Page 2

CHAPTER TWO

I f this pretty fae didn’t shoot him in the heart, he might survive this encounter.

It would be a shame to drain all her blood, but if she didn't lower her weapon, he would be compelled to act.

Lucius was not going back into that coffin.

The female watched him with deep concern, then finally put her crossbow away.

“Fine,” she said. “Let’s talk.”

“Before we embark on this new endeavor,” he said, standing and brushing off the decades of dust on his clothes, “I need to return home.”

“Home?” she said. “I haven’t agreed to anything yet. ”

“Tsk, tsk, little dove. Before we discuss our future, we should leave this scene before someone finds out what you’ve done.”

The scare tactic seemed to work as the female turned to regard the dead bodies. “Where do you live?”

Lucius examined the area, having no idea where he was. After the first few years in the coffin, he had fallen into a deep slumber—a meditative state that kept his sanity intact.

“Would you mind sharing where we are on the continent?” he asked. “Are we still on the continent?”

“Yes,” she said. “We’re about thirty miles from the Crusted Mountains.”

“Hmm. Well, that makes things much easier. It just so happens that I live on the eastern side, close to the shore of the Agis Sea. Now, you wouldn’t happen to have a transporter rod, would you?”

She shook her head. “Maybe one of the guards does.”

She eyed him before going to one of the bodies and shuffling through their pockets. Lucius pretended not to notice her pocketing any coins or jewelry she found and kept his comments to himself.

He watched as she carefully inspected each body .

Lucius might have been asleep for decades, but he still knew beauty when he saw it, and this pretty dove was quite magnificent. He’d never seen a fae with her teal-colored hair. Two braids brushed the top of her shoulders, the rest of her hair hanging just above.

He wondered what type of green her eyes were. Close to his, but lighter—like the shade wasn’t sure if it was green or blue and somehow got stuck muddied in between.

And those lips . . .

My, my.

What a crime to have such full, pouty lips and not use them. His thoughts ravished her, and a pang of hunger that needed to be sated forced his gaze to her slender neck, no longer hidden by the hood of her cloak. He could see the heat—how the blood pumped.

Lucius shook his head.

He’d have to be careful around this one.

Over the years, before his capture, he had done his best to limit his appetite to smaller, unintelligent creatures .

He hadn’t feasted on human blood in even longer—and on fae? Longer still.

Would she taste sweet, or would she have a savory, salty taste like humans?

Lucius groaned, shaking his head, and turning his back.

He needed to get away from her, just for a moment, to feed on something. His gaze went to one of the bodies. And while he was not a fan of feeding on something that had recently died, he needed sustenance and did not want to bite into his pretty rescuer.

While she rummaged through the carriage, searching the front where the driver had been, Lucius took that moment to dig his fangs into one of the other humans. Once he had his fill, he wiped his mouth, satisfied his hunger would be quenched for now.

“I found one,” she said, coming around the front. She looked at Lucius, then at the body at his feet, and at the blood dripping from his snack. “Do I need to worry about being your next meal?”

Silver flashed, and she had a blade up, pointed at Lucius’ throat.

He smirked. “Not yet, my sweet. ”

He held out his hand, urging her to hand over the transporter rod.

These devilish little devices made travel easy.

Simply click the rune, visualize the place you wanted to go, and a portal would appear, taking you miles away.

The possibilities were endless. The magical tech was one of Saol's greatest inventions, outside of the magical dampeners for anyone who wanted to suppress magical powers.

Though Lucius’ parents, when he was young, believed he had some trickling of illusionary magic—mainly because they were moon fae and he seemed exceedingly lucky—Lucius could wield fire, which made things exceedingly convenient for a vampyre.

His natural affinity for heat kept him alive when others of his kind had to run from the sunlight.

He assumed it was why that trickster fae had seduced him into giving away all his secrets and then selling him to the Brotherhood for experimentation purposes.

But that train of thought was for another time. For now, Lucius needed to return home.

Before they left, he thought it would be best to remove any evidence of his survival .

“Stand back, pretty dove.” With his right hand, he shot a funnel of fire.

The fae at his side gasped, most likely because a vampyre wielding fire seemed contradictory.

Slowly, Lucious burned the bodies, the caravan, then his coffin.

A burning anger rose within him, matching the ferocity of the fire. Lucious would not let that rage consume him.

He was free.

Something he never believed possible, and he would not squander this moment.

Though . . . there was one thing he needed to retrieve before he could leave the horror of all those years spent in a coffin.

With the fire destroying the caravan, Lucious turned his back on the blaze.

He took the transporter rod, placed his thumb on the rune, and visualized his home, nestled in the forest, away from any village.

The portal opened, and he held out a hand.

“Ladies first, but I do think proper introductions are in order before you come into my home. I am Lucius.” He gave a small bow.

“Tavia,” she said, tucking her hair behind her pointed ear, then whistled, and a furry little squirrel rustled up her clothing to sit on her shoulder. “And this is Wiley.”

“Beautiful name,” Lucius said.

As expected, she did not thank him for the compliment and stepped into the portal. He followed her, closing the portal behind them and slipping the transporter rod into his pocket.

The illusionary spell he had paid quite a lot of money for had still held after all these years.

To anyone else, it would appear to be just trees—a very dense forest. But Lucius knew what really hid behind that illusion.

“You live here?” she asked, looking around, her gaze scanning the surroundings, most likely searching for a home that did not appear to be there.

“I do,” he said. “It’s quite a lovely home.”

“I don’t see anything.”

“Ah, because you’re not looking carefully.” He patted her on the shoulder, and she flinched, jerking away from him.

Wiley made a high-pitched chirp and stood up on two legs as if he would protect the fair maiden he rested on.

“Easy,” Lucius said. “I won’t bite unless you ask. And even then, I promise not to bite too hard.”

She glared at him, her gaze simmering with delicious anger.

“Come.” Lucius walked ahead, straight to the thick woods. “Now, if memory serves me right, the rune should be . . .”

He searched for the tree with dark bark, a slight mutation in its color, and a faint marking in the center. He placed his hand on the bark, and the rune activated, glowing purple.

The rune linked to his encoding, and only he could dispel the illusion and unlock his home. It was well worth the price he had paid.

As the illusion dissipated, his white stone home came into view. Ivy had crawled along the house, encasing it. Wild foliage had overrun the stone walkway and gardens.

Tavia glanced around, eyes wide with wonder. “How did no one find this?”

“The rune—the illusion—protected it. No one would have been able to find it, even if they could dispel the magic. Runes can be powerful magical components if infused with the proper elements. Are you familiar with rune magic?”

With thirteen elemental powers and hundreds of varied mutations, the possibilities were endless.

Her cheeks flushed slightly. “No. My family, we . . .”

She stammered over her words, and for the first time, Lucius saw the little dove unnerved.

“Well,” he said, interrupting her frazzled explanation, “this type of spell locks the illusion so no one would have been able to open the door.”

Pushing aside the foliage covering the main door, he grabbed the knob and turned.

They stepped inside, dust covering much of the space. Although slightly disheveled, the white parlor held a certain timeless elegance.

As Tavia looked around, his gaze lingered on her. There was something captivating about this fae, and despite the dangers and uncertainties, he felt a peculiar sense of anticipation .

Whether it was the decades of nothingness or the surging hunger to experience all he had missed, he eagerly delighted in spending his first night outside the coffin with this pretty fae.

But like all past mistakes, he had to be wary of his guest.

The last beauty to enter this home had betrayed him, and he vowed never to trust an endearing female again.