Page 29 of Blood Sings (Beyond the Gloom #1)

Soft footsteps padded across the floor. A wooden slat creaked—a sound so faint it could have been my imagination. Someone was in my room.

I willed my pulse to slow down and feigned sleep.

Close. Closer. Fabric rustled—he was reaching for me. My muscles flexed beneath the comforter, ready to react.

Now!

I catapulted, sheets flying as I lashed my leg out in a vicious strike. It connected with a solid mass, and a distinctly male grunt rewarded my efforts.

He went down.

I vaulted off the bed, fingers already grasping for my needles on the nightstand.

Empty. Damn it.

Panic flared, sharp and acrid in my throat as I dropped to my knees and scanned the shadowy floor. A glint caught my eye—there, on the far side of the bed. The bastard must have tossed them on his way down.

I crawled, but warm fingers clamped around my ankle. He yanked me backward, and I twisted, kicking out with every ounce of strength I could muster. I felt fuzzy, weak. My heel hammered his shoulder, and in the flickering candlelight, I caught a glimpse of familiar citron eyes.

“Harbinger!” I gasped.

What…? My head spun. I’d thought Lev Wurdulak was sneaking up into my room, finishing off what he’d started.

That split-second cost me. Harbinger dove at me. A wall of heat and muscle. The rush of blood in his veins became my whole world as he slapped my fists aside and pinned me to the floor. We wrestled for a hot second, the rough wooden boards scraping against my back. Then his legs trapped mine, and he leaned over, securing my right wrist above my head while my left arm pressed between us, against my sternum. He wrapped me up like a pretzel.

“Good morning, princess,” he rumbled, his hot breath brushing my cheek.

A shudder zipped through me—two parts hunger, one part lust, and the rest frustration with myself. I hated how my body betrayed me, craving him even as my mind screamed danger. The impact of all that masculinity should have waned by now. I should have developed immunity. Yet, here I was, once again, taken aback by the little golden feathers swirling around his pupils.

Harbinger tightened his grip, making the carved biceps in his arm bulge. I clearly recalled those iron-hard muscles flexing as he lifted me by my throat.

I squirmed beneath him, but it was like fighting a steel trap. “Funny,” I growled, “I don’t recall ordering a wake-up call.”

His lips quirked, revealing a hint of fang; he seemed pleased with himself. “Consider it a complimentary service.”

“Well, consider me serviced. You can let go now.”

“Hmm,” he mused, not budging an inch. “And miss out on all this quality time?”

“Let me go and I promised not to stab you.”

He chuckled, a low vibration I felt coursing through my bones. “Such a tempting offer. But I think I’ll stay right here. The view’s quite nice.”

Exhaustion weighed on me, the crushing hunger in my gut making it worse. I couldn’t out-muscle him, but a reckless part of me relished this proximity.

“What are you really doing here, Harbinger?”

His expression hardened, the cocky grin fading. “Checking up on you. Can’t have you making any… unfortunate decisions while your hunger’s still fresh.”

“How gallant,” I muttered. “And here I thought you’d just come for the sparkling conversation and—”

My stomach chose that moment to unleash an embarrassingly loud growl. Reality came crashing down; memories of the night before flooded back with nauseating clarity. The bloodlust ravaging my body, the putrid smell of the Nebula shattering my bones, Phoenix’s limp body crumpling to the ground. A heaviness seeped into my chest, and my spine turned to wet cotton.

The guilt I’d buried deep within me erupted like a volcano. Every regret—fleeing the Republic, abandoning my coven—every worry and pain I’d meticulously locked away so I could function… It all swelled into a crushing pressure.

Phoenix’s final plea echoed in my mind, shattering what little composure I had left. ‘I don’t want to die.’

My vision blurred, crimson haze bleeding into tears. Grief and hunger twisted together, awakening the monster lurking beneath my skin. I fought to contain it, muscles trembling with the effort, but it was like trying to hold back the ocean with my bare hands.

