Page 26 of Tryst or Treat (Season’s Readings #3)

T he moment Vlad’s blood touched her tongue, Belladonna’s magic woke. It stirred within her veins like a dragon waking from its slumber. Her fingers twitched. Her skin burned, and the wards inside her shattered. Vlad screamed in agony as his own son ordered his death, but Belladonna would not let him die. She would not let him leave her. How often had she practiced casting spells within a warded mansion? How often had she brewed potions in a kitchen that should’ve prevented her magic? There was a reason Rowena kept her hidden. A reason she was the coven’s heir, and after months of honing her skills in a magic-less house, her body exploded. She’d trained for this, had grown stronger for this, and she roared her rage.

A shockwave emanated from her chest, throwing the attacking vampires onto their backs. With an expert twist of her fingers, she cast a spell, and her chains shattered, collapsing to the floor in broken shards. Belladonna launched to her feet, arms outstretched as she absorbed the magic of Halloween night, absorbed the energy of her true love’s blood. Vampires drank from their mates to strengthen their bond, but because no witch had ever loved a bloodsucker, they didn’t understand the power of blood sharing. But she did. She’d sealed their marriage with that single taste, and Vlad's strength now flowed through her.

Belladonna launched into the air, rising high above the shocked vampires as her hands contorted. Spell after powerful spell, she cast magic at her enemy, and even though she was outnumbered, they were no match for her. The world hadn’t felt power like hers in centuries. Power born of love and not war. Power that not even wards could contain.

“Surrender, or I will flay the flesh from your bones,” she growled, her voice deep and otherworldly, as if every witch who’d come before her, and who would come after her, spoke through her words.

“Never!” Gabriel shouted. “Kill her!”

The vampires rushed forward, and with a flash of her eyes, her fingers twisted in a spell. Her attackers screamed in agony as magic peeled their flesh and muscles from their bones, and when only their skeletons remained, Belladonna lowered her hovering body to the ground.

“You see what I can do,” she boomed as she cast a healing spell over her husband’s collapsed form. “Surrender, and I will spare you. Your father doesn’t want your death.”

“Never!” Gabriel snarled. “I will never bow to a witch.” He turned to his remaining army. “What are you waiting for? Kill her!”

The vampires looked from Gabriel to Belladonna, and then, with hesitant movements, they fell to their knees among the bones of their fallen brethren. They understood defying the witch was a death sentence, and for a silent moment, no one moved until a massive vampire shifted to meet her gaze .

“We surrender,” he whispered. “I only ask that you have mercy on my family. I understand my life is forfeit, but I beg you to please spare my children.”

“You will pay for your actions here tonight,” Belladonna roared, casting a spell to chain the vampires on their knees. “You’ll pay for your crimes against my husband, but not with your lives.” Her voice softened as the army stared at her with open mouths and wide eyes. “My mother knew what I was. She prepared me for this day, but I stand before you with my full power realized to tell you I don’t intend to use my magic for war. I don’t wish to destroy the vampires because I love one, and I believe Halloween is big enough for all of us. I’ll leave your punishment to Vlad and my mother’s discretion since they’re still our leaders. But I won’t demand your deaths. If we’re going to achieve true peace, the fighting has to end, and I choose to stop it here and now.”

The vampires bowed in respect, but Gabriel’s eyes flashed with murder. Without warning, he leaped for her. Belladonna’s fingers flinched, her magic spread too thin as she contained the army on their knees and healed her husband. His predatory nature was too fast for her to cast a protection spell, but just before the tip of his sharpened stake dug into her heart, a massive frame lunged in front of her.

Vlad grunted as the weapon plunged into his ribs, his body crashing into hers as he stumbled. Belladonna knew his incredible height meant the stake was aimed too low. Her heart barely reached his ribcage, but she was blind to logic as the man she loved was skewered by his own son. The only reason Gabriel had the upper hand was because Vlad couldn’t kill his only child, but she didn’t blame him. No matter her sins, Rowena could never harm her, and her husband was no different. His love for his child stayed his hand, but his devotion to her surpassed his own need to survive. He willingly took her place to save her, but she wouldn’t let him sacrifice himself on her behalf. Not when her life was meaningless without him, so she raised her arms, praying Vlad’s strength would hold out long enough for her to draw from their bond.

Gabriel shrieked, his body flying backward to hover in the air, and Belladonna stared up at his flailing form in shock. She hadn’t completed the spell. Her fingers were still casting. Her incomplete magic hadn’t done this, but then her power connected with a presence that filled her with warm relief.

“Not my daughter!” Rowena bellowed as she, Magnus, and the coven leaders swooped into the sacred space.

“Mom!” Belladonna sobbed as Rowena’s twisting fingers shot a bolt of magic at Vlad. His chest healed instantly, and Rowena kept Gabriel suspended as she crossed the floor of kneeling vampires.

“Thank you for calling me,” she said, surveying Vlad’s blood-soaked body. Her magic had restored his wounded flesh, but his eviscerated suit spoke of his torture. “And thank you for protecting my daughter.”

“I will always protect her,” Vlad said. “I love her.”

