should want?”
Though he phrases the last as a question, I cannot help but feel he doesn’t mean it as one.You shouldn’t want me, Célie, his eyes seem to say, and part of me still believes him. Part of me knows I should flee as far and as fast as I can from Michal Vasiliev, yet the other part steps closer.
“Are you going to tell me when this mystical bond forms?” I ask him. “Or has it happened already?” A sudden and unpleasant thought strikes. “Is that why I—?”Oh God.I gape at him as that heat claws higher, nearly strangling my words. “Is that why I’mfeelingall these things about you? Because of this Eternal Bond?”
“We’ve fed from each other once,” Michal says with thinly veiled impatience. “I hate to break it to you, pet, but whatever you’refeelingabout me is because of you, not the bond.”
“Me?” Though I move to step around him—away from him—my hands catch his surcoat, and I pull him closer instead. His fingers lace through mine. “All of this is happening because ofyou. You and your—your eyes, and your loyalty, and your stupid dimple.” His brows contract at that, but I plunge forward before he can speak. “When does it happen, Michal? When does this bond between us become permanent?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Tellme—”
“The stronger the emotions involved, the faster it happens, but no one can predict the exact moment.” He tears his gaze from mine with the air of someone trying to bring the situation back under his control. Apparently he cannot look at me to do that. Cannot touch me either. The thought fills me with a thrill of exhilaration, as does the realization that the bond hasn’t happened yet. If we stop drinking from each other, it never will. Nothing needs to change between us—or at least, notthat. As if echoing my thoughts, he says, “I will not feed from you again.”
Instantly, the image of him feeding from Arielle—of him feeding fromanyoneelse—rears in my mind like a snake preparing to strike, but I push it away. “Good. Agreed. Perhaps Arielle will let me feed from her too. She seemed to rather enjoyyourattentions—”
“I intend to honor my word, Célie,” he says softly, lethally. “Our bargain still stands. You can feed from me until you learn to control it.”
“Oh no.” I jab a finger at his chest, and that sense of exhilaration heightens as he glares down at it. “Oh no, no, no. I’ll feed from whoever I wish, whenever I wish, and nothing you say can stop me.”
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