Page 16

DAHLIA

A laric is definitely avoiding me. I thought maybe I’d been imagining it at first, that he’d just been busy with training and the never-ending duties of the High General, but when a squire came to take my blood a few days after the night when I’d almost kissed him, I knew without a doubt. He wasn’t gone from the camp or busy, he simply didn’t want to see me. And so it’s been for weeks now. I never see him within the cabin, we never pass in the hallway or run into each other outside. He sends a squire for my blood, and even when I catch a glimpse of him across the camp, I swear he makes a point to disappear into the crowd so quickly it’s as if I’ve imagined him there at all.

I know it should mean nothing to me. I know I shouldn’t care whether I see him or whether he’s avoiding me because I did something stupid. I know that I’m reading too much into a drunken night. I know that I can’t have these fucking feelings for him—it’s ridiculous. And the fact that I know how ridiculous it is and yet can’t stop the feelings, is making me want to pull my hair out! What the fuck is it about this vampire? It has to be the binding. It was supposed to have disappeared but maybe something went wrong. Maybe I was given too much, or maybe his blood is special or different than the other princes. Maybe I’m just cursed.

“Fuck,” I grate, kicking out at a rock on the hill behind the cabin and sending it sailing through the air before hitting a tree.

“That was quite impressive, my Lady,” Kane calls from behind us, and I shoot him a quelling look—which only makes him smile in return.

I walk to one of the boulders strewn around the hill and climb up, lying back and staring up at the overcast sky. The wind blows around me, bringing the scent of dahlias of all things. They grow here in the Northlands. Mum had been born here and had always loved the flowers. They wouldn’t grow in the south, so she’d settled for naming a daughter after her beloved blooms instead. I miss her suddenly, a sharp stab of pain through my heart. We didn’t always get along—she didn’t love my stubborn or reckless streaks by any stretch of the imagination—but she was a good mother and always made sure that at the end of the day, I knew how much she loved me. I wonder what she would think of all of this. Me, a Consort to a prince and living in a war camp in her beloved Northlands. That part she might like, I think. She’d always dreamed of taking us here, of moving us all to the mountains and trying to instill in us her love of snow and ice. The thought makes me actually long for true winter to come, so I can see what she loved, to maybe feel a little closer to her.

“A letter came for you, my Lady,” Takara says from just beside me.

I scream and bolt upright, nearly toppling off of the boulder. Kane is there so quickly it's as if he’d appeared out of thin air, catching me easily and settling me back atop the rock.

“Thank you,” I say, breathless, my heart racing.

“Of course, my Lady.” He steps away and I turn to glare at Takara.

“You scared the piss out of me!”

Takara arches a black brow. “I made sure to make noise as I approached to avoid startling you. I cannot help if you weren’t paying attention.”

I roll my eyes but hold out my hand out for the letter and gesture for Takara to join me. The vampire leaps on top of the rock as easily as if she were stepping up on a stair, graceful and elegant. She settles in beside me and leans back on her hands as I open the envelope.

Lia,

You must come home at once. Leland Dunlevee will not leave me alone. I made the mistake of kissing him—don’t judge me. I’m blaming the ale you sent!—and now he follows me around everywhere I go like a little lovesick puppy. Da thinks it's hilarious and does nothing at all to help my cause or deter the boy. In fact, he invites him over to dinner! The entire house is overflowing with flowers because Leland brings by at least one bouquet a day, sometimes two! We’re running out of space and the flower merchants are running out of stock! I can barely breathe past the cloying scent of roses and lilies and orchids. He doesn’t even get the flowers that I like for fuck’s sake. Trust me when I say that kiss was not worth all of this follow-up torture.

I laugh lightly, and Takara arches a brow.

“My sister has an unwanted suitor, apparently. One who is very enthusiastic.” The vampire smiles, revealing her fangs, and laughs.

“My husband was much the same,” she says. “I played hard to get, as they say, but he didn’t give up. He came by every single day, even when I refused to open the door for him.” Her smile turns a little bittersweet, and I can’t stop myself from reaching over and placing a hand on Takara’s arm, squeezing gently. The vampire shakes herself. “He was a damned fool, really,” she adds, the sadness lifting. I huff out a laugh and continue reading.