And then Rowena did something that was spoken about with reverence for generations. She hugged Vlad. A deep, thankful hug, and then together, they pulled Belladonna between them, showing both the vampires and the witches just how powerful Belladonna’s desire for peace was.

The hours that followed were long and fraught with tension since Vlad’s love for his son didn’t undo the fact that the vampire had tried to kill both him and his wife. The witches called for Gabriel’s head, but Belladonna insisted no more blood be shed. She knew Vlad would be forever changed if his son were executed, so she begged her mother to find another way. By the time the darkness waned, Rowena and Vlad had settled on a course of action. A faction of peaceful vampires lived in Europe as monks. They were sworn to abstinence and charity, consuming only enough blood to survive. It was a pious yet poor existence. The sect refused to live like the powerful creatures they were in favor of helping their communities, and they would oversee Gabriel’s care for the foreseeable future. The army of vampires he’d commanded was also sentenced to decades among the monks, and Belladonna hoped for her husband’s sake that the coming years of self-sacrifice would teach Gabriel to forgive his father and forget his need for war. She wanted peace, especially for the man who’d unexpectedly captured her heart.

As dawn approached, Bartholomew, Lucian, and an army of loyal vampires arrived to escort them back to the mansion. During Vlad’s years in Europe, his son had converted many of the younger vampires to his violent ways. They knew they stood no chance against the ancients, so they’d devised a distraction to remove Bartholomew from Vlad’s side. The man was distraught when he learned what had occurred in his absence, but Belladonna wouldn’t accept his guilt. Horrors and deaths had transpired, but so had greatness. Her bond with Vlad combined with her constant training within a warded house made her the first witch to shatter a ward’s barrier. She’d earned a new height of power and gained a devoted husband. She’d watch her mother hug the man she loved. Some good had come from the tragedy, and she hoped Gabriel and his father could eventually mend their obliterated relationship. Although she was thankful that he would be on another continent for the foreseeable future. After the fear he’d inflicted, she needed time before she could stand in the same room as him without panicking .

Belladonna and Vlad made it home just as the sun peaked over the horizon. Her explosion of power and the effort required to heal her husband’s extensive wounds left her so exhausted that she could barely climb the stairs to their bedroom, and judging by the way Vlad tripped twice, he’d lost too much blood. It was all they could do to survive their shower without collapsing, and she wasn’t even sure they scrubbed all the blood from Vlad’s skin. All she knew was if they didn’t get into bed soon, they would end up sleeping on the bathroom tiles.

Vlad didn’t bother with a towel or a change of clothes as he collapsed on the mattress naked and wet, but Belladonna slipped one of his soft shirts over her head before she climbed in behind him and ceased to exist.

Belladonna woke in the same position she’d passed out in, her spine stiff from the awkward angle. Vlad still lay on his stomach, sprawled sideways across the mattress, and she lay curled up against him, his ribs as her pillow. She shifted to release the pressure on her neck, and with lazy fingers, she traced the tattoos on her husband’s back. He was the most beautiful form of art she’d ever seen, the detailed ink complimenting his powerful muscles and smooth skin. The angel of death was a masterpiece.

“What time is it?” Vlad groaned, his deep voice rumbling through his ribs to vibrate her cheek.

“Almost midnight,” she answered, squinting at the clock. “We’ve been asleep for sixteen hours.”

“Shit.” Vlad rolled onto his back, shifting until his chest slipped under her chin. “It’s a good thing Bartholomew wasn’t injured. I’m going to need him to handle business for a bit. ”

“Have you ever been…” Belladonna hesitated. “Staked before?”

“Yes.” Vlad turned on the bedside lamp. “Not that many times, but I have. I’ve endured a lot of terrible things, but seeing you chained was the worst. I would rather burn alive than see that again.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“But I don’t want to live without you.”

“And I can’t live without you.” Vlad grabbed her jaw and gently forced her to meet his gaze. “You are mine, little witch. My wife, my mate, my life. I’m not a good man. I love you, but do not mistake my gentleness with you as a sign of my charity. I’ll burn the world to ash before I let anyone take you from me. I would be careful who you spend your time with because if someone so much as looks at you with ill intent, I’ll rip their limbs from their body and watch them bleed out. You might be the death of hundreds of men over our centuries together because you’re mine, and I protect what’s mine.”

“I love you too.” Belladonna leaned forward until her lips brushed his. “So…” She kissed him slowly. “Fucking…” She kissed him again. “Much.”

“Say it again,” he whispered, sliding his fingers into her hair.

“I love you.”

“And I love you, wife.” Vlad deepened the kiss before lowering his head to the pillow. The light hit his face, and Belladonna finally saw his eyes. She froze at the sight before scrambling onto her hands and knees to trace his cheeks with concern.

“I thought I healed you,” she said, twisting her fingers to cast another spell. The wards no longer locked her power within her, and she felt her magic flowing through the air .

“You did.” Vlad grabbed her wrists, halting her magic. “I lost too much blood. I need to drink, that’s all. Once we eat, I’ll heal completely.”

“Oh, okay….” Belladonna trailed off, gathering her resolve before she continued. “Or you could drink from me.”