Then Harbinger’s scent hit me—roasted coffee beans and roses and something uniquely him. A flash of memory: his arms around me, keeping me safe as the world fell apart. It was the final crack in my defenses.

The floodgates burst open and drowned me.

My fangs descended with a painful snap. Every muscle in my body went rigid, my scalp prickling as if each individual hair stood on end. I could feel the change overtaking me, black veins creeping out from my hairline, spider-webbing across my face.

The monster was winning, and I was powerless to stop it.

“Fuck. This is what I was afraid of.” Harbinger’s hushed growl vibrated through me. His amber eyes darkened, a flicker of something—concern?—passing over his face. “Let it out, princess. I’m here. I won’t let you hurt anyone.”

But the remorse was stronger than the bloodlust, ripping me apart from the inside. A sob ripped from my throat, raw and fractured. “I had them… The Ignises were under my control. I thought… I thought…”

My heart thudded against my ribs, battering me with pain. I couldn’t tell where the hurt originated anymore—my chest, my gut. Everywhere ached. I craved release, but my eyes remained stubbornly dry, the pressure building and building with nowhere to go.

Shivering despite the heat radiating from Harbinger’s body, I clamped my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. The dagger point of a fang caught my bottom lip, and the metallic tang of blood flooded my mouth.

Harbinger shifted, and his face came into sharp focus.

Our stares collided. I saw my own hunger reflected in his scarlet-rimmed irises. It would take a dead woman not to respond to that, and I wasn’t dead. He’d saved me. Sliced through the Nebula, cradled me in his arms as my consciousness had slipped away.

His body pressed against mine, impossibly hard, hard thighs pinning me in place. The slightest movement would bring us even closer, dangerously so.

My senses heightened to a painful degree, aware of every point where we touched. “You shouldn’t be here,” I whispered, blinking away the red haze in my vision. He was too close, too warm, smelling delicious. “Why risk yourself when you know I’m on the edge?”

“Mmm.” His gaze roamed my face, lingering on my eyes before drifting to my lips. It made my skin tingle. “Are you hungry? The blood I shared… it should have healed the worst of it.”

His hold loosened.

I lay limp, caught between the urge to flee and the growing desire to draw him closer, to lose myself in him and escape the weight of my conscience, if only for a moment.

Hunger wore me down, but Harbinger’s face was a map of exhaustion and sorrow. I swallowed hard. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

His eyes narrowed. “Lying to me is a problem, princess. Bottling things up makes you easy prey.”

“Oh? You’ve got me all figured out, then?”

“I understand your motivations. It’s your methods that piss me off.” His jaw clenched. “Throwing yourself into danger won’t help anyone.”

A band tightened around my chest. If I’d found that marsh sooner, I could have warned Phoenix. She wouldn’t have gone to that glade alone. I could’ve saved her.

“I assure you, your feelings keep me up during the day,” I retorted.

A sound between a laugh and a growl rumbled in his throat. “Provoking me won’t work. Why were you there alone, without backup?”

If he knew how close I’d been to bloodlust… How it’d weakened me. I needed to change the subject. Fast.

“I work better alone. Like you. Or is stalking me a team sport now?”

“I’m not stalking—”

“What do you call this, then?” I glanced pointedly at our compromising position.

“Restraining a potentially dangerous opponent.”

“Right. Did you take a good peek while changing me?”

Disbelief flashed across his face, followed by indignation. “For your information, Miss Popescu changed you. She insisted on making you more… comfortable.” His gaze flickered downward for a fleeting second before snapping back to my face, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

Selena. Worry crystallized into a hard, cold knot in my stomach.

The need to know she was alright blinded me. I wrenched my arm free and slammed my elbow into his solar plexus.

He gasped, eyes widening in surprise.

I threw my weight to the side, twisting my hips, and landed on top. My knees pinned his arms, my forearm pressed firmly against his throat.

“ Where is she?” I demanded. “Where’s Selena?”

“Safe. Terraknight’s been with her since we returned.”

“The vice-captain , Terraknight?” Eloquence, thy name is Aurora.

