The pyre was tall, built with wood from trees around our farm that I helped cut just a couple of hours ago. It was beautiful, adorned with several different colors of roses from my mother’s garden. I’d personally picked each one while my father, uncles, and Trey were erecting the wooden structure, and placed them on it once it was built.
I was told it was customary for the family of the fallen to prepare the soldier for his final resting place. Since Jonathan had no family present, Salena and my mother bathed him, clothing him in attire fit for one of the king’s best fighters. They made sure he had weapons on him, daggers in his boots and in sheaths at his waist, with his own sword resting at his side, his hand wrapped around it. He was a powerful presence on top of the pyre, so powerful it was hard to believe he was dead, but the hole where his heart used to be proved he was.
“Why the weapons?” I asked my father quietly as we waited for the others.
“So they can protect themselves in the afterlife, and have them when they rise again.”
“Rise again?”
“Yes. They believe their souls will be reborn in the future, much like sorcerers do.”
“Sorcerers? Like… witches?”
My father sighed, reaching over to gently rest a hand on my shoulder. “I have a lot to teach you, Bellame. Please, forgive me for not having already done so.”
“You’ve taught her many things already, my brother,” Matthew said, coming up beside us. “Bellame is a good person who knows right from wrong. She’s bright, talented, and very powerful in her own right. She’s trained hard and knows how to slay the monsters that threaten us all. Not only that, but there aren’t many people would have taken on the responsibility that you agreed to when asked. You’ve served the prince well.”
Matthias appeared in the darkness, Trey right behind him. “Agreed. And it says a lot that Prince Alexander asked of you what he didn’t ask of anyone else. He trusted you, Marcus, with the one thing that meant the world to him. You have done a fine job raising his daughter and preparing her for the battle to come.”
When my father didn’t reply, I looked up at him, and inhaled sharply at the deep emotion I saw swirling in his dark eyes. I could feel his pain and sorrow, and I had to fight back tears. He was one of the strongest men I knew, but right at that moment, it looked as if he might break.
“Daddy?”
It had been years since I called him that, but it seemed to shake him out of his thoughts. Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, he pulled me close and placed a kiss on the top of my head. “Everything’s okay, baby girl,” he promised. “It’s all going to be just fine.”
I wondered which one of us he was trying to convince, but I let it go when I saw Salena making her way toward us, Twila in her arms and my mother by her side. “What do we do now?” I whispered urgently, realizing I had no idea what came next.
A soft smile crossed Salena’s lips as she came to a stop in front of me. “Now, we say what would be the equivalent of a prayer to humans and send Jonathan on his way with the morning light.”
Dawn was near, I could feel it. I could always feel it, which I assumed was normal for all vampires. We needed to be inside before the first rays of light hit, or we would start to burn, and then…
“No!” I gasped, my gaze going to the man who rested just a few feet above us. “We can’t do that! It will incinerate him!”
Salena frowned, glancing behind me to Jonathan and back, before asking gently, “What did you think we were going to do, Princess?”
“Well, we were building everything out of wood. I assumed we were going to…” I paused, unsure how to say it.
Salena cocked her head to the side as she watched me closely. “How would that be any different than letting him meet the dawn? We light the wood on fire, it goes up in flames and his body becomes ash. We leave him out here for the sun to claim, he becomes ash.”
I swallowed hard, knowing I was being unreasonable but unable to help it. “The agony a vampire feels at the touch of sunlight is excruciating,” I whispered. “I know he’s already gone, but the thought of him suffering like that.” I shrugged helplessly, admitting, “It hurts me.”
Salena’s eyes widened in surprise, and then understanding. “You’ve felt it,” she murmured in awe. “You’ve felt the early morning light and lived.”
I hesitated before nodding. “I got home late one morning, just when the sun was coming up over the horizon. It touched me, burned me. I’ve never felt anything like it. I’ve been burned before. It sucked, but nothing like when the sun touched my skin. It literally felt like I was being torched from the inside out. I never want one of my people to go through what I did, and I was only out in it for a few minutes.”
Wetness shimmered in Salena’s eyes as she whispered, “You are a true princess, caring about so many that you have never even met. Definitely worthy of the title.”
