Chapter 17

Willow had spent much of the night wide awake, the words “Dunmere Crusade” churning in her mind until they were worn down to the point of becoming hardly recognizable. It brought back memories, some pleasant, others were detestable. Dedric Dunmere… She had known only two other Dunmeres, and she had killed them both. Dedric’s parents.

Splashes of red flashed before her eyes. Bloodlust. Screams. A crying baby. She had never detested herself more than she had then. And it hadn’t been long ago, at least not long for a vampire. Thirty-five years… That was the last time she lost control. And she swore to herself she would never lose control again. Never.

Although she didn’t know what the Dunmere Crusade was, she had a good guess. And she suspected it to be partly her fault.

Packing up in the morning was a silent affair, as she had no appetite for talking and Adam never had a craving for it. They both walked on foot through the rest of the swamp because the terrain was challenging to navigate. Despite his silence, he helped her across small pools of water and through thick vines, some nearly as big as her waist. Thankfully, they didn’t see any more grundlings.

At long last, they made it through the swamp, and the sun greeted them like a sigh of relief. Surprisingly, she preferred the sunlight to the dense marshlands. Though, she could still feel the heat of the morning through her cloak. It was an unpleasant feeling.

She surveyed the landscape in awe. A deep ravine ran from one end of the valley to the other, a single bridge keeping the two sides of land from slipping away from each other. And beyond the bridge was a city. A marvelous, expanse of a city—the emperor’s city. Ironfell. A single white-gray castle shot upward from the ground, sprouting towers and spires like a budding blossom.

And at its feet lay the rest of the city, spreading far and wide like roots that kept the castle from toppling. Behind the city were the Dohr Mountains, rumored to be as treacherous as they were steep. It was forbidden by the emperor to venture into the mountains because the people who did never came back.

Her gaze swept to the other side of the kingdom, the part layered in a thick forest. Emperor Sazen chose an advantageous kingdom to settle. Between the mountains, the marshlands, the forest, and the ravine, the kingdom was practically impenetrable.

Which was precisely why it had been standing for centuries. Neither man nor beast could ravage the land and penetrate the city walls. The thought of entering the city made her nervous. Especially if people learned what she was. She would be in danger there.

“Handing me over to the emperor?” she asked tiredly. “Is that your plan?”

“That’s not going to help anyone.”

She opened her mouth to reply but stopped when a strong whiff of blood caught her attention. Her eyes melted into a deep red color, but she managed to stay in control. The blood smelled days old. It wasn’t fresh. She wouldn’t lose control.

Metal sang as it scraped against its scabbard as he pulled out his iron sword halfway, eyeing her with an intensely severe expression. He didn’t trust her. Nor should he. But what he didn’t understand was he was her mate. She would never hurt him. Never again.

“Relax,” she murmured, though her eyes remained red.

She crept forward, her back never facing away from Adam. Not when he followed after her ready to strike at any moment. Finally, she found the source of the blood. Two men—dead men—hung by their necks from a tree, their bodies dangling with the breeze wafting through. Both had several deep gashes in their skin, which contributed to the amount of blood they had lost. They didn’t smell rotten. Not yet. This had happened recently.

He slid his sword back into its sheath and approached the dead men, hardly recognizable from their brutal beating. “Who could have done this?”

“Perhaps that emperor of yours,” she replied curtly.

“I take it you’re not fond.”

“Me? No. My family tolerates him because of the amount of power he holds. Likewise, he ignores us. It’s better that way.” She raised her eyebrow expectantly, but he continued to stand there.

“What?”

“I’m not going to enter a city full of humans while I’m starving. I know you find my diet offensive, and I advise you to turn your back.”

He grimaced, seeming to finally understand. Although he gave her space, he didn’t turn his back to her. It made her all the more self-conscious. She had already dealt with his rejection of her, and she didn’t want to see his disgust too. It might break her. She didn’t want him to view her as a bloodthirsty monster. She wanted him to see the good parts of her, to want to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him.

She averted her gaze and sank her fangs into one of the men’s calves, seeing she couldn’t reach any higher. Like she had suspected, the blood was cold and hardly savory, but it still felt like a breath of fresh air after being cooped up inside all day. She hadn’t realized how badly her thirst needed to be quenched until the blood hit the tip of her tongue.