A grin spread across his face, revealing those infuriatingly perfect dimples. “Seems she doesn’t mind the boy after all.”

Oh.

He adjusted to the new position, gold flashing in his eyes. “She suggested I give you small amounts of my blood, then let you feed until you’re satisfied.”

Harsh fabric scrapped against my thighs, and I glanced down. No. I was straddling Harbinger in nothing but a flimsy nightgown, the gossamer-thin material covering absolutely nothing. Completely bare underneath. I’m going to kill Selena.

His smirk was pure sin. “We haven’t gotten to the last part yet, have we, princess?”

Without warning, he jerked his arms out from under my knees, pulled me to him, uncaring of my elbow crashing into his windpipe, and pressed his blood-coated lips against mine.

Harbinger’s blood hit my tongue—intoxicating, undeniably original, spiced with varcolac.

The universe imploded. Stars rained down on my skin and obscured my vision.

A cramp wrenched my insides like a gasoline-drenched towel wrung out and set ablaze. I flicked my tongue, brushing his lips. My head swam.

Drunk on his taste and scent, I sank against him, seduced by the hard planes of his body. Every point of contact sent sparks skittering across my skin.

More.

“No!” Panic cut through the craving. I shoved against his chest, my palms burning with the touch. He held on a moment too long, his fingers digging into my hips before releasing me with a low, hungry growl.

I scrambled away, unsteady on my feet. “Are you insane? Flashing your blood at me like that?”

“You need to feed,” he said, matter of fact.

“Get out.”

He gave a dramatic sigh and leaped to his feet without the help of his hands. The candlelight caught the hard contours of his face, throwing shadows that accentuated his sharp cheekbones and the curve of his mouth. His sweet, sweet mouth…

I stumbled backward until my thighs hit the vanity. Pain throbbed through every inch of me—my throat, head, even my teeth. The room tilted and swayed, as if I were on the deck of a storm-tossed ship. It felt like someone had replaced my brain with molten lead, and now it sloshed and clanged in my skull.

Harbinger cornered the bed, looking sinfully tempting with his lips stained a deep red. The amber in his eyes blazed.

I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to push away the bone-deep fatigue and the overwhelming urge to give in.

Despite it all, I craved him—to bite into his flesh, to run my hands over his body, to feel his mouth on mine.

No.

No biting. No touching. No. Just no.

I pointed to the door, my arm trembling. “Leave.” Before I lose control.

Harbinger ignored me. “After your injuries, and not feeding for days? You must be dying to sink your fangs into a throat.” He tilted his head, exposing the strong column of his neck. “Take what you need, princess. I don’t mind.”

The way he looked at me as if I were the most important person in the world, would have weakened even the staunchest priestess in the knees. My rational side wavered, but primal instinct won. I lunged, slamming the vanity into the wall. The mirror cracked. Dozens of ceramic figurines took flight and shattered on the floor.

Harbinger caught me in his arms. His strong hands gripped my thighs and hoisted me up.

My fangs pierced golden skin, and he groaned—a deep, vibrating note that resonated straight to my core. I wrapped my legs around his waist, molding myself against his solid frame.

The world narrowed to a singular focus—nothing existed beyond the irresistible flow of his blood.

He carried us to the bed, the ancient springs protesting as he sat, me straddling his lap. His life-essence coursed through my veins, staunching the ravenous hunger and warming me in all the right places. Even if I wanted to stop—and by the stars, I didn’t—I couldn’t now.

I circled my arms around his neck, pushing my pebbled nipples against his chest. The hard muscles of his back bunched under my fingers.

More. I needed more.

I kissed his throat, his jaw, nipping his earlobe and licking at the sensitive spot just underneath. I savored the saltiness of his sweat and the sharp touch of stubble on my lips.

I bit him again, this time in the nook of his shoulder.

He made a quiet, masculine noise—half-growl, half-purr.

Oh, my God. His hands roamed my back, leaving trails of fire in their wake, drawing me closer until I felt the hard length of him pressed against me.

Oh yes.

