Chapter 35

If Adam had thought being in the same room with Oriel and the other vampires in Ironfell had been bad, nothing compared to how he felt walking through Ichor Knell, at least several hundred pairs of eyes watching him while they weaved their way through the city. The city was dark, true, like a constant thunderstorm waiting around the bend. But it was beautiful.

Houses shone with metals he didn’t know existed. Trees glistened with gems that looked like emeralds, sapphires, diamonds, and more, astounding him, though with the lack of sunlight, an alternative to leaves made sense. But what struck him most were the masses of Red Nettle flowers adorning the city, climbing walls like vines and adding to the resplendence of the city.

His eyes drifted away from the splendor of the city as the vampires began appearing, and he did his best to hold back a flinch. Some vampires hissed. Others stared. Some shut themselves away in their homes. But one thing was absolutely clear—he was not welcome.

In fact, he had a feeling it was Willow’s presence alone that kept the vampires at bay, preventing them from tearing him to pieces.

He had never felt more terrified in his life.

More than once, he thought to reach for his iron sword, just to have the comforting familiarity in his hands. But he had to remind himself that it was no longer there. By accepting to be Willow’s mate, he walked into an unspoken agreement—he could no longer kill vampires. They were off limits. But if he had to, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill a vampire if that meant keeping his two vampires safe.

Zachariah followed at a safe distance, though as Willow had predicted, he was regarded with curiosity, not contempt. And Adam didn’t miss the way female vampires stared at him with interest as he passed. It irritated him. He was just a boy!

He gritted his teeth, shaking the belief from his mind. No, Zachariah was now a man—err, vampire, err male, err…blast it!—but it was difficult to wrap his mind around.

“They must think you a prisoner,” Willow whispered, and he couldn’t mistake the silent nervousness in her eyes. “I won’t have it.”

“What—”

His words cut off as she slid her hand into his, her fingers crawling up his arm until she firmly grasped his forearm. She tipped her head and rubbed her nose tenderly against his. Unsuspecting heat climbed his neck, burning his ears.

The action felt intimate, especially now that he understood what it meant. His knees became weak. His words failed him, not for the first time in the last couple days.

He was so dazed that he almost missed the gasps of shock around him, whispers spreading like wildfire, and he caught the hushed notes of “mates” whispered among vampires. The hissing ceased immediately, replaced by a flurry of activity as a gossip wildfire began to spread. His eyes widened. He was still terrified and in way over his head.

He took a deep breath. He could do this. For Willow.

An unwelcome posse followed them as they made their way closer to the castle, the ominous swirling clouds doing nothing for his nerves. He felt as if he was walking straight to his death. Would Dracula eat him?

If his face could have gotten paler, it did at that moment. Dracula would surely eat him. But what was another vampire tasting his blood? Willow had swallowed his blood. Zachariah had consumed his blood. He would almost be disappointed if Dracula didn’t too. His blood was something of a commodity these days.

Willow’s fingers suddenly gripped his hand hard enough that he swore she nearly crushed his bones. “Ouch, Willow!” he cried. “You’re squeezing too tight.”

“Sorry,” she said in a quiet voice. “I’m scared.”

“You’re scared? You're not the only human within a league of this place.”

It was true. He had only seen vampires thus far. At least until they got closer to the castle. His eyes widened in surprise when more than just vampires appeared. He noticed others that looked like humans, but he assumed they were witches, werewolves, and he spotted another being that changed its appearance more than once—a changeling.

He scanned the other races closely. Although the dwarven race was dying out, he spotted several among the crowd. His eyes rested on a creature he had never seen in his life. Her long, golden wings sprouted from her arms with feathers that brushed the ground as she walked. One wing dragged more than the other. She was hurt. And she was completely naked.

Willow took his jaw and turned his head in the other direction. “She’s a harpy.”

“What?” His eyebrows rose in shock. “I thought they were only myths.”

“And who do you suppose spread the rumor?”

For a long moment, he felt dumbfounded. She seemed to know a lot more than he thought she did. After years of studying, of learning from the masters, he now knew they didn’t know everything. It was rumored that the harpy myth had come about because of a woman, a human, who controlled eagles. Now he realized how ignorant it sounded.

She pulled him by the hand up the steps leading into the castle, and he frowned at the display surrounding him. While many injured beings lingered outside the castle walls, far more gathered inside with wounds that looked quite serious. The Dunmere Crusaders knew what they were doing. And it was horrifying.

