Page 47 of Vow of the Undead (The Bloodrune Saga #1)

“Yes!” He snapped. Dropping his voice, he stared at me from beneath his brows. “Because I’m a soulless creature, Silver, not a human man. My desire should be secondary to protecting you, and I gave in to it.”

I recoiled. “So what’s this connection between us? Does it mean I’m soulless too?” I would believe it. I had believed something similar for most of my life.

“It means we understand each other.” He held my gaze as if a thin thread connected us, pulled taut with increasing tension.

“It means I’m here for you. I’m your support.

That I—” His eyes sliced to The Hall of the Gods behind me.

A flutter of wings beat as two black birds burst from the trees and took flight above us.

He cleared his throat and faced me. “I care about what happens to you.”

“Because I’m helping you destroy the monsters you made.”

“Because I’ve sought solitude since I turned an entire village, and then I met you.” He grabbed the stake and lifted it with my arm. “Let’s do this again. Tip it up.”

I did as he said. Without prompting, I dug the sharp end into him. It was tougher this time, until I dropped the thicker side lower and shoved it into the soft spot between bones. He gasped and I yanked it back.

“It’s done,” I said. “Now, tell me what meeting me means. I can imagine you’ve met hundreds of people in your existence.”

“And I haven’t admired any of them the way I do you.”

I tipped the stake up again, as if it was a threat.

“I’m not someone to admire.” The truth slipped out.

I pursed my lips and scolded myself with a dozen silent curses.

He didn’t need to hear about my past as much as I shouldn’t dare unlock it.

Except with Kayn, I wanted to. He understood the shame that ate away at my heart.

“We’ll have to decide to disagree on that. ”

I frowned. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“And you know exactly what I did, yet you still trust me to be here for you and teach you.”

I lowered the stake and shook my head. “That’s because of my mother’s visions. I trust her powers as a seer. She saw you training me, so I’m taking your training.” Again, the silly need for him to admit he cared for me cropped up. It was as childish as it was foolish.

This man was a monster that I was destined to destroy. I looked away from him, observing instead the hills around us.

Icy wind swept through the abandoned valley, tugging tendrils of hair loose from my braids. Stasia was right, she didn’t have the talent that Embla had for styling braids. Shivers made my grip on the stake unsteady.

Kayn stepped to the side to block the wind from me. “That’s exactly what I mean. Your love for your mother, your trust in her, it's admirable. I forgot what it looked like to care for anyone except myself.”

I knew that.

Damn I really knew what that was like.

As much as I cared for my mother, Ragna, Alva, and now Stasia, I’d put myself first too many times.

Kayn and I were more similar than I ever would have expected.

Maybe it was time I agreed with him. We truly did understand each other, so maybe when he said he admired me, that was true too.

A truth I couldn’t simply deny because I believed it wasn’t the right thing for him to do. He was free to believe what he wanted.

“I never wanted to get to know the other vampires, and I definitely didn’t want to watch humans become vessels, so I preferred solitude. But you feel familiar.”

I scoffed. “Because we’re both living in regret.”

“And now working through the mistakes that led us here.”

When King Drakkar had said we were the same, I denied it. I refused to believe it. I didn’t delight in death like a cruel king. But with Kayn…it felt right to say.

“We’re the same.”

His mouth lifted into an unusual smile. Unlike King Drakkar, he didn’t walk around with a wicked grin cutting across his face.

He was unlike King Drakkar in so many ways.

For one, he admitted his mistakes, his weakness.

He also wanted to give me this power of becoming a huntress, of training, rather than trying to claim me like a prize to sit beside him on a throne.

And of course, Kayn never threatened to kill me.

Anger simmered with determination and I held tighter to the stake. If the king wanted to try to cut me down, he’d have to fight me first.

I lifted the stake. “Again.”

Kayn nodded, holding his smile steady, the softness of it inviting me to relish in this desire I felt for him.

As hours slipped away and my arms ached, I tallied hundreds of different strategies.

None of it unearthed whatever power Odin may have granted me but repeated practice lifted my spirits and my confidence.

Despite the moments of pain, Kayn praised me for my effort, complimenting me every time I struck with accuracy.

