Page 16 of Bitten & Burned

We walked in silence for a few steps. There was a stiffness to Vael’s shoulders I hadn’t noticed before, a faint tension in the way he kept his gaze forward. I almost asked what was wrong, but the moment passed before I found the words.

We passed rooms I’d seen before—parlors half-lit in the evening light, hallways lined with stern-eyed portraits—and others I hadn’t, their closed doors hiding whatever histories lay inside.

My fingers itched for paper and ink already, the thought of Silas’s promised manuscript sitting heavy in my mind.

I’d need somewhere quiet to work. Somewhere mine.

Vael slowed in front of a set of tall double doors. “Here,” he said, and pushed one open with the heel of his hand.

I poked into the room, looking into the darkness and waiting for my eyes to adjust. The air smelled faintly of dust and something green beneath it, as though the memory of plants still lingered here.

I hadn’t been in this part of the manor before, even on my many solo sojourns through Halemont.

I could almost swear the house shifted after me sometimes, the corridors subtly rearranging themselves—but Cassian had assured me that wasn’t true.

This room was larger than it first appeared in the shadows. As my eyes adjusted, I could make out a long row of windows on the opposite wall, their glass dimmed by grime. Faint morning light leaked through in narrow slants, striping the floor.

“Vael?” I called behind me. “What’s this room?”

“The old conservatory,” Vael said, ducking his head in. His voice seemed to carry farther here, softened by the emptiness. “We don’t really go in it anymore—it’s only of use to us half the time, anyway. Too many windows.”

“Oh…” I stepped further in, raising my lantern. Its warm glow spilled across large shapes draped in white drop cloths, the furniture beneath them casting long, skeletal shadows against the walls.

Vael watched me take it in. “Will this suffice as a workspace while you’re here? Especially if you’re having work sent over. Do you want me to help you clean it out? You could make it your own.”

“I’ll do it,” I said, smiling at him. “It’ll give me something to do during the day.”

He stepped further into the room, glancing around at the draped furniture before speaking again. “So… he’s already written to you?”

“Yes,” I said, adjusting the lantern in my hand. “Twice, in fact.”

“Hmmm.”

Just that, low and thoughtful, before he turned his attention back to the windows, running a gloved hand over the dusty sill.

I told myself it was nothing—just a meaningless sound, a filler where other men might nod.

But it caught somewhere in my chest all the same, a faint prickle of awareness that made me wish I’d left the number of letters unspoken.

I glanced back toward the draped shapes, letting the quiet settle again.

Whatever Vael thought, this room could be mine.

I didn’t know why, but it felt like I should do it myself.

Truly carve myself a place. I was pleased to learn they didn’t use this room.

No chance of running into anyone here. Read: Quil.

And during the day, I’d be alone. Well, Fig would likely be here, so not entirely alone.

“Let me at least help you set up more lanterns.”

“Are there more?” I asked.

“Somewhere,” Vael said. “We should ask Cassian. He’ll know.”

I nodded, turning towards the door.

“Oh, you want to go right now?” Vael asked, looking almost disappointed.

“Well, I was thinking yes… so I could work on the room at night too…”

“Well, alright, but I wanted to discuss something with you,” Vael replied.

“We can do both,” I assured him. “Talk with me while we walk.”

He didn’t look convinced, but I only gave him a small smile and started toward the hall.

“I promise. I can walk and talk at the same time, Vael. The wound hasn’t slowed me down that much.”

“Oh, I know that,” he said with a soft laugh as we started down the hall. “It’s just… I wanted to talk to you about the bonding ceremony. The blood bond ritual.”

He was so endearing when he was nervous.

“Of course, Vael. What about it?”

“Well, I was wondering when we might… You know… have it?”

I raised my brows. “I don’t have a date in mind, but I assumed we’d do it as soon as we could.”

“Really?” His whole face lit up—equal parts thrilled and relieved.

“Of course,” I said. “The sooner the better.”

“I’m so glad you think so. I was thinking we could leave as soon as I can arrange passage to Moondale—the Evergreen Conservatory is beautiful this time of year and—”

“Wait.” I stopped walking and held up my hand. “You want to go to Moondale? That’s… at least three days’ journey from here. May I ask why?”

He blinked. “Well… yes. It’s where I was turned, Rowena. It’s customary to hold the ritual in a place where the vampire was turned. It’s where my essence is the most potent.”

I frowned. “I did not know that. Is it necessary then?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said carefully, “but it’s tradition. It matters.”