My mother stepped forward, her kind, pale green eyes full of love and compassion as she reached out and ran a hand gently over my head and down my hair. “Bellame, I know it is hard to understand, and I know how much it hurt you that morning. I was there. I witnessed your pain. I stayed with you the entire time until all of your wounds were healed. But you can’t just change the beliefs and customs of your people because of that one incident. You need to let this warrior go with honor. Let him face the final step in the way in which he believed.”
She was right, but I didn’t have to like it. Biting my lip, I nodded, turning to face the pyre. “I’m ready.” I wasn’t. Far from it. But the sunrise would creep in soon, and we needed to finish the ritual.
“Now, we say the words that will set Jonathan’s soul free and on to the afterlife.”
“You mean, his soul is still in his body?” I gasped, my gaze swinging to Salena in shock. “I thought it left the body as soon as someone was killed.”
“That is not what we believe,” she said quietly, her eyes on Jonathan. “It is still in there, waiting for us to set it free. A soldier’s soul doesn’t let go easily. He was placed on this earth to protect. His body may be unable to do that now, but his soul will still be fighting.”
The thought of the man’s soul stuck in a body that was no longer alive and moving made my stomach churn. Was he in there, struggling to break free? I couldn’t stand the thought of it. Taking a deep breath, I nodded. “Then, let’s get it done.”
“I will say the ritual words this time, if you approve, Princess?”
“Wait, shouldn’t they be said by a minister or something,” I asked, realizing we had no one like that around.
Salena nodded, her eyes alighting with something that resembled pride as she looked at me. “Yes, they should. I have laid several soldiers to rest in the past, Princess.”
I was beginning to see that there were more reasons Salena was on the run besides just the fact that her husband sent her away. She was someone special. Important. She needed to be guarded, and it looked like I had just taken on the role of her protector. “Please, proceed,” I said quietly, my eyes never leaving her as she gently placed Twila in my mother’s arms. How was I going to keep her and her daughter safe?
Moving forward, Salena stood in front of the pyre and raised her hands up high, tilting her head back as the moon shone down on her. She began to sing a song about a warrior who was strong and loyal. One who would do anything to protect the God he followed. It went on for several minutes, and while I watched, the moon’s illuminating presence seemed to move until it was engulfing not only both Salena and Jonathan, but the rest of us as well.
When the song ended, Salena lowered her head to look at Jonathan, her arms extended out toward him as she began to chant.
“Oh, great one, listen to my words,
Your son has fought his last fight,
Taken his last breath.
He is ready to come home until called upon another day.”
As I watched, the light surrounding Jonathan seemed to brighten even more, giving off a pulsing glow.
“Accept this warrior into the next life,
Release him from this world,
Allow him to rest until needed again,
To fight another day.”
I caught my breath when it looked as if Jonathan were incased in a bright white light, and then suddenly, the light was gone as if it had never been. Everything went dark, even the moonlight seemed to dim.
“Is that it?” I asked softly, after a long moment, unable to stop myself. “Did his soul move on?”
Salena nodded, slowly turning toward me, tears in her eyes. “Yes, it is done.”
“Who taught you how to do that?” I whispered. I still couldn’t wrap my head around what I’d just seen.
“My mother,” Salena admitted, with one last look at where Jonathan lay. “She was a sorceress, my father a vampire. She taught me everything she knew before she passed away a few years ago.”
“So,” my eyes narrowed as I tried to understand, “vampires and witches have the same beliefs?”
“Some of them,” Salena agreed, moving past me to take Twila from my mother’s arms. “You would be surprised at some of the similarities they have. And they prefer to be called sorcerers and sorceresses, not witches.”
“Oh!” I whispered with a grimace, hoping I hadn’t offended her. I had a lot to learn. “I apologize.”
“No apology necessary,” she murmured with a small smile.
“Come on, Salena, I’ll show you and your sweet child to the room you will be staying in while you’re here.”
I waited until they were out of sight before asking my father, “Mom realizes they probably aren’t ever leaving, right? They have nowhere to go. This is their home now.”
Dad nodded slowly, his gaze on where the women had disappeared just moments before. “Yes, she does, as she knows you will be leaving soon. She just prefers to ignore it all for as long as possible.”
“Me?” Had I heard him right? “Where am I going?”
“To Angel’s Pass.”
“Angel’s Pass?” I whispered, a shudder running through me at the thought of leaving the only home I’d ever known. “I don’t even know where that is. What if I don’t want to go?”