On his left, he studied a female vampire with sprouted fangs who had at least a dozen iron nails pounded into her skin. She didn’t look alive, but from the way her chest moved as she breathed, he knew she had survived. On his right, he saw a male—possibly a werewolf because he looked far grizzlier than any human should—with a bandage wrapped around one eye, blood already having soaked through and turning the white a dark shade of red.

“This looks bad,” Willow said, her eyes stricken with grief. “I didn’t realize the problem had become this widespread. Some of these refugees are dying.”

Refugees…

This had to be the safest place for non-humans right now. It made sense for Ichor Knell to have become a haven, a refuge of sorts.

He surprised himself with the level of sympathy he had for everyone cluttered in the castle. He didn’t see monsters. What he saw were individuals that needed help. Individuals with feelings. With thoughts. With heartache. Not for the first time, guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders. Not too long ago, he had killed beings like these, as Zachariah had said, without mercy. How could he ever do such a thing again? He might as well lay down his weapons because he didn’t think he could kill again. Not after seeing this.

Focus, he told himself, inhaling deeply. This was not the time to stop fighting. There was a war raging outside. Besides, he needed to worry about his brother.

It took a moment to locate Zachariah a few steps behind him. He was staring at something, his mouth hanging open. His brother was staring dumbstruck at the blonde vampire that nearly died at the stake in Ironfell. Laurel Covaci, if he remembered correctly. She rushed to and fro, her hair tied back while she cleaned wounds with a quiet intensity.

“Come on,” he said, rolling his eyes. “No.”

Zachariah broke his stare to look at him with a painfully hurt expression. “But I'm…twenty-three! I'm older than Pa when he married Ma.”

“First off, you're twenty-five. If you don't know your own age, you certainly shouldn't be courting yet. Second, she's a Covaci. Willow said she's practically royalty.”

His brother crossed his arms, a frown puckering his mouth. “I find a couple things incredibly wrong and hypocritical at that statement.”

They weren’t able to continue the argument as the room was overcome by a sudden chill. He shivered, but not just because of the cold. He remembered the feeling all too well moments before Dracula had attacked him. He shivered out of dread. Dracula was going to eat him. He was sure of it.

Willow stepped protectively in front of him as a flurry of black, wispy flakes materialized into the form of Dracula. The vampire stood tall, foreboding, and downright intimidating. His fangs sprouted from his mouth as if to terrorize and terrorize they did. He froze to the spot, overcome with apprehension. Dracula was going to eat him. He would first break all the bones in his body, and then he would eat him.

“You brought the blood hunter into my home,” Dracula said in an icy, yet controlled, tone.

He swallowed hard, not wanting to appear cowed by the vampire shah. But he found it difficult to get his lips to move. “A blood hunter no more,” he said. Why did his body suddenly feel numb? He had never felt this way before, not even when he had been cornered by a troupe of witches that wanted to cut out his heart and use it as a sacrifice to their moon goddess.

“You still carry the blood gem.”

“It can do a lot of damage in the wrong hands.”

Dracula glared, but he held his own, despite how hard it was to not break into submission. He felt terrified. And it was any wonder he had not begun to tremble. But if Dracula saw him tremble, he would assume him to be weak. He was not weak.

The vampire shah turned to Willow as if he wasn’t there. “You couldn't have chosen the younger one?” he asked as he motioned to Zachariah, who looked far too excited to be in Dracula’s presence than Adam thought he should. “He is the one with fangs.” Dracula paced back and forth. Back and forth. Finally, he stopped before Willow once more. “A blood hunter, cel mic?” He used that term of endearment again. “I will not have it.”

Willow stood straighter as if challenging her father. “These people need hope. They have to see that not all humans are monsters. They need to see this, Papa. Otherwise, this world can get torn apart.”

“Do you think I care about those humans?” he raised his voice but lowered it once more when heads turned in their direction. “They have taken everything I hold dear. And now they have taken you.” He tenderly caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, his expression softening toward his daughter. He now realized something he hadn’t before. Despite her age, she was Dracula’s little girl. Her finding a mate meant him having to let her go. And it certainly didn’t help that he was both a blood hunter and human.

Used to be a blood hunter, he corrected.

“We cannot allow a rift to divide us,” she said, looking at her father. “The ceremony will happen. Today.”

“T-t-today?” he stuttered. He thought he would have more time to court her properly before being presented as her mate, though he didn’t entirely understand what it entailed. He wasn’t ready to jump in like this. He started to panic.

The ceremony… The human blood… The…togetherness with her. He needed more time to prepare. And he especially hadn’t readied himself enough to drink human blood. The idea alone made him sick. He had hoped to find a way around it, but little time remained. Something he never expected of himself, he wanted Dracula to stop the ceremony from happening.

