Page 141 of The Ballad of the Vampire Prince

“That date… is the day Rhianelle was born?” I stammer with disbelief.

“Yeah.”

His simple answer cleaves me in two. My body goes statue-still, every system paralyzing as I lean my back against the tree.

It’s too much of a coincidence.

Sometimes I wonder if there was something more powerful at play when Rhianelle stumbled into my prison in that dark dungeon.

Garett is too focussed on his art to notice my sudden distraught, but the peddler catches it instantly and settles beside me. “Does the date mean something to you, young man?”

“It does.”

I remember that cold, dark night when the sky was starless and my soul was shattered into fucking ruins. I could no longer bear my insufferable existence, the filth, the devastation…

I want an end.

“Perhaps it’s kismet then,” the old woman suggests with a knowing look on her face.

I tamp down a laugh. There’s no such thing.

“I don’t believe in fate,” I tell her straight.

Her silver eyes glint like molten metal. “A shame then. Because she believes in you.”

Chapter 20 Rhianelle

Asmile curves my lips at the sight of the butterfly shaped bottle of salve on the wash counter. Svenn has been leaving me these foreign souvenirs he got from Avalon and Myrkheim. I’m rich with all kinds of soaps and scents now. Some I keep like a trophy, some I gave to Tallula, Lenna, Siofra, and Lady Deirdre.

I peer behind the bath chamber door carefully. Svenn is perched on the windowsill in nothing but his leather pants. I’m beginning to think he has a skin affliction to fabrics, an illness the Hlaryan elves called allergies.

His eyes are fixed on the page of the book in his hand. Watching the vampire read is one of the most fascinating things I’ve ever seen. Sometimes he would flip the pages after one or two seconds, and other times he would dwell on a single page for hours.

Tallula and Lenna surprise me this morning by bringing me a lovely new gown with a shimmery topaz outer layer. The neckline plunges boldly to the curve of my breast, far lower than I’m comfortable with. I know this dress is definitely something Svenn would call ‘prey-like behavior.’

I slip out of the dressing partition, pretending to pick up the parchment from the long table. My instinct is telling me I’m being watched.

I know that… But I silently count to sixty before I lift my gaze to him. My heart goes into a fatalistic free fall. Svenn is looking at me like a wolf who happened across a deer in the forest.

Yes, this is a dangerous, delicate game I’m playing. One that requires me to bet my life on it, but it’s worth it. Because in this brief moment in time, he is mine. I understand that I can never fully have him.

I am a Curse Bearer, Lilith’s heir.

But I know I had just stolen his heart right at this moment. Even if it’s just for one second.

I walk past him slowly, knowing he’ll pull me into his arms. He grabs my waist faster than anticipated, hauling my body against his.

I release a slow breath and inhale deeply.

His familiar scent fills my lungs as I lay my head on the hard ridge of his chest. There is nothing soft about him. His muscles and body are as hard as granite. He pulls me closer, his body heat mingling with mine.

“You’re wrinkling my dress,” I feign a protest.

“You know what would happen the moment you wore it,” he growls to my hair.

The man knows me too well.

Days have gone by and his theory is proven to be true. The bond is appeased by physical interaction. I loop my hands around his neck, wiggling to a more comfortable position. This is normal and natural for us now.