“You will, Princess. It is your destiny, and you must follow it.”
“I don’t want to go alone.”
“You won’t,” Trey promised, coming over and slipping his hand into mine. “We go together, Bel. Always.”
“Treyton, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Uncle Matthias cut in, but I heard the resolve in his voice. He already knew his son was leaving, too.
“I go where Bellame goes,” Trey said stubbornly. “She needs someone she can trust who will always have her back on this journey. That’s me.”
Sighing, Matthias nodded, but I could tell he wasn’t happy. I didn’t blame him, but I wasn’t going to turn down Trey’s offer. I wanted him with me. The only problem was, I knew we couldn’t do it alone, either. We would need help. I just had to figure out where to find it.
Apprehension filled me as I held Trey’s hand, my gaze on Jonathan. He had been a true warrior. A fighter for the king. Now, he was dead. Would that be me someday? Laying on a pyre built out of a pile of wood while someone begged a higher power to rescue my soul and send it on to the next life until I could be reborn? I wasn’t ready to die. I still had so much to live for. My family. My first date, my first kiss. My first love. Had Jonathan known love?
I stood staring at the soldier in silence, clutching my cousin’s hand tightly until the first dim rays of sunlight broke through the darkness. Even then, I still didn’t move.
“Bellame, we need to get you inside,” my father said gruffly from where he stood talking quietly to my uncles. “The sun will be out soon.”
It was then that I realized two things. The first was that steam had started to rise from Jonathan’s body where it lay just a few feet from me. The second, even though I was slightly uncomfortable, I wasn’t in pain. Not like I was the year before when I disobeyed my parents and stayed out longer than I should have.
Slowly, I raised my arm, feeling the light warmth of the first rays of dawn slide over my arm. It was amazing. I stared in awe, unable to believe that I wasn’t frying in the sun.
Suddenly, out of nowhere there was a sharp, searing pain on the inside of my forearm. I cried out, falling to my knees as the agony slammed through me. It spread steadily throughout my body, but seemed to pulse and throb just in that one spot on my arm. I cradled it close to my side, fighting a scream that wanted to tear from my throat.
I needed help. I couldn’t move, frozen in fear, the throbbing pain in my arm excruciating. “Daddy!”
He was there in an instant, lifting me into his arms, holding me close as he raced toward the house. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” I knew he thought it was the sun that was hurting me, but he was wrong. I had no idea what it was, but it wasn’t the soft rays of light that were hitting my skin. It was something else, and it was terrifying.
Less than five minutes later, I was in my room on my bed. I lay on my side, curled up in a fetal position, huge shudders wracking my body. The thick blinds were in place and dark curtains were pulled tightly shut so that no sun could get in.
“Oh my God, Marcus! What do we do? This is so much worse than last time. Get some water. She must be burning up! Why did you let her stand out there so long?”
“Not the sun,” I managed to gasp before moaning loudly in pain.
“Go get some cold water and bandages, Marcus! And some of that cream I used last time. It seemed to help,” my mother demanded.
Peering through squinting eyes, I was tempted to laugh when I saw her glaring at my father, her hands clenched tightly into fists at her sides, daring to order him around when she was half his size. It had never stopped her before, and I could tell it wasn’t going to now either.
“Mama. Please.”
They both turned to look at me, frustration and worry on their faces. “Bellame,” Mom whispered, coming closer to sit on the edge of the bed, “I need to get you cooled down. It will help.”
“No,” I rasped, shaking my head, wincing when a stab of pain sliced up the back of my neck. I still cradled my arm to my stomach, where it continued to throb in pain. Bile rose up in my throat, and I had to fight the urge to throw up.
“Bellame, you have to let me help you.” I heard the helplessness in her voice, knew she was scared, but there was nothing she could do.
“Won’t help,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. Taking deep breaths, I lay there for a long moment before I said, “It isn’t the sun. It’s something else.”
“What could it be?” my mother demanded, leaning closer to me. “What is causing you so much pain?”
Slowly, I held my arm out, twisting it slightly to show them the inside of my forearm. I’d caught a glimpse of it when Dad was carrying me to the house, but was seeing it closely for the first time now with them. “I have no idea, but it looks like I’ve been branded,” I said lightly, trying to make a joke out of it, although it was anything but funny to me. I had what appeared to be a tattoo etched deeply into my skin. It looked like a dragon with flames surrounding it, and I could just barely make out the outline of what I thought was the letter J in it. I’d never seen anything like it.
