Page 25 of A Vow of Blood and Tears

Chapter 25

Cirri

A s always, I was a little taken aback at how wrong my expectations had been when it came to the vampires.

I had fully expected to fear Wroth, to shiver with curdled terror at the sight of him—but how could I be afraid of someone who was so obviously broken?

His leonine features, as monstrous in their own way as Bane’s bat-like visage, with his curling horns, digitigrade feet, and lashing tail—they were hideous and strange, but the deep pain and bitterness in his eyes… those emotions turned him from something to be feared, into someone in need.

And Kajarin… I’d thought I would find common ground of some sort, both of us being women forced into marriages we never could have foreseen, marriages to monsters. I’d had it in my mind that perhaps Kajarin was terrified of Wroth, that maybe with a little time she could come to see that a fiend wasn’t so bad.

I hadn’t expected a woman dressed like the harlots in the Argent slums, albeit one wearing a lifetime’s ransom of gems. Nor one who would ignore her own husband so readily in favor of trying to bed mine, though I hadn’t missed the curl of disgust in her lip as she looked at Bane.

Clearly there was nothing we had in common outside of our roles in life, and Kajarin was not the unsearched-for friend I’d hoped to find.

But there was nothing I could do, outside of sending her off in the most embarrassing manner I could think of at a moment’s notice.

Bane curled his hand around mine, and I squeezed one of his fingers lightly despite my anger.

“Well,” Auré said bracingly. She hadn’t taken so much as a sip from her glass, tracing her pinky around the rim over and over until I thought I might scream. “How are things here, Bane? Letters only tell us so much, and frankly, you could stand to write more.”

My husband cleared his throat, still clearly shocked by the realization of what Kajarin had been trying to do. “Everything is fine. We’ve reopened the mines, so we can begin shoring up the defenses. Some progress has finally been made with the Rift-kin, so we’ll have less wastage…”

“Yes, yes.” Auré waved a graceful hand. “We’ve heard this. What I meant was, how are things here ?” And she gave me a significant look, as though I were not sitting right here to see it.

The seething anger rippled upwards again, and I had to forcibly suppress it. My appetite, diminished by Kajarin, was all but gone now. I laid the fork aside carefully, giving Auré the sweetest smile I could manage; if Wyn thought she’d be installing this vampire in my place, they could both go to hell.

I knew that I would have to manage myself around vampires. On one hand, I didn’t want to overtly display heightened emotions, which Visca had told me would trigger hunting instincts; on the other hand, I needed to behave properly so as not to embarrass either myself or the hold I represented.

But to be treated like a lapdog that couldn’t understand that it was being talked about… I gritted my teeth together, keeping the smile in place.

Bane glanced at me, his brow furrowed with confusion, then smiled widely. “Wonderful. Things are wonderful.”

Wroth and Auré shared a skeptical glance so quick, so sly, that I almost missed it.

“I’m glad to hear that.” The vampire woman spoke carefully, as though to a simple child. Did she not believe him?

Bane looked between the two of them, the furrow returning. “Why—”

“It’s been a long time,” Auré said softly, and she reached across the table to touch Bane’s free hand. “A long, long time since we’ve seen you. Ten years since we’ve all been together. I truly am happy to see you well, Bane, and if anything is wrong… I hope that you still trust us enough to help you.”

She removed her hand in time, because the fork was in easy reach, and I’d contemplated with no small amount of gravity the force it would take to pierce vampire flesh.

Probably more than I possessed. I was no warrior or fighter like the Silver Sisters, but I imagined that sheer irritation would carry me through.

“Nothing is wrong,” Bane replied, the faintest hint of a growl to his tone. “Exactly what are you insinuating, Auré?”

Her violet eyes widened. “Only that we’re here for you, as well as Andrus and Voryan. It’s a lonely place, to be a fiend holding a seat against the Forians and… other hostiles.”

Bane tipped his head, studying the lovely vampire. “I will be the judge of the hostiles here. You are acting as the Lord’s advisor in Owlhorn, correct? Then you may advise Wroth, and leave me to Wyn.”

Wyn poked at her roast hen, staying well out of this.

