Page 27

Story: Vows Forged in Blood

DAHLIA

Lia,

YOU WERE ATTACKED AND YOU TOOK WEEKS TO TELL ME!?! I am so mad at you I could spit!! But I am also so glad you’re ok that I’m going to overlook my anger. I never thought you’d be in danger there in Alaric’s camp. How did this happen? How could the Revenants possibly have gotten through the pass so near the camp?

I’m shaking I’m so irritated with you. Da spent hours locked away in the shop after he read your letter, but seems to be ok now that he’s processed everything and knows you’re alright. You are alright, aren’t you? Do you swear?

I’ll admit that it’s a bit exciting that you’re getting to train now. Maybe you can teach me someday as well. The thought would probably scandalize Leland, but that’s alright. No, he hasn’t given up. I think…no, I know, I’m going to accept his official courtship request soon. He’s very sweet and gentle, and gods knows he enjoys showering me with gifts. There are worse matches to be had, so I should be grateful for it.

I frown. She’s most certainly not in love with Leland, that’s clear to see. I get the distinct feeling that she’s settling and if that’s what she wants, I will of course support her, but…Enid has always been the dreamer of the two of us, the one who reads those secret novels and believes in the love story of it all (whereas I mostly believed in the naughty bits where the dark prince took the princess up against a cave wall…). She’s always wanted the knight in shining armor to fight for her, to live in a world where great love conquers all. My heart twists a little at the idea of her settling for less than what she’s always dreamed of.

Moving on from my love life - Yes, it is too soon to joke about your blood being spilled…but I do love the jewelry, so I will forgive you. I love you so much, Dahlia. I don’t know what I would do if something had happened to you. But you’re stronger than even you know. Something as silly as a Revenant couldn’t take our firebrand from this world.

We’re hosting Leland’s family for dinner, so I better go and make sure da looks presentable and doesn’t have soot on his face or blood under his nails. He already scares the poor folks being so big and brawny. The entire Dunlevee family is very…gentle and easily spooked, I’m afraid. The mere mention of the fact that my sister is the High General’s Consort makes them all turn the color of milk. It’s a bit ridiculous…but a tad funny, truth be told. I think da now tries to see just how far he can push them before they faint as a new favorite pastime.

He sends his love and told me to remind you of his gift to you, whatever that means. What gift? You two and your secrets, I swear…

Love,

Enid

I run my finger over the black stone on my finger. Of course, I’d completely forgotten about it when I needed to remember it most. I shake my head in frustration, but have decided I am not going to dwell on the past. I am looking forward from now on. I am doing well with my training and I’ve found that it isn’t only physical training, but mental as well. I think (after far more sessions, of course), that I wouldn’t freeze if the time came. I would be able to move past that fear that kept me in place during the Revenant attack. I suppose I hope it’s never put to the test, but it is still comforting knowledge to have.

While my days have become filled to the brim with training, working at the smithy with Braddock, and spending time with my friends, the nights in the study have gotten… heavy . That’s the best way I can describe them. There’s a thickness in the air around Alaric and me now, like a summer storm cloud that’s just waiting to burst—and gods am I ready for the storm. Ever since the day he came to training, when he stood behind me and guided my body with his own, I can barely control the need to be near him again, to feel him so close. We haven’t touched again, save when I’m giving him blood, but we’re only inches away from each other on the couch now while we read or talk, each of us seemingly unable to keep the distance there once was. He’s showing me sides of himself that I’m not sure he’s ever shown anyone before and if I didn’t know any better, if I didn’t know that it was an impossibility…I might think that I was…his. There’s something about the way he looks at me, the way he seems to move and watch instinctively without even realizing he’s doing it. Even if that can’t be the case, I know that he cares about me now, more than just as a Consort or a friend.

And fuck me, I think I’m falling in love with him too. Not that I know he loves me, but…maybe he does?

But either way, I have no idea what in the seven hells to do about it. He can’t be with me. Or won’t, I suppose. Nova swears that all the princes fuck humans, but Alaric seems adamant that that’s not the case. Not that we’ve actually discussed it since that very first time at the inn, but he always stops himself from touching me, from doing anything that might lead us down a road we can’t come back from, no matter how much I know he wants to do otherwise. I wonder what would happen if I just threw myself at him, if I didn’t give him a choice. He could stop me, of course, but…maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he would finally just give in.

We may just be finding out for sure one way or another soon. I’m going to lose this battle within myself soon enough, I just know it. I can feel it bubbling up within my chest, like a volcano waiting to erupt.