I suspect I’ll be suffocated by them all before you write again. Mourn me, dear sister. And perhaps send one of your vampire guard to scare Leland off? I would consider it a great favor…

Moving on to less flower-related topics, I wish I could offer help when it comes to your feelings for the High General.

I cut my eyes quickly to Takara, hoping that the vampire isn’t reading the letter, but she’s staring off into the distance, maybe lost in memories of her husband, the family that was taken from her.

But…would it really be so bad if something did happen? I know it isn’t how these things usually go, but, well, nothing about your situation is usual, is it? Just be careful, no matter what you decide.

Give Wesley my love. Ask him if he remembers the time I hid from Sally Crenshaw in his father’s shop for a whole afternoon while he snuck me candies beneath the counter. He was truly an angel that day. I think I even loved him for at least a week afterward.

I love you.

-Enid

P.S.

If something does happen, you must tell me every single detail! Every single one, I mean it.

I shake my head, half amused, half disappointed. It didn’t matter anymore. I’d been wrong about what I’d thought might be between me and Alaric, and now he’s avoiding me completely. There will be nothing to tell. I ball my hands into fists, annoyed for reasons I can’t even explain. Annoyed and hurt and embarrassed and pissed off and so on edge I could scream.

I suddenly need to do something to shove Alaric firmly from my thoughts and get over this strange infatuation. Anything.

And I know exactly what it is.

I storm through the camp, dodging vampires and humans as I go, barely offering smiles or nods of acknowledgment as I pass. I know Kane is somewhere behind me, probably thinking I’m insane, but I don’t care—and at least he’s giving me some space. The sun is setting and the sky is streaked with gold and pink, but I barely notice the beauty. I’m on a mission. I’m going to force a spark to life if it kills me. My old friend, Shreya used to say that the best way to get over one man, was to get beneath another. So, that’s what I’m going to fucking do. I’ll be beneath Wesley all night if I have to. I’ll let his glorious body chase all thoughts of Alaric from my mind.

I make my way past the meeting hall and bath houses, past First and Second Quadrant and through the training rings—but slow as I near the smallest ring, the one reserved for one-on-one combat drills. My lips part on a soft inhale as I watch, unable to pull my gaze away, all thoughts of Wesley and my plan vanishing.

Alaric is there, fighting with Elias, their blades crashing together again and again as they whirl and spin and seem to blur around the ring. They’re both shirtless and while Elias has one of the most beautiful bodies I’ve ever seen, I can barely spare it a glance. Seeing Alaric’s bare torso is enough to steal the breath from my lungs, to make my muscles tremble and belly tighten. His shoulders and back are broad, tapering to a trim waist, the muscles at the base of his spine forming a “v” that is intensely sexy. He’s all corded muscle and taut skin, ridges and planes that I long to explore. His skin is covered in scars, some large and jagged, others fine white lines that are barely noticeable, but they all make him even more attractive to me, all show that he’s fought to be where he is, that he’s fought for all of us, to keep us safe.

The way he moves was like lightning and smoke, streaking effortlessly around the ring in a fluid, graceful way that doesn’t seem to be possible for someone so big. Elias is good, but Alaric is clearly better, moving as if he and his sword are one being, the blade just an extension of his arm. Every movement is practiced and perfect, as if he’s done them a thousand times.

He turns as Elias lunges at him, giving me a full view of his front and dear gods . His chest looks as if it’s been carved from stone, and even slicked with sweat and smeared with blood and dirt, it makes my mouth water and my blood heat. No, not heat, boil . His stomach is lean, row upon row of chiseled muscles across his abdomen that I want to touch and taste. His leather pants hang low on his hips, deep indentions marking either side and seeming to point directly to…

“ Gods ,” I whisper.

His head snaps up and turns my direction, and when our gazes collide, his eyes blaze, like the gold has been melted down in the forge. Elias takes advantage of Alaric’s distraction—or tries to, anyway. He drives his sword forward, but Alaric deflects it without even taking his eyes off me, twisting his wrist in a way that sends Elias’ blade flying across the ring. I barely hear his muttered fuck over the ringing in my ears.