Auré leaned back in her chair, studying him through narrowed eyes. “You’ve grown more comfortable in your position, Lord Bane. There was a time you would have hung on my every word, afraid to make a misstep.”

Despite my anger at Auré, there was an undercurrent here I couldn’t read, a history I didn’t know. And in that history, perhaps there was a buried seed of a shared past…

I hated my own jealousy, but I was powerless to rip out the green serpent writhing through my guts. I had known of Bane in name only; to an indentured servant of the Sisters, he was both enemy and ally, a nearly mythical figure that protected us, yet came from the ranks of our sworn foes.

There had been no past, no commonality between us, unlike him and Auré. For all I knew, he had wanted her at one time, and instead he’d had me thrown into his life for the sole purpose of meeting a political requirement.

“There was a time when I was young and had no idea what I was doing,” Bane said, squeezing my hand under the table. “That time is no longer. Have you come merely to rub my face in the past?”

Auré shook her head, leaning towards him, eyes pleading. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, Bane. Have we not been friends for decades? I’m here to provide whatever aid I can—that’s all.”

My husband looked at her mistrustfully. “As I said, I have no need of any outside help. The Rift is hard at work on what we must do, and Wyn and Visca are, as always, admirable at handling the defenses. Cirri is making herself at home. Ravenscry does not need aid.”

She reached for him again, and I put a stop to that even as Bane leaned back, removing his hand from the table.

Why not ask him outright? I asked her, disentangling my hand from Bane’s to sign. Ask him what you’re really thinking. Am I like Kajarin? Do I while away the hours of my day debating how best to destroy his soul?

Auré’s smile showed more fang than was strictly necessary. “Do you?” she asked softly.

Look at him and tell me. What do you see?

The vampire woman’s eyes flicked between us, then she signed back, her hands so much more graceful than mine: Wroth looked happy for the first year—and see him now.

The lion-like fiend wasn’t scowling, wasn’t smiling, had no expression at all—he stared at the wall behind me and Bane, but his eyes were far away.

That problem lies with Kajarin, not with me , I said. Find a new bride for Wroth if she’s so terrible.

Auré sneered, and I became vaguely aware of everyone watching our silent, if vociferous, conversation. Bane was half out of his seat, as though to get between us, but he was frozen, watching our hands with rapt concentration. We were moving too fast for anyone unversed in the priests’ tongue to understand with any clarity.

As though pureblood women of your kind grow on trees , she said, snapping her movements out. Your people made that demand specifically to hinder us, hoping to return power to the humans, and now you’ve saddled our heroes with lying whores and weeping invalids. Now we must tiptoe around your lot, satisfying your lusts for more, more gold, more jewels, more men—while the fiends who sacrificed their lives for us are drained of all they were.

I stood up abruptly, my heart hammering against my breastbone. You make many assumptions. I’d think someone of your age and experience would know better. Do I seem like a whore to you? Has Bane drained his treasury to drape me with jewels? I think not. Am I weeping now? Am I lying in a tower, lost in poppy dreams? Try using your own eyes, Lady Auré.

She stood as well, the two of us facing off with a dinner table between us, the vampire’s deep purple eyes flashing as they moved from my sapphire earrings to the golden hairpins. Yes, I’m sure a girl of your age and experience will be dazzled now, but one day you will wake up and see a fiend when you want a handsome human man. You will realize you have the highest title in the land, and desire the jewels to go with it. Once the newness wears off, you’re all the same.

I couldn’t help but silently laugh. I had expected to fend off advances on my blood, not my character.

As always… my expectations had been wrong.

Look at you, calling me a ‘hostile’, as though you know me at all. As of this moment, the only hostility I feel is for you. I didn’t ask for this, but Ravenscry is my home now. You walked in here and immediately decided I was a threat to Bane—if you believe so, then tell him outright. Stop straddling the hedge and say what you mean.

Auré’s lips flattened as I spoke, her own hands fisted.

But you won’t, will you? I added. You know there’s a chance you’re wrong. Even more, I think it upsets you that he no longer clings to your every word. So now you’ll use Kajarin as an excuse to take it out on me.

