Page 9

ALARIC

M y blade slices through the neck of a Revenant as if it was slicing through butter. Blood sprays, hot and thick, the scent of it bitter and sharp compared to the sweet, rich aroma of Dahlia’s. At the mere thought, my fangs throb, my throat aching. It’s only been a few weeks and already I’m all but addicted. I clench my jaw, pushing thoughts of my Consort and her blood far from my mind. Being separated from her is…uncomfortable to say the least. The bond between us makes me feel as if I’m being pulled apart, stretched so tightly I might snap at any moment. I’d felt it the moment we’d left camp. Hells, I’ve been feeling it every second of every day since the Choosing. I don’t know how much of it is her blood and the binding, and how much is because she’s…mine. It’s difficult for vampires to be apart from their mates. Our entire beings crave our mates’ company, and our every instinct commands us to protect and provide for and please them. I’m not doing any of that, of course, but still, being away is entirely more difficult than I’d anticipated.

The connection with her grows stronger with every sip of her blood. I can feel her more now, like a low buzz in the back of my head. Before we left, I could feel her despair and sorrow, the darkness threatening to swallow her, but I had no idea what the fuck to do about it, and despite part of me clamoring to erase her pain, the other part is beyond irritated that I’m even having to think about what the fuck to do about it.

So, I’d done nothing. My very soul seemed to rebel, but I was determined to master these instincts and so I’d avoided her, leaving her to deal with everything on her own. A new life, a new home, pulled from her family that she so clearly adores. I’d taken her blood when I needed it, but had barely spoken to her even then. Thinking of it now, guilt twists my chest. After all, I’d chosen her —she hadn’t wanted this. I hadn’t either, but at the end of the day, it’s my fault that her entire life has been upended, that instead of a castle surrounded by riches and luxury, she’s been forced to move to a fucking war camp surrounded by vampires…

“Fuck,” I grate, moving forward across the rocky plain. I’m not handling this well, I can admit that, but things are fucking complicated. I’m not used to all of these feelings, to sharing my home, to her blood. The thought of it now makes a low growl rumble through my chest. The taste of it on my tongue, the fire it spreads through my veins, the life and vitality of it…the things it makes me want to do. In truth, that’s another reason for the distance I’ve been keeping: I don’t trust myself around her yet. The things I want when she’s near, the way my body craves hers in ways I can’t even explain or comprehend… No, no, no . I shut out the thoughts before they can spiral—and before I’m striding across this battlefield with a raging cockstand.

This Consort business is very fucking inconvenient. I sigh to myself as I add in the inevitable: so is having a mate . I still don’t understand how it’s possible, how my mate could possibly be human, but I can’t deny the truth of it. I know it in my bones, in my soul. And I hate it. I fucking hate it at the same time that I love it. It’s heaven and hell all rolled into one and if I don’t figure out how to deal with all of this soon, I’m going to impale myself on Night’s Fury just to end the headache of it all.

“On your left!” Elias calls and I turn just as another Revenant lunges for me. I sidestep and spin, whirling to lash out with my sword. The blade slices through the air with a low whistle before connecting with the Revenant’s back, easily cutting through his armor and severing his spine. He screams in pain as the silver stars burn his body from within, and falls to his knees. He bares his black fangs as I loom over him, his crimson eyes wide with pain and fury and fear. I finish the job quickly, without hesitation or thought.

Elias jogs up, his own armor covered in blood—not his own.

“Distracted, are we?” he asks with a smug smile, out of breath but as casually as if we’re out for a leisurely stroll instead of in the midst of a bloodbath.

Ignoring his jibe, I jerk my chin. “They’re falling back.” I survey the blood-soaked plain, searching for Kilgren, though I know I won’t find him. The coward never comes into battle with his men, always instead watching from afar and letting them fall in his place.

“Do you want to press after them?” I glance around and do quick calculations before shaking my head.

“No, let them go. We’ll fall back to the ridge and regroup. See if they try to press forward again or retreat back past the river.” The Revenant stronghold was just over The Devil’s Tongue, a dangerous, roaring river with only a single bridge across. To Kilgren’s credit, it’s a smart choice and easily defended, which is why we’ve never tried a full attack on them there. I was surprised when reports came in of a Revenant unit moving down towards the eastern side of the Sisters. They don’t typically engage here as there’s no real point—there’s no way through the mountains here. So, I’d made a point to come myself despite the Revenant forces being relatively small. Something about this was strange, and I’ve been fighting this war long enough to know that strange is never a good sign.

“I’ll tell the others.” Just as Elias turns to head back into the thinning fray, an arrow sails into my shoulder— through my armor. Sharp pain sears my arm, blood pouring hot and thick. I stagger back a step from the force of the blow, gnashing my teeth.