Seeing him now, after so many weeks, hits me like the lash of a whip. I can barely breathe, barely think. He stands stock still, chest heaving and staring. Staring like he’s just seen a sunrise for the first time…or possibly a ghost. His lips part, but before he can say a word, I take a step back, then another, somehow a third, before I turn and run from the practice rings as fast as my legs will carry me.

I’m not going to let the sight of Alaric’s perfect body distract me from, well, my distraction. Seeing him again has only made me want to push him away even more, to forget him completely. Or at least that’s the lie I’m telling myself. Either way, I don’t dare slow. I run for all that I’m worth to Third Quadrant.

I bang on Wesley’s door, out of breath and heart hammering loudly in my ears, so loudly it sounds like thunder. He opens it a moment later, brow furrowing as he takes me in.

“Dahlia? Are you al?—”

I cut him off, throwing myself at him and slamming my lips to his. Literally. My teeth clash painfully against his, and I wince, hoping I didn’t break anything.

“Ow!” he cries.

“Sorry! Sorry,” I pant, and we both laugh. His lips pull into an easy smile, the one I remember from all those years ago—minus the fangs, of course. “Wesley, I just…I need a distraction,” I tell him honestly. “ Please .”

“I am very distracting…” he murmurs as he draws me back to him, closing the door behind us.

He leans in and kisses me again, softer this time, and it’s…nice. No. No, no, no. I need the spark. I need fire. I need Alaric erased from my mind . I wrap my hands around his neck and tilt my head, deepening the kiss…at the same time Wesley tilts his head the same way. We both laugh again and try to correct, only to move in the same direction again.

“Ok, ok, you go left, I’ll go right,” Wesley says, a grin in his voice. We manage to get it right this time, but when I move my hands up the back of his neck and into his hair, my ring gets caught.

“Oh! Oh, shit, don’t move. Hang on…there.” I manage to free myself and let out a shaky breath. I lean forward again, running my hands over Wesley’s stomach and up his chest. He makes a low, appreciative rumble in his chest, and I kiss him again, more successfully this time around. We begin to move backwards towards his bed in the corner when?—

“Ow!” I yell when he steps on my foot.

“What—” Wesley trips then, stumbling backwards over his boots and tumbling to the floor, bringing me with him. We collapse in a heap, my elbow cracking painfully on the wooden floor. I wince but a moment later we break into an insane fit of laughter.

“What is wrong with us?” I groan, still laughing, and turn to bury my face in his chest. He chuckles. “We used to be good at this. Well, after that first time anyway. That was a little rough, I’ll admit, but we got much better after that. So, what the seven hells is wrong with us now?”

He sighs and wraps an arm around me. There’s nothing but friendship in the embrace, and I know then that that’s all there is between us: friendship. I’m glad for it, but it won’t exactly help me with my little problem.

“I think it’s just not meant to be. The same thing happened to me and Nova. We tried a handful of times but it was just awful and awkward every time. We’re better as friends and we both know it. That’s not to say that friends can’t have great sex, but sometimes it just doesn’t work out that way. Plus, she dabbles with males, but really has much more fun with females.”

I sigh. “I had a feeling that was the case—about us being non-sexual friends, I mean, not about Nova’s sexual preferences—but I thought maybe if we tried it would, I don’t know, force the fire again.”

“Sorry to disappoint. You seemed…desperate for a distraction, like you said. Want to tell me from what?”

I exhale roughly and sit up, wrapping my arms around my legs and resting my chin on my knees.

“It’s nothing. Just…trying to adjust to everything, I guess. It’s all so much and I just needed to not think about it for a while.” It’s partly true.

“Well, there are approximately two thousand other vampires who might serve as a distraction for you, if you want to give it another go. I have a few in mind right now I could call, or we can hold auditions if you’d like.” I smack him in the chest and he laughs lightly, easing up to his feet and reaching down a hand to help me up.

“Do you want a drink? We can get sloshed and go mess with First Quadrant’s armory. Or steal all the laundry from Fourth Quadrant’s wash house.” I grin, a different kind of spark lighting between us. The old mischief, the reckless fun of the young and stupid. I wonder just how much Kane will let us get away with…but knowing that he himself is a notorious prankster, my grin grows wider. Not only will he let it happen, I bet that he’ll actually help us.

“That sounds like an excellent plan.”