Her eyes were blazing, fangs pressing into her lower lip. We’ve known each other for longer than you’ve been alive. We fought together. I’ve seen three of my oldest, closest friends die a slow death of the mind to the terrible women your people chose—I won’t allow all four of them to live in misery.

I raised my hands, ready to respond in kind even as I longed to strangle her—but Bane stood, towering behind me, taking one of my hands in his. “Cirri. I think I’ve understood enough.”

Auré’s furious features went limpid as soon as she looked at Bane, and I bit down on my tongue, fighting the urge to bare my teeth at her—a sure invitation for a fight, according to the cultural lessons.

“Auré…” Bane took a breath. “Wroth. You are indeed two of my oldest friends, but my hospitality only extends so far. This is your last warning. Treat my wife with respect, or the Rift will be barred to you.”

Wroth, who had stared at the wall through our silent argument, let out a rusty chuckle.

Auré put a hand to her chest, as though pierced with an arrow. “Bane… I didn’t intend…”

“Come to bed, Cirri,” my husband murmured to me. “I want to speak with you alone.”

I didn’t look behind me as we left; I heard whispers between Wyn and Auré, and decided to leave well enough alone.

It had been a while since I felt alone in Ravenscry. The feeling was cold and unwelcome, and I wondered if I had embarrassed Bane with my behavior.

He led me to the Tower of Winter, and the feeling of icy fear didn’t leave me even as I stepped into the familiar room I woke up in every day. I wrapped my arms around myself, waiting for the chastisement, for Bane to tell me I’d committed an egregious misstep, and in front of people he’d known for longer than I’d been alive.

I was no lady, no noble, and this one argument had done more than anything else to prove that. In the servants’ quarters where I’d grown up, arguments were settled quickly, with harsh words and harsh blows, not with politesse and verbal daggers.

Only Auré’s vampiric nature had kept me from a quick slap. I was more likely to break my hand on her face than to cause her any harm, and at any rate… it was best that I hadn’t. Surely it would’ve just proved to Bane that I was of the lower classes, and not a Lady, but a sham of one.

The door closed and locked, and I took a deep breath.

“What was that?” he asked, his voice quiet. “You were speaking too quickly.”

I avoided his gaze to pull out my journal, opening it past the crease where I’d tucked his poem to the next new page, and stared at the blank expanse for a moment. How did I even begin to explain a childish argument without sounding ridiculous?

But when I put down my pen to write, the blunt question that gnawed at me spilled out: Who is Auré to you?

Bane sat beside me, and read the question silently, his eyes moving to mine. “Is that what this is? Jealousy?”

To my surprise, he chuckled, shaking his head.

It’s not funny to me, Bane. Is she a past lover of yours?

“No, my lady. No.” He mastered his expression, barely managing to wipe his incredulous smile away. “Auré is, and has always been, a sister to me. To all of us.”

Well, to hell with it. I’d already shown my hand, ugly jealousy and all.

Wyn said Auré was the one she would choose as your lover , I wrote. If we didn’t find our way.

That was what fully killed Bane’s amusement. The smile, which had been on the verge of returning, became a stormy scowl. “Ah, fuck. I see why you’d think… but no, never. She genuinely is like a sister to me. Even if you and I had never met, that thought would never cross my mind. And as for Wyn… as you’ve noticed, she likes to be involved, whether she’s wanted or not. I love her, but that is a shortcoming, I won’t lie. Yes, she tried to make plans in the event that you preferred to be away from me, but as I told her then: no. While my vows are made, there will never be another, whether you love or loathe me—and Auré would never have been a consideration regardless.”

I licked my lips, feeling a little better. Perhaps he was lying, and there was a past… but if there was, it would clearly remain in the past. I trusted Bane enough to speak straight about his intentions.

She is very aggressive in her defense of you and your brothers , I finally wrote.

“I noticed.” Bane’s expression turned a little sour. “And as I said, you were speaking too quickly for me to read clearly. What did she say to you?”

By the Light… as much as I disliked the vampire woman, nothing good could come of repeating our argument.

“Cirri.” My husband’s tone was dangerously calm.

It’s resolved between us now. What does it matter?