I began to crave the praise, pushing myself to keep going, keep training, until my breath was ragged and my blue fingers could no longer grasp the stake.

On the edge of collapse, Kayn drew the weapon from my hands and tossed it aside. He wrapped his arms around me, letting me collapse against his chest. Catching my breath while sinking into him, I soaked in the moment of rest, of trust, of every word he’d said.

He was here for me.

He was my support.

With Kayn, I could do this.

Once my breathing slowed, he gently released me.

He threaded his fingers through my hair.

Cupping the back of my neck, he pulled me closer.

His eyes dipped from my gaze to my lips.

The taut thread between us snapped and our mouths crashed together, urgent only for a moment until it melted into gentle embers.

It was never desperate, or hungry, or possessive like the king’s kisses. With Kayn, this intimacy lingered, slow and careful.

We broke away only when a shrill voice sent goosebumps over my arms. Stasia shrieked from somewhere behind us. Kayn snapped his attention to her as I spun around.

In the dim light, a flash of beige dashed toward us.

Stasia’s usually light voice was twisted with distress.

Exhausted as I was, we both ran to meet her halfway.

She’d returned from the village to purchase cooking supplies for food and medicine for my mother with the little money Kayn carried around.

Breathless and with shaking hands, Stasia swung her arms wildly as she tried to speak. “I saw them,” she said, between breaths. “I saw them in the village. They’re passing through Mara. On their way to Einnland.”

My gut lurched. The exodus. “Stasia, slow down. Are the Grimward moving the exiles?”

She nodded and slapped her palms to her knees. Though Stasia was wiry like Ragna, she didn’t have the muscle and endurance. Her breaths still came quick and choppy. “Hundreds of witches and the executioners—” A sob cut her off.

I bent to scoop my arms beneath hers and gather her into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

She fell into me and I stumbled. Kayn pressed a steady hand to my back to keep me from falling.

Her voice was a whisper now. “I saw him. I didn’t get to see his face but it was his mask. The Wolf.”

“Finan?” I asked, though I already knew it was only him she cared for. Still, I knew so little, Stasia kept her heart close, speaking only of her passion for cooking and teasing me .

She drew back and wiped at her eyes. For a second, she wasn’t the confident handmaiden who’d helped me escape Mara’s Keep. In the silence and with a tear-streaked face, I saw Alva in her. A child wanting nothing but to be in the arms of the person she longed for.

She swallowed and closed her eyes. “I spoke to him, Silver. I told him to run with me before he dies at sea.” Pausing, she gathered herself.

“He said he didn’t know me and that if I didn’t step out of the way, he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt me.

But it was a lie. I know he recognized me. I know he did.”

The pressure of Kayn’s hand slid higher up my back. He stepped to the side, casting a shadow over Stasia. “This exploration, it’s so they can find more vessels. More sources of food before the population in Vylheim dwindles. There’s too many vampires.”

My mouth went dry, but I peeled my lips open and looked up at Kayn as I spoke. “I have to kill the council before they force everyone to leave. I won’t let them send Ragna and the other witches to die.” I glanced at Stasia. “And Finan.”

How many witches had Finan sent into exile?

How many people did he execute based on claims of violence?

This wasn’t for me to ruminate on, not with Stasia staring at me like that.

I didn’t know him, but I wanted to make her tears stop.

Tears on Stasia’s perfect cherub face looked unnatural.

She was born to be full of joy and food and hope.

“You need more training,” Kayn said. “I won’t let you march to your death, Silver.”

Stasia heaved a shaky breath, drawing our attention. “Ylva and Darius and several other council members were overseeing the exodus, but King Drakkar wasn’t there. The castle might be empty for a few more days.”

“I have to go now?—”

“Once you can both compel me and strike me at the same time.” His tone was insistent, but not demanding like the king’s commands .

I chewed on this, thinking carefully about my response.

From the moment Kayn tried to stop me from walking into Mara’s Keep, he’d intended to save me from the king and his vampire courtiers. I should have gone with him then. I should have listened to him the first time.

“One more day of training.”

He nodded. “One day.”