Alaric continues to avoid me, obviously completely unaffected by seeing me that day at the practice rings, but I’ve gotten over the initial sting of it. Hardly think of it at all really. I gladly give my blood to the squire—a shy young vampire named Milo who has adorable dimples—not wishing at all that the High General was the one taking it himself. I don’t mind not seeing him, and I don’t feel the pull to him like I did before, and I don’t think about him at all.

Some of those things may be lies, but I’m going to continue to say them until they become truth. Eventually, they have to…don’t they?

Though I haven’t tried to force Alaric from my mind by sleeping with anyone else, I’ve thankfully found distraction in other places. I’ve spent time with Braddock at the forge, made several more trips to the village, and gotten to know some of the other humans here. I’ve started learning old Nakish, Takara’s native language, and though she says my accent is atrocious, she’s very encouraging and patient with my lessons. I’ve also taken to reading late into the night in Alaric’s—or, technically, our —study. It’s got hundreds, maybe even thousands of volumes lining the floor to ceiling shelves, and though many are in languages I don’t even have names for, I’m making my way slowly through the collection as best I can.

“Gods, have you ever seen a blade so beautiful?” Nova gushes as we walk through one of the old practice fields behind Fifth Quadrant that’s no longer used. It’s bordered by a thick expanse of trees on two sides, a steep hill dropping off on the right down to a wide stream, and a small pond at the edge of the far end. The three of us have started lounging around the pond in the mornings after the vampires finish their training exercises and other duties, the area quickly becoming “our” spot.

Nova twirls the sword as we walk, slashing it through the air and looking so graceful and deadly that I don’t know whether to be impressed or afraid. Probably both.

“Yes,” Wesley says, “mine.” He grins and taps the hilt of his own Clayburn sword resting at his hip. Da had done beautiful work, taking my sketches and adding his own remarkable touches, to make twin blades for the vampires. Each has the Wolf Coven’s sigil on the pommel, but Nova’s has a pattern of vines along the cross guard, while Wesley’s has ravens in flight. They’re both truly pieces of art and my heart swells with pride at my father’s skill.

Nova scoffs. “Widow Maker can’t hold a candle to Reaper’s Lady.”

I laugh and roll my eyes. “With the exception of the vines versus the ravens, they’re identical. You are aware of what identical means? — ”

“Stop,” Wesley hisses, cutting me off, his body suddenly tense and alert, all joking gone. Cyrus and Viktor are in front of me in an instant, swords drawn and fangs bared, and Wesley and Nova move to put me safely behind them as well. All of them move in a strange, coordinated dance that’s both impressive and terrifying. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ve never seen them react this way, have never seen them look so…scary, like a true threat is near. Revenants? My heart thunders in my chest and my eyes dart around the field, trying to find the danger.

“There,” Cryus says in his low, rough timber, jerking his head towards the tree line in the distance. I squint and a moment later, a small group of hellcats bolt from the forest, sprinting across the field and disappearing quickly into the thick woods on the other side.

“Gods,” I breathe in awe. I’ve read about hellcats, but I’ve never actually seen one before. They don’t typically venture south of Elshrire, preferring the cooler temperatures and the mountain terrain of the Northlands, so I certainly never encountered them back home. They’re black and sleek, fur shining like oil, and absolutely huge, nearly as large as horses. Dagger-like claws tip their massive paws, and tails with spiked-balls on the end swish behind them as they run. They’re terrifying but beyond beautiful…the smaller ones are even kind of adorable. And, I’ll admit, I have the most ridiculous urge to pet one. Surely something so cute can’t be that dangerous…right?

“Are the herds usually that small?” I ask after everyone finally relaxes, determining that the danger has passed.

“That was no herd, my Lady, not by a long shot,” Viktor responds, sheathing his sword at his belt. I decide my next order of business is to get swords made for all of my guard. I laugh inwardly imagining da’s indulgent smile when he receives my next request. I can just see him shaking his head. Supplying the whole of the army, now am I?

“That was just a small family. A herd can run forty, even fifty deep, and can kill even an immortal if one was to find themselves caught in the middle of a stampede.”