“It matters to me. I’m asking now—don’t make me demand.” The growl in his voice had deepened, the reverberations tangible in my bones.

I sighed. She was concerned that I might be a whore or a gold digger. I was concerned she was too stupid to tell otherwise. We settled our concerns. The end.

Bane swiped a clawed hand across his face, torn between amusement and anger. “I will speak with her.”

No , I wrote. Neither Auré nor your brothers will ever respect me if I let you win my arguments. I have to prove to them myself that I’m not using you, or trying to harm you.

“But you’re furious,” he said, putting a finger under my chin to force my head up, so I had to look him in the eye.

I nodded. Yes, but when I look past my anger, I see they have reasons for this distrust. Look at Kajarin and Wroth. Something is terribly wrong there. As long as Auré stops touching you, I’m willing to do what I can to prove myself.

Bane’s lips twitched. “Ah. I apologize, Cirri, for as much as I want you to be happy and content, I am… rather taken with the jealousy.” He laughed a little. “Who would have thought that you would want to keep something like me for yourself?”

Bane.

“I really am sorry, but it’s gratifying. I spent ten years thinking my wife would immediately hand me off so she didn’t have to come near me herself… but here you are.”

Stop being gratified , I told him with some annoyance. It’s not a compliment.

The fiend grinned at me. “No? I rather like you ready and willing to defend your territory. I am all yours, after all, and I’d happily stop another hand from touching me for the rest of my life for your happiness.”

I stared up at him, debating with myself, still icy to the marrow with nerves and fear, but I had to say it. It was eating at me.

Finally I wrote: Are you all mine? You are gratified by my jealousy, which makes me sick to think I must worry about Auré, but you won’t touch me outside of feeding on my blood. You sleep next to me, but you won’t sleep with me. I’ve used you for my own pleasure but I’ve never even seen you naked. I’ve wondered if there is something wrong with me that makes you not want—

Abruptly the pen was pulled from my hand.

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Bane hissed, looming over me, his teeth at eye-level. “Nothing! If anything, you are too good for me, and it would kill me to destroy you in a moment of lust gone too far.”

Penless, I resorted to simple signing. I am not too good for you.

“Don’t turn this around.” He put the journal and the pen on the table, out of reach, and closed his eyes for a moment. “I’ve told you this before, but perhaps not well enough. I am not a man. I am deformed and monstrous. I could, with the least effort, tear you apart. No, do not speak yet.”

I put my hands back in my lap, my stomach alive with nerves.

“Believe me, were I shaped like the men you’ve seen before, I would have you in bed all night and day.” He laughed sourly. “I don’t think we’d see the outside of this room for a year, and I wouldn’t regret a second of it. So… I live with the fear that I will destroy you. Secondly, I live with the shame of what I am. There is a reason there are only four of us; few of my kind are willing to give up their beauty when they know this awaits. Few of my kind even want to touch us. Everything we are is meant to evoke primal disgust; we are the most base of my kind.”

I want to touch you , I told him, waving his hands away. I don’t want another hand to not touch you; I want mine to be on you. There is a difference.

I signed slowly and carefully, Bane’s eyes tracking the movements, and he finally understood.

“I know. But, Cirri… it’s been so long. I won’t allow my self-control, or lack thereof, to be the reason for your destruction.” He smiled mirthlessly. “Let me alleviate your fears, at the very least. I have never wanted Auré, and I certainly don’t now. There has never been a woman I want more than you. While I find it delightful that you want me enough to feel jealous at all… the feeling is entirely misplaced. It isn’t—”

I stood up abruptly, and reached up to cup his face. Hard peaks and crests under my palms, his eyes alight with surprise. His ears had swiveled to point straight up, the tips trembling.

Could he hear my racing heartbeat? The rapidness of my breath?

I was more nervous than I’d ever been before, even on the day that I’d learned I was to be sold to him. I believed him, but I also couldn’t stop myself from seeking out a more physical brand of proof.

I slowly ran my fingertips down over his neck, to the swoop of his collarbone and the broad chest beneath. Bane’s own breath quickened, each exhale a low snarl. Tension quivered in his limbs.