“Is there a reason you haven’t appointed new members of my guard?” I ask, taking a bite of chocolate as we walk. I received a letter from the apothecary in town, letting me know what is needed to be paid on our arrangement, and I realize how much I’ve missed going to the village over the last few months. It’s part of the reason I’m bringing up the guard question: I have no idea if Alaric will let me go back there again, especially with only half a guard.

We took a ride near the river tonight and seeing Alaric atop Xanthus, the two of them moving as if they were one soul in two bodies, left me speechless. When we ride, it’s like every bit of worry and stress leaves Alaric and, if only for a short time, he’s truly free and happy in ways he won’t allow himself to be when we’re back at the camp. I understand why, and don’t fault him for it. He’s the High General, for fuck’s sake. He’s responsible for countless lives, for the safety of the entire continent. He has to be focused and stoic and determined. And honestly, it makes me love our time together that much more. It’s like a secret between the two of us, a private world that no one else is privy to, something special shared only with each other.

Xerxes bumps my shoulder roughly with his big nose now, demanding his share of the chocolate. I laugh and give him a nibble, breaking another bit off and handing it to Alaric for Xanthus without a word. He shoots me a half smirk, one of my favorites, and gives the treat to the horse.

His shirt gapes just over his chest and his hair is windswept after the ride, leaving him looking too handsome for words and making my mouth practically water. I clench my thighs and my teeth and try to keep a rein on those particular emotions.

He contemplates my question for a long minute before answering.

“Mostly because I didn’t think you would want me to.” My brow furrows. “I know that they were not just your guardians, they were your friends, Dahlia. I…” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “I didn’t want you to think I was being callous simply replacing them, as if I didn’t know what they meant to you. You are completely safe within the camp, I have no doubts of this, despite what happened on the road. You haven’t needed the extra protection of three more swords watching over you.”

I stop walking and blink in surprise. He’d actually thought about how this would make me feel? My chest twists and I feel myself slip that much further towards the edge. Soon, I’ll be over it completely, free falling into the unknown of loving Alaric Montclare. The sun is starting to set in the distance and for this moment, the two of us on the grassy rise behind our cabin, alone in a world no one else can touch, loving him seems like the most logical thing in the world, like the one thing I was born to do.

“Thank you,” I say softly, looking up to meet his gaze. He holds mine for a long minute, too many things flashing in that molten gold to keep track. Slowly, he reaches towards my face and I barely stop a gasp. My heart seems to stop beating completely for an endless moment before it slams into my chest double time as he lightly brushes his thumb across my cheek. He’s closer than I realized, so close that I can reach out and touch him. Without thought, I drop Xerxes’ reins and place my hand on Alaric’s stomach instead, steadying myself. He inhales sharply, a low, rumbling sound echoing through his chest. Something hot and powerful slams through me, through the connection between us, but I can’t find the words to explain what it is. Mine , it seems to say. Mine, mine, mine .

“You had…chocolate just there,” he says, voice low and rough, like saying the words takes great effort. His body is almost vibrating with tension, that same tension echoing through the bond and sending shivers up my spine. His throat works as if it’s hard to swallow, and he softly and ever so slowly grazes his fingers along my cheek until he’s cupping my face gently. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I can’t ever let him stop touching me.

I curl my fingers into his shirt, holding on for dear life as he moves his thumb in lazy strokes across my cheekbone, seeming to revel in the contact, eyes sliding closed in what appears to be pure bliss. He holds himself completely still save the movement of his thumb. I don’t even think he’s breathing. All of his vast stores of focus trained on that one, small motion.

“Alaric,” I whisper. It sounds like a prayer, like a plea.

He exhales slowly. “When you say my name like that, it makes everything else in the world fade away,” he says quietly. He opens his eyes and as his gaze falls to my lips, I wonder if he’s finally going to kiss me the way I’ve been dreaming of for weeks. Well, since the Choosing, if I’m being honest with myself. He starts to move his face towards mine, again with that slow, practiced deliberation that I know comes from his centuries of training, of learning to master every inch of his body, and now I stop breathing.

“Keeva,” he whispers as he moves closer…closer…

“Sir,” a voice calls from the other side of the rise and we spring apart. I grab Xerxes’ reins again and run a hand over my braid, though I’m not sure why. Alaric didn’t even touch my hair. But he did touch me… I shudder at the thought but try to put a mask of normalcy on before whoever is coming crests the hill. Alaric must have far more practice than me at masking his emotions because he looks completely fine, as if we hadn’t been about to kiss, as if that moment between us hadn’t meant something far more than a simple touch.

“What is it, Caldwell?”

“Captain LaRouche has just arrived, sir. He awaits you in the war room.”

