Page 22

DAHLIA

“ W hat are you doing?” Alaric asks softly from behind me. I don’t gasp or start in surprise—I’d felt him approaching, like a warmth spreading through my veins from the center of my chest.

I’m on my knees beneath a towering scarlet oak on the far end of the field. It’s night now, but there are no clouds and the moon is full and bright, giving me plenty of light to see by. Plus, with all of Alaric’s blood, my senses are keener than usual—I can see pretty damn well in the dark for the time being. I place another smooth stone on the stack. Two others stand beside it, already completed.

“I’m saying goodbye in my own way,” I tell him.

“May I?”

I glace up at him. Though I wasn’t surprised by his arrival , I’m surprised by his presence —why is he here? He’s been avoiding me at all costs for months. Now he’s out here with me…and he seems almost nervous? Regardless of the reason, I remind myself that he is my prince and I’m his Consort and he can do whatever he damn well pleases, so I nod. He sinks to his knees beside me and eyes the rocks with interest.

“My father’s people, they build cairns like these in memory of the dead, a way to honor them. The funeral rites were beautiful, but I just…I wanted to do this for me, to honor them in the way of my family.”

“I think that’s…lovely.” I glance up at him in confusion, but he’s staring down at the rock in his hand as he twirls it between his long, deft fingers. “Are you alright?” His voice is low and rough, and I know he isn’t talking about my state of mourning.

“I am.” I would swear a small shudder runs through his body at that, like he’s been holding on to all the tension in the world, waiting for my confirmation that I’m ok. I don’t understand what’s going on, to be honest. Not at all. But I don’t have the energy to fight against it, not today, and I’d be lying if I said that I wanted to. Because of the blood he gave me, being near him is like a compulsion, like we’re magnets and I can only be whole if I’m with him. Right now, I’ll take this comfort, forced and false as it may be, and use it to cushion myself against the sorrow and pain.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry that you went through that. I’m sorry that you were hurt and that you were afraid.” He says the next through gritted teeth, fangs sharp and extending before my eyes. “I’m sorry that those bastards somehow attacked what’s mine in what equates to my own home.”

“What’s yours…?” I say quietly, the words sending a strange shiver up my spine. He blinks as if he hadn’t realized he’d even spoken the words out loud.

“My Consort. My men,” he clarifies, and I nod. Of course.

“Thank you,” I say after a few moments of silence. “For saving me.” He’s silent for so long that I finally glance up at him and he looks taken aback, truly at a loss for words, but something burns behind his eyes, something I can’t decipher…but something that makes me want to lean into him, to spend the rest of my life trying to figure out.

“You’re welcome,” he says finally, though it doesn’t seem to be what he really wanted to say. I sigh and turn back to the cairn, placing my last stone on top.

“Kane, Cyrus, and Descartes. May the suns find your face. May the winds find your sails. May the gods welcome you home. May we always remember. And may we one day meet again.” My throat feels thick. The last time I said these words was at my mother’s funeral.

Alaric reaches forward and adds his stone.

“Vale, brothers,” he says quietly. I turn and our gazes meet, and I wish so badly I could read what’s churning beneath his golden depths. Again, that longing to lean forward, that desire to climb into his arms and never leave, rushes over me, covering me like a blanket as soft as a whisper.

“My Lady,” Takara calls hesitantly from a few feet away. I jerk my gaze from Alaric to my Keeper. “Your dinner is served in your quarters. I…I think you need to eat a proper meal,” she adds a little sternly, giving me a pointed look. As if in answer, my stomach chooses that moment to make an obscenely loud grumbling sound, demanding its due. I pull in my lips to keep from laughing and when I look back at Alaric, he looks to be doing the same.

“You better go,” Alaric says. “That sounded…dire.” His tone is dry but I do believe he’s trying at humor. I scramble to my feet, inclining my head to him before I turn and join Takara.

“And what was going on out there?” she asks quietly in my ear as we walk back across the field and into my wing of the cabin.

“He was…making sure I was alright, I think.”

“Hmm,” is all she says in return as she escorts me to my dining room where a feast large enough for ten people waits.

“Takara!” I gasp.

“You need to eat!” she says defensively. “And I didn’t know what you might be wanting after…after everything, so I had Reginald make some of everything. There’s pheasant and elk and chicken, and the foul-smelling stew that you seem to love for unknown reasons. Cheese and fruit and freshly baked bread. Potatoes with extra cheese…Oh and the pudding! Four different kinds of pudding. I know how much you love pudding…” She trails off as I wrap my arms around her middle. After a moment, she embraces me back and lets out a long, shuddering breath.