He wanted to court her first. Maybe the ceremony could happen in another few months. Or another year. But today?

“Willow,” he said quietly. “It’s too soon.”

“Agreed. Listen to your mate,” Dracula said, miraculously on the same page as him.

“Adam, we don’t have a lot of time.” Her eyes began filling with tears, and she affectionately touched his elbow. He knew what she meant. If they didn’t do the ceremony now, they might not get another chance. Not with the crusade raging on and a bounty on his head. He wanted to be with her as much as she did him, and to a degree, he understood the urgency, but it was too soon.

Both he and Dracula looked at each other with wide eyes. Though, Dracula quickly frowned and glanced away. It seemed that neither of them knew what to do with a crying female.

“I will not have a blood hunter as kin!” Dracula spat vehemently. He braced himself for an attack, but it didn’t come. True to her word, Willow had told him Dracula wouldn’t hurt him again. It made him relax. But only slightly, for the cold look alone could possibly kill him.

“Would you have me be alone?” she challenged. “I thought you of all people would want me to be happy.”

He watched the exchange with trepidation in his heart. He had known facing Dracula would be inevitable. He loved Willow, but her father terrified him—made his forehead perspire with beads of sweat and his breathing become shallow.

With another deadly glare from Dracula, he took one step backward. And then another.

“Willow,” he tried again, this time in a strangled voice. Dracula’s intimidation tactics were working. Although he was tough and most resilient, he suddenly felt as porous as sand in Dracula’s presence. “This isn’t a good time. I came with you to Ichor Knell. Let’s leave it at that.”

She turned to look at him, but all he could do was keep his eyes on the vampire shah. He might not have any iron weapons, but he wasn’t about to be battered about like their last encounter. His ribs still pained him with every breath he took.

“You said this was what you wanted,” she said quietly, placing her hand on his cheek until he tore his gaze away from her menacing father. Hurt mingled with uncertainty in her expression, and he hated that he put it there. He didn’t mean to. But…Dracula. “Did you not mean the things you said?”

Could she not feel his unfettered terror?

“I meant it all. But I’m not welcome here—”

“No, you’re not,” Dracula interrupted.

“Papa!”

He continued as if Dracula hadn’t said anything in the first place. “—it’s too much.”

Too much dread. Too much of an audience. Too much Dracula.

“You said you trusted me,” she said, giving him a small, genuine smile. She squeezed his hand, and much of his fear evaporated. She loved him. He loved her. That’s all that mattered. “Trust me now.” She turned to her father with a defiant look in her eyes. “It will be today, with or without your blessing, Papa. What will it be?”

“Bah!” Dracula shouted. “What have you done to this family, cel mic?”

“I am doing what needs to be done.”

Dracula seethed with rage and he instinctively reached for his iron sword, but his fingers clasped around air. He took a deep breath, refusing to allow the vampire to see his fear. However, if he couldn’t see it, he likely could feel it.

“This is not how I envisioned your ceremony day,” Dracula said, seething some more. He became dangerously quiet as he stepped up to him. He was tall, but Dracula towered over him, glaring at him with a spark of hatred in his eyes. “I want to see my daughter happy. I do not care if you are her mate. I will tear you limb from limb if you ever dare hurt her. I will pick apart your body piece by piece until you are screaming for mercy.”

His entire body iced over. He couldn’t move. His lips wouldn’t budge. His body wouldn’t move. What had he gotten himself into?

The perspiration that beaded his face worsened at Dracula’s proximity. The room became unbearably hot and unbearably cold at the same time, and he had locked his knees as he stood frozen, rooted to the spot, his vision swirling with black dots.

Finally, Dracula broke his glare and fixed his eyes on Zachariah.

“You!” Dracula snarled.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Come with me. We have work to do.” The vampire shah spun in a flourish, his black cloak billowing behind him.

Zachariah quickly followed after, a giant smile stretched across his face. At least one of them enjoyed Dracula’s company because he certainly did not. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how he survived this ordeal. Suddenly, he was grateful Willow didn’t have any brothers.

“See?” she said with a bright smile. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“W-w-wasn’t so bad?” he stuttered. He put a hand to his heart to make sure it was still beating. It was. Just barely.

“I know my father isn’t the friendliest of vampires,” she said, touching his fingertips softly enough that he could have mistaken it for a feather. Her touch helped the warmth return to his body. “But I love you. If he can see that, I know he will warm up to you.”