Alaric’s lips thin. “He’s early,” he nearly growls. The young squire, Caldwell, looks terrified, as if this Captain arriving early is his fault and Alaric is going to take it out on him.

“I-I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t realize?—”

Alaric holds up his hand. “It isn’t your fault. The bastard likes to make an entrance,” Alric says with a roll of his eyes. “Either early or late, never on time, and usually in ridiculous finery that has no place in a war camp.” Caldwell seems to relax, even smiling a bit.

“He is indeed in…finery, of a sort, sir, though I don’t know what region uses quite so many feathers in their formal dress…”

Alaric’s lips quirk and I huff out a laugh.

“Take Xanthus to the barn, please, Caldwell. I’ll go greet Captain LaRouche.” The lad takes the horse, bowing to Alaric. He turns to me in question, clearly wondering if he should take Xerxes as well, but the horse answers the question by stomping angrily in the squire’s direction, flaring his nostrils and generally acting like an ass.

“I’ve got him, it’s alright,” I assure the man. He bows to me, looking more than a little relieved, and heads off with Xanthus in tow. Alaric turns to me.

“I have to go. I’m not sure how long I’ll be stuck entertaining the Captain…”

“It’s alright. I’ll see you…when I see you.”

It looks as if he wants to say more, as if he wants nothing more than to fall right back into the moment from before, but he quickly pulls his gaze from mine and stalks off towards the cabin.

Xerxes noses me again and I give him a pat before heading in the other direction towards the barn. I can’t stop replaying that moment in my mind, the feel of Alaric’s fingers on my cheek, the feelings rushing through my chest as he leaned down…

I puff out my cheeks and let out a long, shaky breath. Xerxes looks at me, a question in those too-intelligent eyes.

“I am in need of something strong to drink and a very, very cold shower,” I tell the horse.

Captain LaRouche, who I have nicknamed La Roach because he has bug eyes and irks me, remains for three days. Though of course Alaric and I have been parted for longer when he leaves the camp, we’ve never been parted after almost kissing . Not having been able to be alone with him since then, to make sure that he isn’t having some internal crisis and pulling away from me again, is driving me mad.

To make matters worse, Nova and Wesley have both been put on a training exercise for the week to the south. So, I don’t even have training or time with them to take my mind off of things. I couldn’t seem to concentrate in the shop this morning, nearly setting Braddock’s beard on fire, and Takara is spending a much-deserved afternoon doing ungodly things with Malcom. So, I’d decided to come spend the afternoon soaking up what might be the last bit of warmth of the season before winter arrives in the field beside the pond. I brought a blanket and a few books and Reginald packed me a small picnic as well.

I try to read, but find that I’m scanning the same page over and over without actually absorbing anything at all. I groan and toss the book aside, flopping onto my back and staring up at the clouds. The breeze blows in and though it’s cool enough to make bumps erupt across my skin, it feels good. I start making shapes from the clouds, the way Enid and I did when we were young: a rabbit, a crocodile, a sword. My lids get heavy and I let them slide closed, the gentle sound of the breeze through the grass around me quickly lulling me to sleep.

I dream of fields of flowers and gently swaying oceans, of snow-covered mountains and babbling brooks. Everything bends and changes every few minutes, never fully settling into one specific dream. I’m alone in the dream, but I can feel Alaric nearby and I feel safe and whole. The dream shifts again and I’m standing on top of what appears to be a giant beehive. I laugh at the absurdity. The buzzing sends shudders up through my feet, small shivers through my entire body. The buzzing gets louder and louder, the vibrations rumbling beneath me now, making me lose my footing. I nearly stumble and then?—

KEEVA!

I jolt awake, groggy and confused, but with my heart hammering against my chest, panic churning like acid through my veins. I blink, trying to clear the fog of dreams from my mind…and frown. I still feel the buzzing, still feel the shudders beneath my body.

“KEEVA!!” Alaric’s voice thunders in my ears and I realize that the voice isn’t an echo from the dream. He’s speeding towards me across the field, so fast he’s nearly a blur. There’s panic in his eyes and when I glance over my shoulder, I see why: there’s an entire herd of hellcats stampeding towards me. Oh gods, that’s what the buzzing was . My heart leaps into my throat, but somehow, I flip my body and push myself to my feet, the training I’ve been doing all these weeks paying off in unexpected ways. But my blood turns cold as I watch the enormous creatures barrel towards me, their spiked tails flicking behind them, their claws digging into the ground and shaking the very earth beneath my feet. I know that no amount of training will let me outrun these beasts. I whirl back and meet Alaric’s eyes.

He's still too far away.

He’s never going to make it in time.

I’m going to die.