“Aurora.” The husky timbre of his voice sent shivers cascading down my spine. He nuzzled my neck, his fangs scrapping the skin before he stilled. “If you don’t stop, I won’t be able to control myself any longer. I don’t want to hurt you.”

That did it.

My mind snapped into focus and pushed me through the fog of hunger and desire with an ice-cold hand. It shoved me past the brink of mindless want and back into the land of good judgment.

I froze, conscious of my nightgown bunched around my hips, my breasts pressed to his chest. A wave of pure lava rushed through me as I eased back, slowly uncurling my arms from his neck.

“You wouldn’t… hurt me,” I croaked, and meant it.

It wasn’t lost on me how naturally I trusted him with this. I didn’t think I would long for a man’s bite, but he made me feel safe against everything that went between us. He’d hurt me, and I was pretty sure he hated me. Despite that, Harbinger had saved my life when he could’ve just let me die. It would’ve been so easy for him to let me die.

“I’m sorry,” I sputtered. “I got carried away.”

Golden eyes… I looked into those eyes and saw little ruby fragments twirling in their depths. The ring around his irises glowed a bright crimson. And my heart made a little jump.

I’m in so much trouble.

I shifted, trying to cover myself, but the movement only caused more friction.

A deep grunt stirred in his chest. His eyes hooded, and for a heartbeat, I thought he might bite me back. Instead, he gripped my waist, lifting me effortlessly, and bolted to his feet.

“I wish the lieutenant had dressed you in something”—he leaned over to snatch the duvet, paused, then offered it to me—“more.”

I ignited. If the ground didn’t open up to swallow me, I’d dig a hole in the back garden and bury my head like an ostrich.

Our fingers brushed. He felt like fire. I was ice.

When I tugged, he didn’t let go.

The heat in his eyes cooled, and I sensed him raising his walls. “You were calling your father in your sleep.”

My heartbeat slowed. An icy claw gripped my chest, freezing the breath he had warmed in my lungs. “Sometimes when a mission goes wrong, his death haunts me,” I whispered.

He released the quilt, and I wrapped it around myself like armor.

“You were there when he died. Is that how you got your scars?”

Of course he had to bring that up.

I shook my head, not trusting my voice.

“You mentioned someone else—an outlier.” Any trace of softness in Harbinger’s demeanor vanished, replaced by something harder. Dangerous. Lethal. “Is he the one who saved you that night?”

The change in him extinguished whatever spark had kindled between us, and it struck me. Was this why he’d saved me? Watched me sleep, pinned me down, shared his blood—all an elaborate ploy to interrogate me about the varcolac?

I should have broken his nose. Instead, I’d fallen right into his trap, seduced by those cursed lips and my desperate hunger. And worse—I still wanted more.

“Yes.” My voice came out flat, a one-note gathering of words stripped of any feeling.

“What’s his name?”

“I’ll tell you, if you tell me about your magic.”

“Fine. You go first. Start with what happened that night.”

I arched an eyebrow. “What are you, a child?”

He crossed his arms, giving me a condescending look. This was my chance to learn more about him, too. Better that the gloves came off.

I inhaled deeply and let the air out slowly, exhaling anxiety with it. The only thing I loathed more than recounting my last birthday was revisiting the night my father died.

Pulling the comforter tighter, I settled cross-legged on the bed. “I was thirteen when Father took me on that surveillance flight,” I said in a quiet rasp. “He was the General of the Republic’s Great Army. Finding a pilot willing to fly us into the congested zone was child’s play.”

Harbinger’s eyes took on a steely glint. “And why would the great Vlad Tepes risk his daughter’s life?”

“To teach me a lesson. To show me the true face of war.” My heart clenched as I remembered his forlorn expression, the firm grip on my shoulders as he spoke what would be his final words.

‘Aurora, one day you’ll take my seat,’ his rich voice resounded in my mind. ‘As Dracula’s successors, it’s our duty to protect the motherland and all citizens of the Republic. I failed, and I’ll carry this burden to my grave.’