The blood rejuvenated her, made her feel stronger and more alert. A sigh of contentment escaped her, and she wished Zachariah could feel it too. For a moment, she was torn between escaping her bonds and returning to Zachariah and staying with Adam. Would Adam consider it a betrayal if she tried to help his brother?

She sighed. The vampire bond was strong between mates. To go against her own mate would be the ultimate act of betrayal. That meant she had to convince him.

Somehow.

She risked a glance at him as she wiped the little blood from her mouth and braced herself for the scorn, but there was none. In fact, he looked thoughtful and not at all disgusted. Either that, or he was good at hiding it.

She couldn’t help but sigh in relief, not just from his reaction, or rather lack of, but from finally eating after long weeks of going without. Her thirst wouldn’t be a problem anymore. At least for a little while.

“Happy?” he asked, raising a sarcastic eyebrow.

“You would be too in my place.”

He gestured to the horse, looking impatient to get going again. She put her foot in the stirrup and grabbed onto the top of the saddle with both hands, attempting to heave herself up. She couldn’t. She tried again and lost her balance, her foot getting caught in the stirrup and she would have fallen flat on her face if he hadn’t caught her in time.

For a moment, her cheeks warmed at the feeling of being held by him again, despite having her foot twisted in the stirrup. His arms felt strong around her. And she had almost forgotten how tall he was…

“Sorry,” she murmured. “Your horse is massive.”

“It’s a blood hunter’s horse,” he said as if that alone explained everything, still holding her with one strong arm while untwisting her foot with the other. He lifted her into the saddle, and they pressed forward like the whole incident hadn’t happened.

The only indication he thought anything of it was the way he rubbed his earlobe with one hand and led the horse by the reins with the other.

She perked up, a hopeful smile lifting the corners of her mouth. Could it be…a nervous habit? Did she make him nervous?

It was certainly odd… She had lived long enough to see a variety of nervous habits—but none like his. Perhaps there was a tool she could use to crack his hard-outer shell. It was small. But it was something.

The horse snorted and shook its head, its black mane flying every which way, and that’s when she saw it. She furrowed her eyebrows as she pushed the mane away to reveal a brand that looked like a slanted figure eight with a line striking straight through the middle. She had never seen a brand like this one before.

“What does this mean?” she asked.

“Hmm? Oh, that. It’s a brand.”

“I can see that,” she said sarcastically. “But what is it?”

He rounded the horse as they walked, touching the symbol lightly with his fingers. The horse flicked its tail in annoyance as if the skin there was still sensitive. “It’s a blood hunter brand. People will think twice before stealing our horses. You don’t want to be on a blood hunter’s bad side.”

“I know that,” she huffed, raising her chained wrists in indication. They were nearing the bridge where two guards were stationed, allowing travelers to pass to and from Ironfell, and suddenly, she felt ashamed. Now he was genuinely parading her around like the monster he thought she was.

“Please unbind me.”

“Absolutely not. If I’ve learned anything, it’s you can’t be trusted.”

“Adam, I beg you. This is humiliating.”

“No.”

They approached the bridge and heat flared in her cheeks as the guards stared at her, each of them resting a hand on the pommel of their swords. They obviously didn’t know what she was, but they were wary of her, nonetheless. She ducked her head in shame, trying to keep her face hidden within the cloak’s hood.

“What have ye here?” one guard asked, using his dueling cane to poke her in the shoulder. If she didn’t think she could feel any more humiliated, she was wrong.

“It’s none of your concern,” Adam replied, smacking the dueling cane away with a single hand. “I’m on official blood hunter business.”

The two guards paled as they finally noticed the twin swords strapped to his back. One of them dipped his head and gestured them through. “Go right ahead. I don’t want any trouble while you’re here.”

He led the horse onto the long, but surprisingly wide, bridge, and she noticed how crowded it was. The bridge was full of travelers, merchants, and refugees. A carriage of women wearing bright dresses and ornate headdresses, their jewelry clinking with each dip in the bridge rode past, eyeing her as they peeked their judging eyes out the window. It was bad enough riding conspicuously on what felt like an eighteen-hand horse, but her wrists were bound together like a prisoner. Even worse, an animal. The horse had it better than her.