“Oh no!” my mother cried, her hand going to her mouth, her eyes widening in shock. “Marcus, how could this be happening?”
“I don’t know,” Dad muttered, reaching out as if to take my arm in his hand, but stopping just before he touched me. “I’ve never heard of anything like this before, Cassandra.”
“Me neither,” she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. “What are we going to do?”
“Dad, what’s wrong with me?” I whispered, fear filling me as I listened to them. I had no idea what was going on, but somehow, it seemed as if it were going to be even worse than finding out I was a vampire princess destined to go to war to save my people.
“Nothing is wrong with you, Princess,” he said, sighing deeply as he slowly lowered himself to sit on the other side of my bed. “It would seem that you’ve been blessed twice.”
“You call this a blessing?” my mother asked, her eyebrows raising as she looked from me to him.
“I call my daughter a blessing.”
My mother’s features softened, and a small smile tilted up the corners of her lips. “Yes, she has definitely been that for us over the years.”
“Mama, please, tell me what’s wrong with me.”
“Nothing is wrong,” my father promised, gently taking one of my hands in his. “When the prince brought you to us after you were born, he told us things. Things we’ve never told another soul, not even Matthew and Matthias know. Now, it would seem it is time to tell you, but it looks like it will be a story for tonight when you wake up. You need your rest first.” When I would have argued, he shook his head, “Bellame, trust me, all this mark means is that you are even more special, if that could be possible. Instead of having one destiny, it looks like you have two. Please, get some sleep. Your mother and I will tell you everything soon, but you need to be able to comprehend it. Right now, you can hardly keep your eyes open.”
He was right. I was fading out fast. I was utterly exhausted. The pain was slowly starting to ebb away, but my entire body still ached, my head pounded, and I was afraid I was going to lose what little I ate before Trey and I left to go hunting all over my bed.
“Promise we will talk about it when I wake up?”
“Promise,” Dad said gruffly, leaning in to kiss my forehead softly. “We have a lot to discuss, Princess.”
I didn’t know if that was a good thing or bad thing, but what I did know is that after all of these years, I would finally be getting some answers. Allowing my eyes to slowly drift shut, I whispered, “I love you both; always, no matter what.”
“We love you, too.” It was my father. My father who had always been there for me. The only one I knew, and that wasn’t going to change. No one was going to take him from me, or me from him.
On that thought, I allowed myself to sink into the darkness that waited for me, my heart heavy at the thought of leaving my parents soon. Destiny or not, I didn’t want to be far from them.
He stood alone by the edge of what looked like a large lake, his back to me. His hands were shoved in the front of his jeans, his shoulders straight, head held high as he stared out across the calm water. A mop of thick dark hair teased his neck, stopping just short of the collar of his shirt. My hands itched to touch the inky blackness of it, to see if it was as soft as it looked.
As I watched, he bowed his head, his shoulders slumping. He said something so low I couldn’t understand him. I moved closer, as if floating through the air, wanting to be near him. Needing to hear the words he was speaking. There was a sadness surrounding him that pulled at my heart. He was hurting, I could feel it.
“Why? Why did you have to leave me?”
There was so much pain in his voice. So much suffering. I couldn’t stand it.
“You left me alone.”
It was a dream, only a dream. I knew this, had been through it twice before. Both times, I’d watched him grieve in silence for several minutes before somehow breaking the contact and waking to leave him in peace, but this time, I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and whispering, “You aren’t alone.”
He swung around, his hand going to the dagger strapped to his waist, his dark green eyes narrowing on me, full of suspicion. “Who’s there?”
He couldn’t see me like I could see him. Interesting. Although, it was my dream. And he wasn’t real. Just a figment of my imagination. Someone I made up the month before in my sleep. Right?
“Who’s there?” he repeated, sliding the dagger from its sheath. “Answer me.”
I kept quiet. As much as I wanted to whisper my name to him, I held back. After all, it was just a dream. To speak my name, to hear his, would make it seem real. I didn’t want to feel that spark of hope begin to beat in my chest.
After one last look, I broke contact, letting go of what could be.