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This entire time, the apparition of Zedya floating next to him had felt so vague and distant, it was hard to feel drawn to the visions of their future that she presented.

He felt like he was watching a play on a stage, but the people he watched were only actors, and toward the end of the vision of the battle she presented, they had become little more than puppets.

It wasn’t really him, and it wasn’t her either.

Now that Zedya had pushed even further, however, fully immersing herself in this space between life and darkness, he finally glimpsed the woman he’d given his heart to. The woman that he would give anything for and that he wanted to offer a lifetime of companionship to.

"Zedya, my wife," he said, licking his lips and speaking with a voice that had grown hoarse and strained.

His body felt weak and frail, lacking the strength it should to protect and hold his love close, and he had no warmth to offer her even as he wrapped his large, furry arms around her.

But even if he lacked warmth, there was still plenty of him left that he wanted to give to her, to share with her, now and forever after.

"It doesn’t matter where we are," he said, licking his lips again and tasting a strange metallic sweetness when he did. The taste reminded him of the kiss they’d shared after they spoke their vows, but somehow it was.

.. softer. More delicate. It evaporated from his tongue like spun sugar as soon as he licked it, leaving him wanting more.

More of her taste, more of her touch, and much, much more of her time.

"It’s enough if I’m here with you," he said, his voice gaining strength as a pale amethyst flame, resembling a reflection of Zedya’s eyes, began to glitter in the depths of his soft, brown eyes.

"It would be enough to have time with you all to myself," he said, reaching up to caress her cheek, wiping away the faintly pink tears that spilled from her eyes.

Around them, the faintest of illusory walls shimmered into existence, holding back the darkness of the void as they transformed into a simple, familiar room.

Cold stone walls, a neatly made bed with crisply folded sheets, a single dresser, and a desk were enough to make it clear that it was the room of a soldier, one who had spent a lifetime in service to his Lady rather than building a life for himself.

"Just you," Lennart said, reaching out with trembling hands to unlace the corset that trapped Zedya in her dark wedding dress.

His hands shook and his fingers fumbled with the laces before he turned a sharp claw on them, cutting his way through the laces as the amethyst flames of desire within his eyes grew brighter.

"Anywhere, anything, as long as we’re together..." he said in a voice that grew deeper, husky with hunger and desire.

"Oh Lenny, my dearest Lenny," Zedya said softly, cupping his face with one hand and drawing his lips toward hers.

Their lips brushed against each other for less than a breath before she redirected his face, placing her bleeding wrist before his lips and squeezing out several drops of intoxicatingly sweet, deep crimson blood.

"I will give myself to you," she whispered. "I will give all that I am to you, but it has to start here," she insisted. "Drink deep, my husband. Drink deep and I will be forever yours."

In the soft glowing light of dozens of candles in the cave where the ceremony had been held, Nyrielle hovered behind Zedya.

Her eyes had become inky pools of darkness filled with countless tiny motes of light as though her eyes contained the infinite night sky.

On one finger, a small pinprick was slowly healing, leaving behind the faintest trace of blood.

A matching crimson stain adorned the corner of Zedya’s lips, all that remained of the offering Nyrielle had given her when it became clear that Zedya intended to risk it all to pull Lennart back from the darkness of the abyss.

Now that things had come so far, there was little that Nyrille could do to protect her progeny and the man Zedya had given her heart to, but if it was this much, giving her the extra strength to reach more deeply into the abyss than should have been possible for anyone other than a True Vampire.

.. After everything Zedya had done for her in a lifetime of service, it felt like far too little, but she hoped it would be enough.

Suddenly, the temperature in the room plummeted as a dark wind began to swirl through the room.

Plants that lost their leaves in winter wilted early, curling back into a slumber that would last through the months of darkness and protecting themselves from the inescapable death promised by the abyss.

Moving slowly, as if she was only barely aware of her body in the waking world, Zedya brought her bleeding wrist to Lennart’s lips, squeezing out several fresh drops of blood that fell directly into her dying husband’s open mouth.