Eyes stared at her among the hustle and bustle of the bridge. The clomping of hooves, the peddling of merchants, and the chattering townsfolk weren’t enough to drown out the stares. She couldn’t breathe.

She slid off the horse in an attempt to avoid watching eyes, but without her strength and agility, she underestimated how far she’d drop. She had to catch herself with her hands scraping against the cobblestone, and Adam was quickly at her side, helping her to her feet before a carriage trampled her.

“You’re bleeding,” he grumbled, turning her palms over, but still taking care to keep them away from the sunlight. “You have to keep pace in a place like this. No one will wait for you.”

Before she could stop them, red-tinted tears pool at the corners of her eyes as her emotions overflowed. He froze, looking uncertain and suddenly out of place. He obviously didn’t know how to react to a crying female.

“This is humiliating,” she whispered. “I understand I’m your prisoner, but do you have to do this to me?”

A tear escaped her eye and trailed down her cheek.

“Don’t cry,” he said as he finally came to his senses. He used the hood of the cloak to dab at the tears before someone noticed. “People will see the… Well, people will be able to tell what you are.”

“Does it matter? Why else would a blood hunter keep a chained prisoner?”

He visibly clenched his jaw, and he stepped closer to her to avoid a passing cart. He glanced in the direction of the city and back at her. At long last, he sighed and started fumbling with the chain. “Fine. I’m taking a gamble here. If you try to run…if you kill anyone…you will wish you were back in the washroom with one of my elixirs.”

She couldn’t believe it. Her jaw dropped as she watched the chains come off, feeling a sudden burst of strength return to her. She could sprint away. She could overpower each and every one of these humans and make a break for it. She could be free.

But…

She gazed back into his eyes and saw the intensity therein. He was waiting for her to flee. It was precisely what he thought she’d do. And he wouldn’t have been wrong a few days ago. But now…

She didn’t want to leave. She was far too fond of her mate.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “I won’t run. I won’t kill anyone. I promise.”

“Why—”

Someone elbowed him hard, and he bumped into Willow, who slammed into the horse. The horse nickered in annoyance, flicking its tail with its ears turned back.

He shook his head as if dismissing his earlier question. Instead, he nodded forward. “Come on. I want to be off this bridge as soon as possible. Believe it or not, but it’s much less crowded inside the walls.”

They didn’t have much trouble getting inside the massive city walls, and like he had said, it was much less crowded than the bridge. Sure, they walked past several squares full of merchants and customers, that were more crowded than other parts of town, but it was much more comfortable, mostly because no one was staring at her.

Instead, they were staring at Adam. Their eyes raked over his twin swords, and some nodded respectfully while others watched him with distrust. Yet, he kept his eyes steady on the path ahead. He was used to this.

A short man with a scraggly beard and dull gray eyes filled with hatred stepped in their path, crossing his arms over his chest as if trying to appear formidable.

“Damn blood hunters.”

The man spit at Adam’s feet, and Adam’s mouth twitched in irritation. She held her breath, her body tense as she waited to see what Adam would do. After all, she had heard stories of blood hunters who would act against such disrespect, but he only frowned and continued onward.

“What was that about?” Willow asked once out of earshot.

He shrugged, his frown deepening. “I must have spat in his porridge.”

She snorted, unable to help herself. Was that actually a quip? “I can see why some people hate you,” she said, a teasing hint in her voice.

His mouth twitched as if fighting off a smile, but it was the closest he ever came to smiling. What would it take to actually get him to laugh?

She followed after him, his footsteps confident as he led her through the bustling city, seeming to know exactly where he was going. A haggard-looking man sitting on the street reached toward her, and she instinctively flinched away. A beggar. Several beggars. How many were there in the emperor’s city?

A feeling of sympathy filled her as she moved past. They were trapped by their own circumstances, as she was. She wished she could help them, but she couldn’t even help herself. And she was no longer sure she wanted to.

A familiar vampire scent caught her attention and her eyes trailed across the square until she found a tall figure wearing a cloak similar to her own, though he wore his hood down beneath an awning that protected him from the sunlight, revealing blond hair with large curls and light blue eyes that contrasted against his pale skin.

“Oriel Covaci,” she murmured.