“Alaric!” Elias cries, eyes wide in shock. “How the fuck…” He trails off as I bare my fangs in utter rage, turning to find the bastard who shot me. I find him easily, standing atop a small boulder, black fangs shining as he grins triumphantly. Another leaps from the boulder and sprints away from the battle, running so fast he’s nearly a blur.

“Alaric, don’t—” Before Elias can finish, I reach up and grip the shaft of the arrow, pulling as I hold the Revenant’s gaze. The arrow tears free of my skin, taking a good chunk of flesh with it, and I hold it wordlessly out for Elias. He takes it and I smile at the Revenant.

His crimson eyes that had only seconds ago been gleaming with delight now flash with fear as I streak across the field towards him, faster than a lightning strike. He tries to fire off another arrow, but I’m on him before he can even get it nocked. Blood pours down my arm, my fingers coated with it, but my grip on Night’s Fury is as strong and steady as ever. I knock the Revenant to his back, leaping atop him and pinning him down easily. Night’s Fury is at his throat a heartbeat later and though there’s still fear in his eyes, that triumphant smile returns just before I separate his head from his body.

On some signal I don’t see, the rest of the Revenants turn and flee, falling back from the killing field in a wave. Elias is there a moment later, hand over my shoulder to staunch the bleeding.

“How in the bloody fuck did that arrow pierce your armor?” he asks as he hauls me up and we join the rest of the men.

“Stay alert,” I tell them. “Fall back to the ridge. You six—scout at our backs.” Like the well-oiled machine they are, my men (and women—the term “men” just encompasses the fighting force as a whole, of course) configure themselves into defensive lines as we draw back, ever alert. My scouts remain, fanning out and disappearing into the trees like ghosts as the rest of us retreat to our camp.

“Alaric,” Elias snaps as he falls into step beside me. “How did?—”

“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “I don’t fucking know, Elias.” It shouldn’t be possible. This armor is all but impenetrable, made from a mix of Treshian steel and the scales of the last dragon to ever walk Braxhelm. It had been a gift from Sebastian when I’d first become High General. Legendary armor from a legendary beast for a legendary man , he’d said. So how the fuck could a simple arrow pierce it?

“Get that arrow to the weapons masters and alchemists. I want it analyzed as soon as possible.”

Once back in camp, I tear through my pack to find a vial of Dahlia’s blood, pulling the stopper out with my teeth and downing the sweet contents in one long gulp. My shoulder throbs and burns, but the wound isn’t nearly the worst I’ve ever had. With Dahlia’s blood, I’ll heal in an hour or two. Already the pain is fading and the blood flow ebbs.

“Are you alright?” Elias asks as he ducks beneath the flap of my tent.

“Fine,” I grumble. I’m not used to being injured, and certainly not used to being taken care of. I’m pissed more than anything, honestly. Pissed that I was distracted enough not to notice the archer. Pissed that he somehow pierced my armor. Pissed that all I can think about right now is Dahlia and wishing she were here beside me more than anything in the world.

“Make sure we have a watch rotation set up for the night.”

“Already done,” Elias assures me and settles down on the pile of furs beside me, arms tucked casually behind his head.

“And what, exactly, do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re injured. I’m going to stay with you and nurse you back to health, my liege.”

“Fuck off.”

“Oh come on now. A sexy healer is a very common fantasy, no need to be shy. I’m sure I can find something resembling the cream robes they wear, if that will help…” He waggles his blonde brows at me and I kick him in the thigh. “Oof! That hurt.”

“It was supposed to. Go away.”

“I’m comfortable right here, thanks.” He turns his head to study me. “Unless you’d like me to bathe you? A sexy healer bathing you is definitely a fantasy?—”

Despite my injury, I lunge for him, smothering him with a blanket. He laughs as he fights me off and I wince slightly as I settle back into the furs.

“You have such a funny way of saying ‘why thank you for wanting to stay with me through the night and be sure that the arrow that miraculously pierced my unpierceable armor wasn’t coated in some kind of demon venom or something and ensure I’m alright. You are a wonderful friend and the most adept and handsome First Lieutenant in the history of the vampiric army.’” I frown, not even having thought about the arrow possibly being poisoned. I don’t feel as if there’s anything running through my veins, don’t smell any toxins, but still, he makes a good point.

I settle back, grateful for him, but I refuse to stroke his ego. I stare at the ceiling of the tent but all I see are green eyes staring back. With her blood flowing through me, Dahlia is all I can think of, filling up my entire being. I sigh, not trying to fight it, and let the thoughts of her settle my tumultuous heart. After a long bout of silence, I speak into the darkness between Elias and me.

“You aren’t that handsome…” I hear him laugh low.

“You’ve lost too much blood and are now clearly delusional. Sleep, your highness. You need your rest to recover.”

I chuckle and drift off to sleep with visions of Dahlia drifting through my head.