He released a shaky breath, his stomach turning inside out with her words. This was still new to him, but he longed to hear her say those three words again and again. He honestly couldn’t understand why she loved him. He must have done something right during the time where he was doing everything wrong.

His gaze traveled from her sweet eyes and lingered a moment on her lips. He longed to kiss her like he had in the woods, but this time finishing what they started.

“Don’t get any ideas,” she laughed before pulling him by the hand out of the room and down a long hallway with vampire portraits on one side of the wall and small stained-glass windows spaced a foot apart from one another on the other. If Ichor Knell got any sunlight, the windows would be beautiful.

“I’m not getting any ideas,” he argued, his ears flushing with heat. Miraculously, his legs worked as if she had thawed them out after Dracula’s icy presence. “Where are we going?”

Once they found themselves alone, they stopped beneath one of the stained-glass windows and she turned to face him, a serious expression on her face. Her expression alone made a pit form in his stomach. Was something wrong?

“Adam… This ceremony is serious. No human has ever been on the altar before.”

“A-a-altar?” he stumbled, his eyebrows rising. Wasn’t this a simple ceremony? Of…sorts? It wasn’t until then that he realized he had no idea what this ceremony was. Were they getting married?

His body flushed with heat from his ears to his toes.

“Yes,” she said softly, taking his hand. “You seem surprised.”

Oh yes, in fact, he panicked a little bit inside. He couldn’t get married. He was a blood hunter. Blood hunters didn’t marry! Their lives were too dangerous. They were uprooted continuously and never had a place to call home. He wasn’t ready to be married. He had spent a chunk of his life training and fighting, and the thought of having a wife or…children…frightened him. He wasn’t ready to be a father. Or a husband at that.

He put a hand against the wall to steady himself.

“Adam?” she asked with a concerned voice.

“I didn’t realize we were getting married,” he finally said, unable to look at her.

“That’s a human term, Adam,” she replied. To his surprise, she lifted his chin with her fingers, making him look at her. He was dumbfounded by her beauty for at least the dozenth time since meeting her. Her hair always fell around her shoulders perfectly no matter the circumstance, and he couldn’t stop himself from gazing into the depths of her eyes. Gentle but fierce. She didn’t have many of the same physical characteristics as her father… Could she be more like her mother? “What did you think it meant to be presented as my mate?”

“That’s exactly it, Willow,” he said, starting to pace. Now he understood why Dracula was against the ceremony. It was a marriage ceremony. “I don’t know what it means. But your father was appalled by the idea. I have come to no other conclusion except we are about to get married.”

She stood still. “And…you don’t want that?”

The tone of her voice indicated that his words had hurt her, and he chastised himself for being tactless. “I never said that,” he replied, cupping her face in his hands. He didn’t know how to be married. In fact, he hardly knew how to court. Perhaps in a few months or maybe another year, he would have a better understanding. But right at this moment? “I want to be with you,” he said, brushing a strand of red hair away from her face. “I mean it. I truly do. But Willow… This is sudden. We only just arrived.”

“I know,” she whispered. “It’s scary for me too… I just have this awful feeling in my gut. Something big is about to happen. I want to be with you, even if it’s for a short time. And…I know we haven’t been in Ichor Knell long, but I’ve caught conversations here and there upon our arrival. There is the talk of an uprising against the humans.” She paused for a moment for him to take it in before continuing, “Tension is high in Ichor Knell right now. My father doesn’t care for humans. And he is the law. What do you think would happen if he breaks? What do you think would happen if other vampires fed on that hatred? You’ve never seen my father kill an entire village without blinking an eye. I have. It was horrific. What do you think would happen if vampires were let loose on humans?”

“Mass bloodshed,” he said quietly, his shoulders slumping. He hadn’t entirely understood her motives for making the ceremony happen immediately. But now he did. “You want to show your people that humans and vampires are alike. That peace is possible.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Like I said, a human has never been on the altar before. This is a big deal. Not just for them, but for me too. I want to be with you, Adam.”

He could hardly breathe. He thought Dracula had been terrifying, but he had never been faced with marriage before. What if he wasn’t good at it? What if he was a terrible husband? What if he managed to disappoint her? She deserved better than him.

But gazing into her hopeful eyes, he realized something. None of it mattered. Marriage was merely a word. What mattered was how he felt about her. What mattered was the intense desire of his to keep her safe. The desire to keep her happy. Love. If he could hold onto those things, everything would be fine.

“All right,” he said with a firm resolve. It looked as if he was about to get married. “What do I need to know?”