Oriel glanced up in surprise as if he had heard his name—which he probably had. They gazed back at each other, and memories of Oriel’s acquaintance filled her mind. They had known one another back in Ichor Knell, but not well. He was the grandson of Nicolae Covaci, her father’s dearest friend. And he was the male her father wanted her to form a union with. They had danced together once at a Dragomir ball before Willow’s mother died, and she went to find her own path in the human world.

What were the odds they would run into each other here?

She passed, and Oriel smiled, dipping his head respectfully, but he froze as his gaze lingered on Adam and the swords on his back. Oriel took one step forward, and then another while his fingers reached for what she assumed to be a weapon within his cloak.

Quickly, she shook her head in warning not to attack. Oriel obeyed and paused in his tracks, but not without his eyes hardening as he watched them go. She glanced toward Adam to see his gaze still forward—he hadn’t noticed the exchange.

After leaving the horse at the stables, they entered an establishment, the atmosphere loud to her overly sensitive ears. Rowdy tenants laughed and drank, though it was afternoon, utensils clattered against plates, and a dog barked annoyingly outside. She hated dogs. And not just because her transformation was a cat. Most breeds of dogs didn’t like vampires, and she suspected it was because they were often loyal to humans.

She had been so engrossed in her surroundings that she hadn’t noticed Adam had left her side and now stood with the innkeeper, whispering in low tones. She casually listened in.

“—rent a room. I’d appreciate it if you don’t spread rumors that I’m here. There are certain…people I’d like to avoid.”

“Y-y-yes, of course,” the innkeeper stuttered. It seemed as if she wasn’t the only one who had ever been uncomfortable in Adam’s presence. It must have been his charming personality. Either that or the nervousness stemmed from his profession.

The room they were renting was up a flight of stairs and at the end of a hallway. It wasn’t until the door closed behind them that she sighed in relief. No more stares. At least for now. As the daughter of Dracula, she thought she should be used to attention by now, but the distrustful, scorning glares were nearly too much to handle.

“Only one room?” she asked, surveying her surroundings. “And I thought you didn’t want to be near me.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” he growled. “But I need to rest. I hardly got a wink of sleep last night, what with the grundlings in the swamp.” He produced the vodryx chain, and she reflexively took a step backward. She refused to let him chain her again.

“I don’t want to go anywhere,” she said. And it was the truth. “I want to stay with you.”

He paused, and she held her breath. Although she knew such a confession would likely break her heart again from another rejection, she didn’t want him to chain her up.

“I can keep watch,” she said hurriedly, sensing his hesitation. “I can alert you in case those people appear that you’re hiding from.”

“How did you—”

“You keep underestimating me,” she said pointedly.

“I know… And that’s the problem.”

He took another step forward, and she took a step back. If she ever got the opportunity, she would throw the chain over the side of the ravine and watch it disappear into their dark depths.

She didn’t give him a chance. She let her transformation free, her body shrinking, her red hair replaced by black fur and her fingernails by claws until finally she sat on her haunches and looked at him with wide, feline eyes. He was tall when she was a vampire, but when she was a cat, he appeared taller.

He rolled his eyes, releasing a long-suffering sigh. “A cat… You’ve got to be kidding me. I hate cats.”

She closed her eyes in satisfaction, though keeping one fractionally open to observe him, her tail paddling lightly on the floor while she purred. He glanced at the chain in his hands before sighing again and setting it on the table beside the bed. He took off his scabbards and his leather armor, setting them aside and falling onto the bed.

“I don’t want you causing any trouble,” he said. “You better stay true to your word.”

She smiled—as much as a cat could smile—and hopped onto the bed with him in one graceful bound, curling into the crook of his arm. He groaned and pushed her away, but she returned to settle back against him.

He sighed but didn’t make any move to push her away this time, and she couldn’t help the contented purr that escaped her. She cared for him, despite him thinking she was a mistake. She longed to have his affection, and she wasn’t sure if it was the bloodbond talking or her own heart. Or both.

It seemed to be one in the same. He was her mate now, and it made a plethora of feelings churn inside of her from happiness to frustration to sadness. She had chosen a blood hunter as a mate. The choice hadn’t been wise, but it had felt right.

She reveled in the small moment of being tucked into his side, being near him and touching, and him not pushing her away. It brought her more happiness than he could possibly understand.

Although she wasn’t sure why they were in Ironfell, she had a bad feeling about it. Therefore, she would take advantage of every moment with him that she could.