Do you not want me to touch you? I asked, pausing. I will stop. Say the word and I’ll stop. But I do want you, and I don’t want you to fear my touch.

And, what we both knew and weren’t saying, was that I wanted proof that he wanted me.

I put my hands back on his chest, feeling the slow, steady thud of his heartbeat. I knew what he looked like beneath the shirt, at least, remembering rippling muscles in the stableyard as he picked up a thousand pounds, and the heat that flooded through me at the memory was more shocking than it was then.

It was the sheer intensity of it. I’d been surprised by my desire for a fiend at all; now I was surprised by how my hands shook, wanting to tear the clothes away and feel him all over.

Tell me no , I signed one-handed, unwilling to remove my palm from his heart. Or tell me yes. You choose.

“Cirri… if I hurt you…” He closed his eyes, chest rumbling.

You won’t hurt me . I smiled up at him. Because you’re not allowed to move. If you tell me yes, you have to keep your hands to yourself.

He opened his eyes a crack, peering at me. “I… cannot move? What game is this?”

The kind of game where no one gets hurt, and everyone is happy . I trailed my hand further down, my stomach clenching at the sensation of hard valleys of muscle under my palm.

A minute ticked by, then another. My nerves were strained to the breaking point.

Those hard muscles twitched under my touch, and the rumble in his sigh gave away the answer before I heard it. “Yes.”

I exhaled silently, acknowledging how afraid I’d been that he would say no, and then letting it go. The only way this would work was if we trusted each other, and he was finally granting me some of that trust to not be disgusted by him.

I took one of hands and raised it, pressing a kiss to his palm as he had done to me earlier, then brought his hand firmly to his side and patted it. Stay there .

Then, a little worried about what I would come to, but burning with anticipation to finally sate my curiosity and lust, I returned my hands to his shirt and slowly unbuttoned it.

Bane tensed a little under my touch; I kept my movements slow, brushing the hot velvet skin of his chest with my fingers as I went. Soon he had shed it, revealing the carved bulk of his physique, the defined brawn that made my mouth water. The lower half of his stomach was a muscular V, quivering under my touch.

I kissed his chest, moving my hands lower and feeling a thrill of nervousness and anticipation when I came to the trousers. I tugged at the laces one-handed, unwilling to take my hand from skin even for a moment, and Bane’s own hands clenched into fists.

Tell me to stop , I reminded him, and gave him a moment to decide. He finally nodded his horned head, eyes narrowed to slits as he watched me tug the laces out and slip a thumb into the waistband.

I tugged them down, revealing the cock that I’d ridden through my nightgown, felt pressed against my ass in the morning, the member that had brought me pleasure already, even as it brought him shame.

He had been right, in that he was nothing like human men.

The most salient feature was the monstrous size of him; even without the unusual changes, I realized he could tear me apart, if he wanted. I slid two fingers down the stomach muscle to the hard, throbbing shaft, shivering as Bane sucked in a breath.

The thick shaft was not smooth like a human’s. The cartilaginous ridges of his body continued down his stomach and sides, growing smaller and more closely-aligned the further down they went; they extended to his cock, all the way down the shaft to a head crowned with firm barbs that flared outward.

With the way they were shaped, I could see what he meant… this was an appendage meant to spear deep, and to stay there.

It was different, but this was Bane, and I was already wet and aching from running my fingertips over his massive organ, feeling him twitch in my palms.

Easy , I reminded myself. I had a lifetime to show him that I damn well meant it when I said I wanted him.

I pushed against him, forcing him back to the bed and making him sit. He let out a little rumble, teeth showing, and I put his hands at his sides. Don’t touch, and don’t move.

Then I knelt before him, my puddled skirts padding my knees against the stone floor.

I leaned forward and kissed his chest, working my way down with teeth and tongue and lips, the wood-and-salt taste of him filling my mouth. My legs were shaking when I laved my tongue over the muscle of his stomach, and then…

His cock jerked in my hand when I ran my tongue over the crown, and he made a strangled sound, half snarl, half cry. Bane’s hips bucked, and I pushed him back down with one hand, taking him back into my mouth.