“Thank you,” I say, my eyes stinging yet again with tears. Will they ever cease?

Takara sniffles and when I pull away and look at her, there are crimson-tinged tears in her eyes. She quickly wipes them away and shifts her shoulders back.

“Well get on with it then. The sounds your stomach is making are truly horrendous. Humans are so awful sometimes. I can’t believe I used to be one.” I roll my eyes and she smiles, settling into the chair across from me as I admittedly gorge myself on a little bit of everything.

Somehow, after everything of the past few days, I go to sleep tonight with a smile on my lips.

I pace in my room, working up the nerve to go see Alaric. I’m going to ask for—no, demand —what I want. I’m his Consort. My wish is supposed to be his command, but…I know for certain no Consort has ever wished for this. I bite my lip and fiddle with the ring my father gave me the day of the Choosing. It has become a habit over these months, to rub the stone for comfort or when I’m feeling nervous. It makes me feel closer to him, as if he’s in my ear, encouraging me or comforting me.

“Just fucking do it, you coward,” I tell myself in the mirror. On a whim I can’t even quite explain, I pull the pins from my hair, letting my curls fall loosely down my back. I march determinedly to Alaric’s wing, but just outside the door to the war room, I pause. He’s speaking with someone inside. I don’t mean to eavesdrop but with my senses a bit sharper because of Alaric’s blood, it’s much easier to do. I can’t help but lean in a bit closer when I hear my name.

“Sir, I would like to put in my name for consideration as a replacement on Lady Dahlia’s guard.”

“Highspear, I am not making any decisions on that front at this time,” Alaric says, not unkindly, but there’s a slight tremor of annoyance in his voice.

“I would take the position very seriously, sir, I promise you. I know you did not…trust me,” he sounds as if he’s saying the words with a barely hidden sneer, “to be a sergeant yet, but you can trust me in this.”

“Highspear—”

“Please sir. I want…I want to matter! I deserve to matter!” the soldier explodes, startling me. “I am ready .”

“You aren’t,” Alaric snaps, cool authority in his voice. “I am sorry, Highspear, but you are not ready. You are not ready to be a sergeant, you are not ready to lead others, and you are sure as fuck not ready to protect what’s mine .” I blink at the fire in Alaric’s words, the vehemence and…possessiveness.

There’s a long, uncomfortable silence before the soldier says in a deadly quiet voice, “you have no idea what I’m capable of.” The words sound like a threat and I hastily retreat down the hallway, trying desperately not to get caught listening in on conversations I’m obviously not meant to hear.

I make it back to the entrance room of the cabin when I hear the doors to the war room open. I think about trying to hide, but decide against it just as the vampire’s quick footsteps draw near. He freezes when he sees me. He looks young, maybe only nineteen or so when he was turned. His face is round and boyish, his eyes a bit too big for his face and a deep, muddy brown. His hair is the same color, short, but with a bit that stands up awkwardly in the back.

He inclines his head quickly. “Lady Dahlia.”

“Hello.” I smile at him, knowing he’s upset by the meeting with Alaric. The one that clearly went badly. His hands are opening and closing into fists at his sides, the muscle in his jaw clenching and unclenching. My da always says that sometimes what someone needs on their worst day is just a kind smile—and a pint. I can at least offer this man—Highspear—the first. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced, but I’ve seen you about the camp.”

He relaxes a bit at that, blinking in surprise, but then his lips tilt up ever so slightly at the corners. He’s clearly happy to have been recognized among all of the soldiers by the High General’s Consort.

“I’m Luca. Luca Highspear, my Lady.”

“It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Luca.”

“The honor is mine.” He studies me for a long moment, suddenly looking a little uneasy and pale. “I…I heard you were injured in the attack on the road. Are you quite alright?”

“I am,” I assure him. “I’ve got a very tough-looking scar to show off now. I fancy it will get me lots of free drinks around the tavern back home.” I smile widely and he smiles hesitantly back, still looking…off. Probably still upset about how Alaric had dismissed him so harshly.

“I’m very sorry that happened. That…that you were hurt. The Revenants never should have gotten within the borders. We should have stopped them, my Lady.” He looks upset and I wonder if perhaps he was one of the men on duty that day at one of the many guard stations along the road and surrounding the camp. Does he feel guilty for not seeing the Revenants, like the attack was his fault somehow?