This time, however, Lennart drew a deep, shuddering breath before licking his lips, savoring the metallic sweetness that contained his wife’s enduring love and her deep anxiety that this night together might be their last.

The next moment, Lennart’s eyes snapped open, burning with the hot violet flames of hunger and desire.

His arms twitched, regaining the strength to fold themselves around Zedya’s slender figure in a gentle embrace while his mouth locked onto her bleeding wrist, drinking deeply of the life and power his wife offered freely.

The dark wind in the room spun faster and faster, turning into a tempest that shrank in size even as it increased in intensity until the winds wrapped entirely around Zedya and the first of her progeny.

Amethyst flames spilled from Zedya’s eyes, swirling in the darkness like a dancer with a torch in the dark of night.

With each swallow of potent blood that flowed past Lennart’s lips, the whirlwind grew faster, and the pressure of its power grew greater.

The hunger burning in his chest grew greater and greater, but with every passing second, that hunger turned further and further away from Zedya’s bloody wrist and toward the dark, intoxicating power swirling around them.

"Breathe it in, my dear," Zedya whispered, stroking the soft fur of Lennart’s face with her free hand. "This is the power you’ve called from the void. This is the strength you need to resist the pull of the abyss. Breathe it in. Make it yours, and live with me forevermore."

It took an act of tremendous will to pull free of Zedya’s wrist, but when he did and took a deep breath, the power of darkness poured into his body, filling his lungs, his muscles, his bones, and every fiber of his being with a strength and vitality greater than anything he had ever felt before.

The surge of power was followed by brief, searing pain in his eyes as the dark, chocolaty pigment in his gentle eyes burned away, leaving behind irises that were pale lavender with flecks of darker amethyst that gave them an enchanting, otherworldly depth and marked him as one of Zedya’s progeny.

"Raaaaaaaaawwwrrrrrr!"

Lennart lifted his head up high, his lavender eyes fixed on the darkness of the night sky above.

He roared in pain and adulation, and his heart finally beat again.

One powerful pulse for every ten it would have beat before, but strong and resonating with an echo of the heartbeat of the woman who gave him this rebirth.

"Lenny," Zedya whispered, cupping his face and turning his gaze back to her. "My husband," she said, a smile forming on her lips even as pinkish tears spilled from her eyes. "You’ve done it."

"We’ve done it," Lennart corrected, holding her tightly in his arms as he lowered his lips to hers. "We’ve done it together. Now and forevermore," he whispered before his lips brushed hers, savoring her taste as they fell into a world that belonged to them and them alone.

"Congratulations," Nyrielle said softly as she faded into the darkness. In the nights to come, there would be much for Lennart to learn as he entered his blossoming period, but those things could wait for another night.

Now, it was the lucky couple’s wedding night, and Nyrielle had no intention of lingering to disturb them when they no longer needed her.

Now, she only hoped that things were proceeding as smoothly for Ollie as they had for Zedya and Lennart.

.. The Vale of Mists had just welcomed its first new vampire in more than two decades.

If it could also welcome a new witch... It would change the fate of the Vale just as much as Lennart’s transformation, if not more.

But more importantly, it would add a pillar of strength and a precious guardian at her darling Ashlynn’s side, and it would help to fill the hole in her lover’s heart that had formed when she was torn away from her family by someone’s callous act of betrayal.

It shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did, and the Nyrielle of old would certainly have laughed at the anxious woman who flew through the night to reach her lover’s side, but the Nyrielle of tonight was a different woman than she had been before.

Tonight’s Nyrielle didn’t care whether or not the Vale of Mists gained a powerful witch, as long as Ashlynn didn’t have to suffer the loss of someone she had chosen to welcome into her coven and her family... that would be enough to fill Nyrielle’s heart with warmth for several nights to come.

But unlike what she was able to do with Zedya, offering a bit of her strength to ensure her success, there was nothing she could do to help Ashlynn tonight. She could only put her faith in the former kitchen boy and hope that Ollie was as capable as Thane said he was.