“Not to worry, my Lady, they don’t usually cross this close to the camp,” Cyrus assures me, his islander accent thick and melodic. I nod and the guard shifts back, allowing me, Nova, and Wesley to continue towards the pond, though they stay a bit closer than before. Though he’d sheathed Widow Maker back at his belt, Wesley’s hand rests on the hilt, obviously on alert as well. It’s easy for me to forget sometimes that he’s much more than just my easy-going, mischievous friend. He’s a highly skilled, highly trained, killing machine.

“You know,” Nova says after a few moments, “I’m so glad you don’t make me call you my Lady .”

“Oh fuck off,” I say. “I’ve asked them not to either, but they won’t listen.”

“What was that, my Lady ?” Viktor calls from behind us and I can’t help but laugh.

We finally make our way to the edge of the pond and Wesley flops down into the grass while Nova hops up on a fallen tree. She walks along it like an acrobat, twirling Reaper’s Lady as she moves. I laugh, thinking that Nova might just be in love with the damned sword, and kick off my boots. I make my way tentatively into the edge of the water. It’s chilly, but not so cold that I can’t enjoy soaking my feet.

“So, you’re going on a mission with Alaric?” I ask Nova.

“It’s no big deal,” she says, shrugging a shoulder and trying to act nonchalant.

“Oh come off it,” Wesley says, tossing a stick at her. She dodges it easily, flipping her body backwards across the log like it’s nothing and smirking at Wesley after she lands. “First Lieutenant Kovach hand-picked her.” Wesley smiles, and I love that he isn’t jealous or disgruntled that Nova had been selected and he hadn’t. He’s merely happy for his friend. Wesley really is just a good person, a great man. Gods, why can’t I have feelings for him? It would be so easy, so nice. I sigh inwardly, but then frown.

“Kovach?”

“Elias,” Wesley clarifies. Oh, right . I’d forgotten that most of the soldiers are referred to by the surnames here, at least the higher-ranking ones.

“It’s not dangerous, is it?” I ask, chewing my lip. They’re set to leave the next morning but already an icy ball of worry is settling in my stomach. For Nova, of course. No other reason.

“It’s only a scouting mission, so it should be fine…but I wouldn’t be mad if Reaper’s Lady got her first taste of Revenant blood.” The vampire's fangs glint in the morning sun as she smiles a dark, hungry smile, and I’m reminded of how deadly she can be.

“I will never understand you vampires, I swear,” I say with a laugh, and both Nova and Wesley grin. We spend the next few hours lounging by the pond, the two vampires gloating over their swords some more, going through some exercises while I watch on in fascination. How can something so lethal also be so graceful and beautiful? Wesley and I try to teach Nova one of the games we used to play as children, but neither of us can quite remember the rules and we all end up in laughing heaps on the ground before we get very far into the game.

It's a truly lovely day.

And I barely think of Alaric at all.

Enid,

You’ll be glad to know that I have completely recovered from my strange…feelings for the High General. It was just from the binding, his blood more potent than I could have realized, that’s all. I haven’t seen him in almost two months now, and I’ve barely even noticed.

How are things faring with Leland? Has he purchased every flower on the continent by now? Have you already suffocated beneath them all and this letter will remain unread forever!? I kid, I kid, I’m sorry. But I do want to hear more about whether his efforts are gaining any ground with you.

Nova is going on a mission with Alaric tomorrow and though I know it’s a great thing for her to be selected and that she’s fully capable of taking care of herself (it’s literally her job), I can’t pretend I’m not worried.

In truth, I’m worried about more than just Nova, but I refuse to acknowledge the other worry slowly chilling my blood and making my chest feel tight. That worry shouldn’t fucking be there anymore. The binding should be long faded, so why am I still feeling so uneasy about him going? Why am I still feeling anything for him at all? I grit my teeth and nearly tear straight through the parchment when I begin writing again. I take a deep breath and then start again, more gently this time.

I have more requests for da, so pass these along if you please, with a big hug. I miss him so much that sometimes it feels like my heart is splintering. I’ve been working in the smithy here with Braddock though, which helps ease the ache a bit, but still—no one and nothing can compare with being with da at his forge. I miss you too, Enid, just as much, especially when I can’t sleep at night. Even after all these months, my room is still far too quiet without you here. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get used to it.

With love,

~Dahlia