“It’s no one’s fault,” I tell him gently, stepping forward and laying a hand on his shoulder. He meets my gaze, his big eyes making him seem so, so young. He nods his head and says a quick goodbye before retreating from the cabin.

I make my way back down the hallway to Alaric’s door and this time, I knock.

“Come in,” he calls, sounding tired and annoyed. I take a quick, settling breath and push the door open. Alaric sits behind his massive desk, a stack of letters beside him. I let out a low, soft breath as I take him in. He looks more handsome than I’d ever seen him. He’s in a simple black shirt, the top few buttons undone to reveal the smooth, tempting skin of his chest and throat. His hair is its usual mess, but now I can see that some of the strands are so black they look almost blue. He meets my gaze, the gold burning and beautiful and…I’ve suddenly forgotten how to speak. I was still so out of sorts at the funerals that I hadn’t truly seen him, but now, he is all I can see.

Are my keener senses making him more attractive, letting my weak, human eyes see him more clearly? Dear gods, is this how he looks to other vampires? No wonder there are rumors of him fighting females off with a stick, of him entertaining too many companions to name…there’s even one that claims he made a female vampire come so hard her knees gave out just by winking at her across the room. That…that couldn’t be true…could it? I swallow hard as a shiver skates over my skin and my stomach dips at the mere thought.

“Dahlia,” he says in greeting, voice low. His eyes drop to my lips and then lower. A sharp stab of desire flares through my core, but…I’m not completely sure it’s my desire. My eyes fly wide. Could I be feeling Alaric’s emotions? No, surely not…but he’d said that I might be able to after the binding ceremony, and that had only been a tiny sip of blood. This time he’d given me mouthfuls…

But there’s no way he’s feeling…desirous of me. Perhaps it’s just the lust for blood that I’m feeling, not anything else. His gaze meets mine again and I force all other thoughts away. I have things I need to say and I won’t be deterred. My little firebrand , my father’s voice echoes in my mind as I run a finger over the ring on my right hand. I push my shoulders back.

“I want to learn to fight,” I say without preamble. His brow furrows, clearly surprised by this outburst.

“What?”

“I want to learn to fight,” I repeat. “I’ve always thought that I was strong, that I could take care of myself. But I realized on that road how wrong I was. I…I just stood there,” I say closing my eyes, remembering. “I stood there, completely frozen and useless. I couldn’t protect myself—or anyone else—even the tiniest bit.” Fury pulses hot and jagged in my chest. Not all my own? I open my eyes to find Alaric’s blazing, though he keeps his expression passive. “I didn’t like feeling helpless. I know I have a guard and I appreciate the protection they give me, but I just…” I trail off, exhaling roughly, not knowing how to explain to someone who is so damned strong and brave and resilient, what it feels like not to be.

“Alright,” he says and I blink in surprise.

“Alright?”

He nods. “It is a general rule that everyone who enters this camp knows the basics of self-defense and swordplay. Every human member of the staff here could raise arms against a threat, should they need to. I did not realize you might want to be afforded the same opportunity.”

“Yes. Yes, I do. Thank you.” I add hastily, “I know you’re far too busy to do it yourself, but Wesley and Nova have offered to teach me. I promise it won’t interfere with their training schedules or any of their duties. We’ll only do lessons when they don’t have other obligations.”

He stares at me for a long moment and then inclines his head.

“I think that’s…an excellent plan,” he says, though his voice is a little stiff. Perhaps he doesn’t actually want me to learn, but knows it’s a good idea anyway. Either way, he’s said yes, and that’s all that matters.

“Oh. Uh, thank you.” I hesitate, not sure that I need to remain, but not quite wanting to leave. “Do you need blood?” He inhales quietly but shakes his head.

“Not yet. You need more time to recover from your loss before I take again.” After a moment he adds, “I’ll send for you when I am in need, though.” So, he doesn’t plan to go back to ignoring me then? What on earth had happened up in the wilds that had caused this change? Whatever it is, I’m happy for it, even knowing how foolish that is. I smile and his own features soften slightly in return.

“Alright then,” I say, inclining my head and turning to leave.

“Dahlia,” he calls and I turn at the door. I would swear there’s amusement dancing in his golden eyes now, a quirk of his lips ever so slightly as he says, “enjoy your training.”