Good thing I have the dark glasses on. The sun’s glare is just a little too much.
“Keep going,” a deep voice bellows. “I want you to practice that maneuver a hundred times over. Until it feels as natural to you as breathing.”
Kaithar is already striding across the square. In spite of the cold, he’s wearing only a light shirt. His forehead is damp with sweat.
I hang back in the shadows, not wanting to create a disruption.
“You’re back already, Van?” He reaches my side. His expression tells me he knows something serious is going on, but he can’t resist the opportunity to give me a ribbing. “I thought you’d take the opportunity to spend at least one night in a well-insulated Khaturian tent with your newly betrothed. Under the stars, the snow and mountains all around… how bloody romantic.”
“We’re still going. I just returned to inform you of a little gift that’s been left for you in the woods.”
“I already don’t like it. You get to cruise off on a little jaunt into the mountains, leaving me to clean up the mess?”
“How do you know it’s a mess?”
“I just do. I’ve got Vikurian instincts. Spill it, Your Highness.”
I lean forward, lowering my voice. “In the lycan trap at the first perimeter, there’s an undead creature. Former imperial military, by the looks of what’s left of his uniform. Poor sod. The man’s long dead and departed from his body, so don’t you get any compunctions about destroying the husk. I left it animated because I want you to take a squad and study the accursed thing. Figure out the quickest and most efficient way to kill it. Then prepare for more to appear.”
Kaithar curses in Vikurian. “There’s no such thing as the undead.”
“There is now. If I can exist, then so can that.”
Kaithar’s expression hardens. “I’ll prepare a squad. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that this is happening now. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is linked to someone in the capital.”
“There are always going to be people that want to get rid of me,” I say quietly. “Let’s bide our time—for now, we gather intelligence and bolster our defenses. But if it escalates, I will act.”
“T’would be easy enough for you to go to the capital alone,” Kaithar whispers conspiratorially. “Find out who’s behind it. Kill them. With your speed and strength, it wouldn’t be difficult.”
“Patience, brother. It’s best to understand before rushing in. There might be one, or many. They might be concentrated in the capital or spread around Rahava. Best to exercise caution. I’ll take action when the time is right.”
If Aralya is alive and my reckless and impatient actions caused anything to happen to her, Finley would never forgive me.
“We’ll be back on the morn. Quietly prepare our defenses. And if I return with a Khaturian mage or two, don’t be surprised.”
“You would use magic to defend us?” A dark shadow crosses Kaithar’s face. He remembers all too well how they fought us. Bolts of flame and arrows of ice. Poisonous miasmas and mind-tricks; men descending into madness from unseen horrors, twisting in their minds. “They wouldn’t be welcomed by the troops.”
“They don’t have to be welcomed. Just accepted. The Khaturians won’t defy me. And when it comes to defending my land, I’ll use everything at my disposal. Those that don’t agree are free to leave.”
34
FINLEY
We’re moving again. I’m in Corvan’s arms, and he’s warm and solid and faster than the wind itself.
I’ve wrapped a thick woolen scarf around my face to shield myself from the ferocious roar of the icy wind. The dark lenses were an inspired thought; they protect my eyes from the cold air, which becomes a powerful torrent when he moves this fast.
Faster than a horse. Faster than a mountain cat. Faster than an arrow shot from a crossbow, I’m certain.
I’m astonished by his strength and speed. My mind can barely comprehend it. Just a few weeks ago, I was a simple baron’s daughter, waiting to be married off to some miserable old lord who would parade me around and take me to his bed and expect me to keep quiet and demure and bear his heirs.
Never could I have predicted I’d end up with this man.
He’s truly like a god upon this earth.
As we head into the mountains proper—leaping across chasms as if they were nothing; running up the side of murderously rocky slopes as if they were flat ground, and he takes us airborne time and time again until I grow used to the sight of the uninterrupted blue sky and the clouds with nothing to anchor us but Corvan himself—a profound thought hits me.
This man… this vampire…
He could do anything. To me, to the ordinary humans that populate Rahava. His power is seemingly endless.
To see Corvan angered would be a terrifying thing indeed.
And the only things tethering him to the world of mortals; to goodness and dignity and honor…
Are himself and his people.
And perhaps… me.
How strong he must be, of mind and character, to stay in that castle and carry out the duties of a lord; to take responsibility for his people and attend to mundane tasks like paperwork and administration and taxes, to continue to pay heed to the wellbeing of his servants and his soldiers.
To show such discipline and restraint.
Here is a man of immense power, and he chooses to stay bound to his mortality, even though he could take the entire world for himself if he wished.
Other men I’ve known… with such power in their grasp, they would behave very, very differently.
What makes a man good?
What makes a man evil?
The air grows thinner, the cliffs more precarious. Snow is everywhere, pristine and blinding. I start to feel lightheaded and giddy. All I can focus on is his broad chest and the feeling of being encased in his powerful arms; it’s as if he’ll never, ever let me go.
I don’t want him to let me go. And now I know that he won’t hurt me.
Back there, after we fucked, when he tasted my blood once again…
He was so magnificently restrained.
Delicate and tender.
Erotically so.
And here I am, being carried away into the dangerous Khaturian Mountains, and I’m getting all warm and flustered, and it’s a good thing I can’t see his face right now, because I don’t know what I would do.
The last time… when he drank from me…
I’m loath to admit it, but I enjoyed it.
Suddenly, we shift direction. The momentum changes as Corvan begins to slow.
We’re going down, and the precarious stone slopes have turned into a gentle undulating mass of snow.
We’re descending into a valley, and there’s a river there, snaking through the snow-covered plains, and it’s not frozen over; in fact, steam rises from its brilliant aquamarine surface. On either side of the river are verdant green bushes, thick and lush, leaves gleaming in the brilliant sunlight. Now I can see stones as well; flat, polished by the constant flow of water, covered in silvery-green moss.
It’s breathtakingly beautiful.