Chapter 23

The last time Adam had ever felt this weak and incapable was when he had undergone poison immunity training at Sedhyl. Each time the potency was increased, he would spend days, sometimes weeks, in a near-death recovery. There had only ever been one time the training was of use, but mostly, it had been a waste of health and strength. Some would say it was better to be safe than sorry.

He blinked his eyes open as he woke from a deep sleep, and as soon as his eyes adjusted to the afternoon light, he found Willow sitting in the chair beside him, resting her head on top of her arms that were folded on the bed. And she was sleeping. His heart warmed at the sight, though he would never admit it.

He didn’t know at what point he started trusting her, but it said something that he felt no need to lunge for a weapon or call upon the magic in his blood gem. And it said something about her that she didn’t hurt him while he slept. Did she really mean what she said? About wanting him to give her a chance?

He smiled softly as he tenderly trailed her red hair through his fingers. It was soft, like a pheasant’s feather undercoat. Full of life and vivid color.

But she was a vampire.

Uncertainty overtook him as he retracted his hand. He wasn’t sure what to do anymore. What to think… Zachariah had to live out his life as a vampire—there was no other option. And he would gladly deal with that over the alternative of losing his brother. But Willow… Yes, he cared for her. A lot. Especially after she went out of her way to save his brother. But she was a vampire! The daughter of Dracula. Rani of all vampires. He didn’t fit into her world. She certainly didn’t fit into his. One of these days, he had to tell her to leave, and this time, she couldn’t come back.

The thought caused a twinge in his heart.

She began stirring, and when she opened her eyes, she jerked into a sitting position. “You’re awake! Don’t move, I have something for you.”

She disappeared, and a minute later, she returned with a plate of…human food. Steaming beef. Diced potatoes. Cooked carrots. And a slice of warm, buttered bread. Where did she get all this?

His mouth began watering at the hearty aroma.

Placing the plate onto his lap with a utensil, she teased, “Here’s a gift from your wife.”

He groaned, heat rushing to his ears as he hid his face with his hand. “You heard that part? I was trying to protect you. You don’t know how ruthless Wyler can be.” He shouldn’t have said it in the first place. Now Wyler knew his secret. He knew he had broken at least two of the cardinal blood hunter rules. If Wyler acted, Adam could die for these secrets.

“I got a small sample. Little good the lie did you.”

Little good, indeed. The little white lie backlashed. But at least he tried.

“Anyway,” he said, changing the topic. “Did you steal this meal?”

“No!” she grimaced. “What do you take me for? I visited the nearest town and bought the ingredients. Although, I admit I didn’t make the bread. That is not in my expertise.” When he raised an eyebrow, she continued, “I lived one of my lives as a farmer. I know enough about human food to put up a good pretense.”

Life as a farmer? How many lives had she lived? She was twelve times his senior; therefore, it would make sense that she would have lived many different lives, given her background as a nomad. Maybe someday he would ask about it, but right now, he was famished.

To his surprise, the meal was delicious. Simple, but delicious.

“How is Zachariah doing?” he asked.

“Exceptionally well,” she smiled. “He’s talking now.”

His fork clattered to the plate, his head snapping up to meet her gaze. “Is he really? But it’s only been a couple days! What is he saying?”

She laughed, her voice like a wind chime tinkling in the evening breeze. “He’s still a bit disoriented. He doesn’t remember much since going feral. And he’s constantly asking to see you. I think he’s lonely.”

Immediately, he weakly pushed the bed sheets aside and attempted to leave the bed, but she pushed him back down with a firm hand, a stern look on her face. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To see my brother.”

She shook her head. “Another time, perhaps. I still think it’s best to keep a little distance. If he were to lose control, if he took any of your blood, you won’t likely survive when your body is still trying to recuperate what you lost. You’ll see him soon. I promise.”

Giving his hand a fond pat, she disappeared, and all was quiet within the cabin. Mixed emotions warred inside of him ranging from excitement, to nervousness, to sorrow, to joy. He still couldn’t believe it—Zachariah was recovering! Although he didn’t like facing the reality of how, he still felt grateful for what she was doing.

After some time as evening started to fall, a voice broke the silence, Willow’s voice coming from outside. “There you go! Take your time. I’m sure it’s been years.”

“It’s very…bright.”

He felt like he had a miniature heart attack as he was overcome with disbelieving excitement, his eyes widening. He recognized that voice. It was a voice he hadn’t heard in literally years.

Zachariah.

Despite Willow’s warning, he pulled the blankets away and lowered his feet to the floor. The moment he bore his own weight, he nearly collapsed and had to catch himself on the chair next to the bed. He felt frustratingly weak. But that didn’t stop him. It had never stopped him before.

Step by step, he moved to the next room, keeping a constant hand on the wall to help stabilize himself. He stopped at the open window and looked outside to see Willow holding both of Zachariah’s hands, guiding him into the evening light. It wasn’t bright at all, but to someone who had lived in a cellar for years… It would make a stark difference.

He smiled at the sight of his brother out of the cell and under control. Instead of long, disheveled hair, Zachariah looked to have gotten a nice haircut—it wouldn’t surprise him at this point if it were Willow’s doing. He wore different clothes that hadn’t become ragged over time, and dare he say it, he knew women would find him incredibly handsome. Whether it came from Zachariah’s transition into a vampire or from his natural looks, he wasn’t sure. His dark brown eyes were filled with wonder at the world around him, a good amount of curiosity in their depths. He clutched Willow’s hands as if he was afraid the ground might open and swallow him.

His heart burst with happiness at the sight. He had waited years for this moment. Unfortunately, he had gone about curing him the wrong way. It took another vampire to help him see that. Yes, he could accept Zachariah for what he was. He wouldn’t make the mistake again.

Zachariah looked up from his feet and stared back at him. He held his breath, unsure how his brother would react. But to his pleasant surprise, Zachariah’s face broke into a wide smile, and he waved freely as if he hadn’t been locked away for years. That was Zachariah’s charm. Ever the optimist.

Returning the wave, he smiled softly. He’d been doing a lot more of that lately. It had been a long time since he had been this happy, he couldn’t help himself.

In a flash, Zachariah’s eyes turned red, his fangs sprouting. He instinctively flinched back, beating his brain to remember where he left his weapons. But he couldn’t fight his own brother!

Willow roughly grabbed Zachariah’s chin and turned his head to look at her. He whimpered, but he didn’t fight back. “Don’t lose control,” she said, an intense expression. “Take a deep breath. Smell him. Now put it out of your mind that he’s food. You’re not allowed to feed on family, friends, or anyone else not approved by your shah.”

His brother whimpered again, and she continued. “You will learn more when you visit the Homeland.”

She was right…Zachariah wasn’t ready. He couldn’t be around him yet.

He made his way back to the bed and collapsed in exhaustion from walking to and from the other room. He felt useless, and it frustrated him that he couldn’t recover quickly. Taking it day by day seemed to be the only answer, and that was precisely what he would do.