The tightness in my windpipe swelled, choking my words. I swallowed, once, twice, before I could continue. “He believed it wasn’t too late to stop the injustice. He said we needed allies, people to support us, to prevent another incident like the Seventh Ward.

“It wasn’t until years later that I realized he was talking about the Total Rendition.” It came out as a strangled whisper, but I forced myself to meet Harbinger’s hard gaze. “The council had outvoted him. While he led the army against Russkaya’s abominations, the government betrayed him, betrayed its own people.”

“Betrayed?” Harbinger snarled, his irises starting to glow. “You’re either lying through your teeth or you’re pitifully ignorant, princess. What your government did wasn’t just betrayal. It was a slaughter. Brutality on a scale you can’t even imagine.”

An aura of menace radiated off him that raised the hair at my nape. I’d seen him cut through Stalkers with the same force as a tempest and witnessed his cold, calculated rage. Both were equally terrifying. But this…

The gold fire in his eyes triggered something primal within me, a fear as old as the first spark of darkness. It bypassed all reason and logic, addressing to the most ancient part of my being. That fear didn’t just paralyze me—it threatened to devour me whole. I couldn’t rationalize it away, couldn’t fight it with mere willpower. If he unleashed the glare to its full intensity, I knew I’d break apart.

“Were you there?” I tried to hide the tremor in my voice, but it slipped through.

He drew in a harsh breath, a storm darkening his features. “I was too late. The evacuation had already begun. My parents… the Republic murdered them before even announcing the War Act. They herded everyone with mixed blood into the Seventh Ward for ‘relocation’ and left lower-class purebloods in charge. Not guards—just violent, bloodthirsty scum who’d played gods with their magic. Things went to hell quickly.”

“Did they… hurt you?”

He shook his head. “I was among the first loaded onto the trucks. Most surrendered, but those bastards killed at random anyway. Two young varvas watched their parents beaten to death.” His voice tightened with his rage. “Those pureblood bastards found it amusing. The older sister’s defiance, her refusal to cry… haunted me for years. Like many others, those girls will never forgive the Republic.”

My heart shattered into a thousand razor-sharp pieces, each one cutting deeper than the last. Derzelas, I knew it had been bad, but this… How sheltered had I been in Father’s fortress? Why wasn’t this common knowledge?

My plans to unite the Republic, to bridge the divide between purebloods and mixed-bloods, suddenly seemed laughably na?ve. Not even an eternity would be enough to heal these wounds, to bring these fractured people together.

The future I’d envisioned—a strong, united Republic—went to dust before my eyes. How could I possibly make amends for the atrocities of the past?

Harbinger crossed his arms, his muscles bulging. “Your father’s zeppelin—did it fly over the battlefield?”

I nodded, recalling how the First Ward’s grand gates had shrunk beneath us, giving way to barbed wire and minefields. “Father insisted on showing me the frontline. The Stalkers shouldn’t have attacked so close to sunrise…”

“Projector, did the Glacies attack that night?”

“No, it was too overcast. A Magma Lance struck the back propeller—”

“It was the Gloom,” he muttered.

“What was?”

“It wasn’t clouds you saw. It was sand.”

“The Limus-sand mist? But we were airborne!”

Harbinger vanished, then materialized in a crouch before me, and I gasped, clutching my chest.

“Ever wondered why you’re cut off from other countries?” His eyes twitched, searching my face.

“We’re not ‘cut off,’” I protested. “They shoot our carrier birds down from the sky.”

He scoffed, raking his fingers through his frosted locks. “That’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve heard in a while, princess. And that’s saying something, considering I’m living with Quakelord. The Gloom is sentient. It communicates with other Stalkers. That magma attack? Wasn’t random.” Harbinger shook his head. “They knew . They knew exactly where you were.”

He rose, lifted the oak chest by the end of the bed, and dropped it in front of me. Plopping down on the lid, he propped one leg over his knee. “The Limuses blanket everything north of Brasov. Nothing gets in or out without their knowledge.” He lowered his voice to a hush as if sharing a secret. “Still believe someone’s shooting your birds from the sky?”