Page 10 of The Forsaken Vampire

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When I woke up the next morning, my muscles screamed with soreness. I may have held my own against my father, but I knew he wasn’t lying in bed right now because he was too sore to move. “Ugh…” I finally got to my feet and walked to the windows, pulling the curtains open to reveal the golden morning. I went to the last window that had a view of the village, and the second I looked down, I noticed it.

A statue.

Made of white marble, it was smooth and finished, and it showed a pair of lovers locked in a passionate embrace. The man palmed her cheeks as he kissed her, her dress blowing in the invisible breeze, his arms bulging with strength from his craft. “Oh fuck.”

I quickly got dressed then departed the castle without having breakfast. It was a morning routine I shared with my family, because my father got busier as the day went on, and most nights, he had dinner alone in his study. But I had to address this before he found out about it.

That would bebaaaaad.

I nearly ran down the cobblestone streets to his shop. It was still early in the morning, so the streets were empty as people enjoyed their breakfasts in their homes. I turned the knob to let myself in, but it was locked. I tried the knob again, but it wouldn’t budge. “Ethan!” I grabbed a pebble and chucked it at his window. The pebble bounced off so I grabbed another, and I must have thrown it too hard because the glass shattered. “Whoops…”

Ethan appeared a moment later, his hair tousled after a night of sleep. He was shirtless, and his tired eyes barely showed his annoyance. He gripped the windowsill and looked down at me, saying nothing because he knew exactly why I was there. Then he disappeared, probably to head downstairs and let me into the shop.

The door opened a moment later, and I stormed inside. “What the fuck, Ethan?” I rounded on him the second I was inside.

He gave a gentle push on the door then walked past me as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. He was in his lounge pants and nothing else, his strong back chiseled from all his hard work on his pieces.

“Hello?”

“I’ve been awake for two minutes.”

“Oh, did I ruin your morning? Because my morning was ruined when I saw that damn statue beneath my window.”

He dragged his hands down his face before he faced me head on. “Did you like it?”

“Did I like it?” I asked incredulously. “How did you even move it?”

“Answer the question.”

“Ethan, you’re the best artist Delacroix has ever had. Of course I love your work.”

“Still didn’t answer the question.”

“No. It pissed me off—as you can see.” I threw my arms around frantically.

“You’re fully clothed—”

“That’s not the point. You need to move it before someone sees it—like my father.”

“I don’t care if he sees it.”

“Well, you really should.”

“I don’t care if he knows I love his daughter. I’ll say it to his face.”

I sighed as I dragged my hands down my face. “Ethan, stop this. You can’t win me over with a sculpture—”

“You think another man would do that for you?”

“Not a man I want,” I snapped.

His stony expression remained chiseled in his hard face.

“Stop this.”

“I’m not a general or a soldier, but my art can inflict just as much pain as a blade. I’m worthy of you despite what you think.”