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Sixty-One

ALEC

The room is eerily silent after Freya leaves, and it’s only after a heavy moment, the silence is broken by the High Priestess’s daughter.

“Mom, she can’t be serious! We just got Harlow back.”

Morgan stands, wandering across the room to Freya’s seat. She doesn’t want to make us leave, but her expression says she will. Honestly, I’m okay with it. I’d much rather have Harlow to myself in our castle, but I was also fine with camping in Banff so Harlow could reconnect with her coven.

“Freya knows best,” she murmurs, defeated. “She’s following Hecate’s orders, which means we must as well. Harlow, you are welcome back anytime. Anytime .” Her repeated word, spoke with emphasis, is directed toward me.

Harlow stands, pulling Carina up with her. The two share a look I can’t distinguish before she heads my way. “It’s probably best, anyway. Settling into the coven after all this time was one thing, but as a newly changed vampire…I wouldn’t want anyone to fear me, especially if something triggers my control. Then there’s my black magick. I don’t want to accidentally corrupt anyone.”

Morgan nods, understanding, but her lips are tight. “I suppose this is it then.”

Carina pouts and throws her arms around my mate. She whispers something in Harlow’s ear, earning a mutual grin from the two women and a headshake from Harlow.

Next Morgan sweeps her up in her arms. “At least this time I get to say a proper goodbye and know that you may be gone but you’re alive and well.” She sighs. “You’ve probably had enough parents to last a lifetime, but I truly think of you as my own. Always have, always will, which is why if you need anything , do not hesitate to reach out.” She cups Harlow’s face, gazing at her in awe. “No matter what’s happened, you’ll always be a part of this coven. If you want to come for a Circle, or a holiday celebration, you do that. You were a witch before you were a vampire, and that’ll never change. Vampirism suits you.”

“Bit ironic,” Carina chimes. “The witch once holding the cure to vampirism ended up as one.”

That earns a laugh from Harlow. “Maybe it was fate. Morgan, thank you for finding me that night, for bringing me home, for showing me what I’ve always had…even if I didn’t know it.”

The two share a final hug before Harlow returns to my side, taking my hand. “Ready if you are.”

Harlow heads for the door, but I’m stopped by the High Priestess. She holds out a hand for me to shake. “You’re not so bad, vampire. Take care of our Harlow, won’t you.”

“Always.”

Taking Harlow’s hand, we exit the house and walk through the quiet night with the two witches watching from the doorway. We pass the Sinclair house where Harlow pauses.

I’m sure Morgan would allow you to make it your own. We’ll redo the windows to ensure it’s safe for us to visit.

She doesn’t reply but a gentle feeling brushes against the bond before she pulls me along and past the other houses, its residents tucked in for the night. We walk through the deserted streets of the main strip, and she points out some of the places Carina showed her the other day, including a restaurant titled BeaverTails, lamenting how she’ll miss those in her diet.

We exit Banff hand in hand and run home.

* * *

Hours later, we arrive on my territory, the grounds a welcome familiarity.

“Crazy how different everything feels now. I can smell it so much more intensely.”

I tug her close, dropping my face into her neck and inhaling her scent. It’s mingled with dirt and blood from yesterday.

“Now you know how it was for me. Imagine all the forest’s varying scents, and then you dropped into the centre of it. Your blood pounding, your heartbeat racing, your feet disrupting the landscape. You were impossible to not find. A beacon amongst nature.”

“What did I smell like to you?”

“Bliss,” I reply simply, tightening my arm around her body. “From the minute I met you, you smelled different to me. I assumed it was the cure, but none of your ancestors held the same intrigue for me. Somehow, I believe my body recognized you as my Bride.”

“And what do I smell like now?”

“Mine.”

She smacks my chest. “I’m serious.”

“I am too. Our scents are intermingled so others see my claim on you. Then there’s the additional scents you layer onto your natural one: shampoo, perfume, and such. You smell even sweeter now as a vampire, but the hunger I feel for you no longer makes me want to rip you apart. I’ll destroy you, certainly, but without lasting damage.”

She tips her head back, brows furrowing. “You say that like you weren’t in control the entire time.”

“Age helped. Doesn’t mean you didn’t smell like a fucking meal every second of the day.”

“Huh. Well, damn.” Her nose wrinkles. “I’d say sorry but you were the asshole who kidnapped me.”

“Damn right and I’m not apologizing.” My lips trail up the side of her neck and over my bite marks. I tickle the base of her ear, my whisper for her alone, unheard by the creatures around. “You have no fucking idea how much I enjoyed hunting you that night, so I’d like to propose round two. Up the stakes a bit. Train you in your new abilities.”

Her eyes flash red, the purple returning slowly. She’s intrigued as she twists in my arm. “Do tell.”

“Hunt me, Hellion. Give me a two-minute head start to hide somewhere in this forest. I won’t make it easy on you. Use your senses, not the bond. Sight and hearing; track me as if I were any other vampire or even prey.”

She grins and nods eagerly, jerking her chin. “Two minutes then. Run fast.”

With a final wink, I take off into the trees, running straight for a while, knowing her newfound abilities will allow her to track me. Once a distance away, I change direction.

It’s strange being the prey, but for Harlow, I’ll be whatever she needs.