As much as I could, anyway… even with my saliva, the tip was difficult to wrap my lips around, and the flared crown kept him locked inside me, trapped behind my teeth.

My tongue stroked upwards along the sensitive patch on the underside, and the sound he made… I ached so badly, but I wanted him to feel the pleasure for once, instead of me.

Bane gripped the mattress as I took as much of him as I could, swirling my tongue around him, and the pulse of him in my mouth made me want to move harder, faster, drawing groans and rumbles from him as I stroked the ridged shaft.

When my jaw began to ache, I finally drew back, grazing my teeth over his smooth skin more by necessity than intent. My breath came in harsh pants as I tipped my head, tasting him, kneading the heavy sack between his legs as I ran my tongue from the underside of his base to the crown once more.

“Gods, Cirri,” he gasped, cock jerking. I lapped away the pearl that had beaded at the tip, wrapping my lips around him as I stroked, sucking and licking enthusiastically.

He was different, but I’d never wanted to feel someone inside me so badly in my entire life. Maybe I would’ve called him monstrous a week ago, but I could imagine how he would feel locked inside me, pushing deep…

My own clit tingled and I squeezed my knees together tighter, reminding myself that this was about Bane, that I finally got to touch him—until his nostrils flared, and he snarled, “I can smell it on you, woman. Stand up.”

His cock throbbed in my mouth, but I obeyed, gasping for breath and core clenching. Bane gripped my skirt. I couldn’t make sense of it until his claws penetrated and he tore the fabric, ripping it wide open into a slit from waist to hem, and he pulled me onto him.

The pole jutted between my legs, and he forced my hips down, moving me so that I was riding his shaft again—every firm ridge rubbing against my clit, up and down, his hips thrusting up to drive the hard, saliva-wettened texture against me.

I gripped the head of his shaft with one hand, stroking it in time with our frantic pace, Bane’s snarls emerging on every breath. Now that I could see it, feel it, I could understand his fear.

By the Light, when he pushed into me, would he be able to go all the way? Would I see the bulge of that monstrosity inside me? I rode against him with hard, rapid thrusts, and still had more than enough to work him with my hands.

He watched me rock against him, and I couldn’t feel even the tiniest bit of self-consciousness about my own body, fully exposed in the light, because he watched with such a deep hunger, lips pulled back as though to bite. He’d shredded right through the bedding with his claws while I sucked him, and now he made me move faster, jerking me up and down as my legs shook.

The crest hit me harder than last time, making my hips lock up and my mouth open in a silent scream, my nails digging into his bare shoulders. It was a thousand times more intense, skin against skin, the heat of his cock burning into my core.

He pushed upwards, driving the firm rippled flesh over me, watching the way his cock parted my lower lips while I shook on him, and I stroked him hard, squeezing up and down as much as I could touch.

With a sound that was half roar, half groan, he picked me up and slammed me onto the bed, ripping the shredded remains of my skirt out of the way, and wrapped his hand over mine.

I barely had time to acknowledge a change—he had thickened, the ridges growing even more distended as though to keep him seated tight—before he came. Ropes of hot come splattered across my stomach and pussy, painting my thighs. I stroked again with him, moving harder, releasing another flood.

Only when every last drop was milked out of him and dripping over my core did we stop moving, both of us panting for breath, gazing at each other like we’d never seen each other before.

I couldn’t read the look on his face, but nonetheless, I grinned up at him and signed lazily, my whole body satisfied and wrung-out.

Do you still think you’re monstrous? I asked. Because I want that again.

He let out a surprised laugh, and then I saw what was on his face: disbelief, satisfaction, and surprise.

I touched his cheek, where the heat and effort had flushed his skin a dark ash gray.

“No, not… not if you like it.” Then he hesitated, his eyes moving over me from my sweat-dampened face to my seed-glazed sex, and then he climbed from between my legs and pulled me into a possessive grip, his chest still moving in deep breaths. “I think I’ll lock us in for the year.”

I couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit smug that it had worked. That he saw, at least on some level, that there was nothing to be ashamed of with me, that I wanted to know and touch all of him. And now I felt, in large part, that there was nothing wrong with me—and nothing to be jealous of.

Please do .