“Vael, my darling…” I softened my voice, trying not to sound exasperated. “This isn’t exactly a traditional situation. I don’t know if I can handle another trip so soon.”

He laughed awkwardly. “Of course. What was I thinking?”

Relief loosened my chest, and we started walking again. The silence between us was tight but not quite uncomfortable, stretching all the way until we reached Cassian’s door.

“When do you think you would feel up to traveling?” Vael asked then, too casual to be casual. “Maybe in a fortnight?”

I paused mid-step. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I was hoping we might just do it here. Then I don’t have to worry about crossing the mountains.”

Vael pressed his lips together—the first flicker of real resistance. “Yes, but… Rowena, it’s Moondale. You’ve never seen it. The Conservatory is where I learned so much—it’s part of who I am. I want you to see it.”

“We’ll have time for that later,” I said, gently but firmly.

“All the time in the world, if we do this bond,” he reminded me, a little too sharply. “It will lengthen your life—you know that.”

I nodded. “Yes, I know. But right now, I’m tired, Vael. I’m asking to stay here.”

He lifted his chin slightly. “I feel I must insist. When do you think you’ll feel well enough?”

I stared at him, at a loss for words. “I don’t know.”

“Just an estimate—”

“I don’t know!” I snapped, my voice sharp as I rapped my knuckles on Cassian’s door. “I need time to think.”

He flinched. “I can give you that.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like you’re pressing me when I’m asking for space to recover.”

“I never said I’d force you,” Vael protested, frustration creeping in. “I only asked when—”

“And I told you I don’t know!” I hissed. “I’ve done everything you asked, Vael. Everything. And I’m asking you for one thing.”

“This one thing,” he repeated, like it tasted bitter.

His jaw worked for a moment before he went on, voice lower now.

“I’ve bent so much for you, Rowena. Changed so much.

I live most of my life in a tiny apartment in the city.

I only see my coven on rare occasions. And you can’t do this one thing for me? ”

I was speechless. What? I never forced him to do anything he didn’t want to do. Or so I’d thought.

The door opened. Cassian’s eyes flicked between us—I forced a bright smile.

“Cassian! I was wondering if you knew where more electric lanterns were. I want to clean up the conservatory to use as an office, if that’s alright?”

He looked between us, catching every crack in my voice. “Of course. There should be more lanterns in the attic. I can help you bring some down, if you’d like.”

“Let’s ask Cassian,” Vael cut in, voice too calm now.

“No,” I shot back. “This is between us.”

“He’s my coven leader. He should weigh in.”

I exhaled, exhausted. “Fine. Ask him.”

Vael’s jaw flexed once before smoothing into a mask of composure. He turned to Cassian. “Rowena wants to hold the bonding here. I want to do it in Moondale, as tradition dictates—at the Evergreen Conservatory. What do you think?”

Cassian studied Vael for a long moment before turning his eyes to me. His expression softened just a bit. “I think Rowena’s request is a reasonable one,” he said, his voice keeping an even tone, measured and disciplined. But final, as a judgment should be.

“A journey to Moondale in her condition would be needlessly taxing. It’s over two hundred miles away, is it not?”

“Three hundred,” Vael mumbled.

Cassian nodded in acknowledgement. “Tradition is worth honoring, Vael, but not at the expense of your potential bond or her health.”

Vael’s shoulders slumped.

“I’m sure Rowena would be more open to travel once she has recovered, once your bond is stronger. You can take her to Evergreen Conservatory then. In the meantime, the ceremony can be done here.”

Vael’s jaw worked, as if he were chewing on words he couldn’t speak. “As you say, Cassian.”

Cassian’s gaze leveled on him, cool, but not unkind. “Now, the lanterns?”

I nodded, relieved to change the subject.

Cassian led the way to the attic, with Vael and me in tow. Vael talked while we walked—not about the bond, at least, but about some half-forgotten repair the conservatory needed. He talked while Cassian found a key, and worst of all, he talked as we walked through the stuffy, dusty attic.

My head pounded, that sickening, tight pain that ran down my neck and spine. Spread out across my shoulders like wings.

I rolled my shoulders in a vain attempt to alleviate the discomfort that was rapidly devolving into blunt pain.

“They’re up here somewhere,” Cassian said. “Not altogether, unfortunately, but there should be plenty enough for Rowena’s purposes.”

We split up and began to search through the boxes. On any other day, I could spend hours up here, digging through all the boxes of things from times past. But as it was, my body was failing me, and I needed to lie down more than I wanted to look at old things.