Embers in the Snow: A Vampire Fantasy Romance

“Finley, I’m so relieved you’re back. You okay now?” Kastel is pacing up and down beside the window. He’s a bundle of nervous energy. So is Garan, who stands there fidgeting, moving from side to side, clenching and unclenching his fists. They don’t even realize where I’ve been. “That fucking archduke. Can’t believe we got deceived. For all his charm and fake hospitality, he’s gone and sent father away, and now they’re fighting off the fucking imperial army. We’ve got to get out of here, Finley. Back to Ruen. I don’t care if we have to fight our way out. He’s as mad as the rumors say. I knew we were right to come after you.”

I glance at Aderick. His face is pale, but he’s standing on his own, without the wheelchair. A loose white shirt covers his wound. He’s slightly hunched over, but he doesn’t look to be in significant discomfort. “What do you think, Rick?”

“Realistically,” he says slowly, cautiously, “it would be stupid for us to try and bust out of here. We stand no chance against the Tyronese, and if he got word you’d escaped, that inhuman bastard would come after us.”

“We gotta try something,” Garan protests. “Otherwise we’ll be stuck here forever.”

The faint screams of men reach us from outside, accompanied by the terrified whinnies of the horses. I’ve never heard stable horses so spooked before.

The sun sinks deeper, painting the sky red.

The atmosphere is strange. It’s as if the air is filled with a certain kind of madness, and it’s affecting me.

I want Corvan. I want to feel his touch; his warmth, his addictive presence, protective and yet undeniably dangerous to his enemies.

I’m addicted to him; to his power, his elegant-yet-brutal beauty.

It feels like anything could happen.

And yet my brothers and Garan don’t understand a thing. How could I ever explain to them that I’ve already tasted ecstasy with the Archduke of Tyron, and I’d do it again and again?

I’m changing.

I yearn for him to drink from me again.

For better or worse, I’m changing.

Oh, to hell with it all.

I take a deep breath.

“Has he treated us badly?” I ask softly, meeting each of their gazes in turn. “Since we’ve arrived, he’s shown us nothing but hospitality and courtesy. He saved Aderick’s life.”

“He locked our father in the dungeons,” Kastel says flatly. “For no reason at all.”

Anger flares inside me. “Your father hit me right in front of Corvan’s men. He hit me, just like he always does. He arranged for me to be married off without me having any say in the matter at all.”

All this when he knew the rumors about Corvan. How ironic that his plans have backfired spectacularly.

And all along, he knew about my mother.

He hid the truth from me. I don’t know whether she’s dead or alive.

“Your father’s lucky he isn’t dead.” I snap. Trembling, I realize my hand is raised, as if to strike Kastel.

No. You can’t become like him.

Slowly, I close my fingers and make a fist. I lower my arm.

“Finley.” There’s a tremor in Kastel’s voice. “What’s wrong with you?”

An icy calmness descends upon me. I’ve never felt this way before; detached, but able to think with perfect clarity. I look at each of my brothers in turn, then at Garan. “Stay here. Don’t do anything rash. Don’t provoke the guards. Don’t do anything that would land you in the dungeons. Corvan’s been good to you so far, but I can’t predict what he’ll do if you test the limits of his tolerance, and I don’t know him well enough to be able to beg for his leniency on your behalf.”

Well, that last part’s a small lie. Corvan would listen to me. I’m fairly certain of that.

But I need to get these boys to think twice about doing anything rash and foolish. Even if it saved my life, their adolescent impulsiveness is what got them into this mess in the first place.

I’m not going to let them put themselves in danger again.

This time, I actually have the ability to influence things in some small way.

Outside, the horses are still shrieking. Their panicked whinnies grate on my nerves like cutlery on glass. I hate the fact that they’re so afraid. It’s unnatural. There’s a wrongness about the undead horde that permeates the air all around us, repulsing me.

I can feel it.

That must be what they’re reacting to.

“You’re safe here,” I tell the boys. “There’s no point in getting worked up. And if you think they’re really fighting against the imperial army, take a closer look outside. Wait and see. Those men are not part of the emperor’s army. They’re… let’s just say things are a lot more complicated than what they appear to be on the surface. But when I say that you’ll be fine, you just have to believe me.”

Aderick leans heavily on his crutches, his blue eyes wide. “You’re different, Fin,” he says quietly. “You’ve changed.”

“Did you expect me to stay the same after everything that’s happened? I dare say you’re different too, Rick. All of you are. And if you don’t start to see what’s going on in the world outside Ruen’s borders, you’ll make the same mistakes our father has.” Bittersweet emotions swirl in my chest. “My betrothal was in exchange for your admission into the Knights’ Academy. You and Kastel both. And as much as I appreciate your efforts to rescue me, I don’t need to be rescued. I’m at peace with my fate. So when Corvan releases you—and he will—go and join the academy. Become somebody.”

My brother, who risked his own life to save me, swallows hard. “Y-you sure about all this, Finley?”

If you can learn to become a decent man, and put half the energy you put towards rescuing me into being a fair and just Baron of Ruen, it will be all worth it.

“I’m sure.”

Besides, with everything that’s happened to me; the promise of magic flowing through my veins, and damn Corvan himself, I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine.

I’m more in control of my own fate than I ever was.





40





FINLEY





As I leave the guest quarters, the big guard offers me a respectful bow. “My lady.”

“What’s your name, Sir?”

“Malkham, milady.”

“Malkham. Pleased to meet you.” I offer him a smile. ‘Thank you for keeping an eye on my brothers and their friend. They might act a little rashly from time to time, and I only ask that you grant them a little patience and understanding. I’ve done my best to reassure them, but they really don’t have an inkling of what’s going on outside these walls.”

And neither do I, really.

All I know is that Corvan’s out there, fighting. He might seem invincible, but part of me can’t help but be deathly worried.

The thought of him battling those undead monsters makes my skin crawl.

Malkham regards me with an impassive expression. “Understood. I trust you’ve dealt with the situation appropriately, milady. If the boys are still eager to see action after all that, we’ll try our best to handle them gently.”

“Much appreciated, Malkham.”

The guard nods stiffly.

His attention snaps to the left, and I see a man striding down the hallway, his knee-high boots ringing on the smooth stone floor. He’s dressed in the uniform of Corvan’s soldiers—trousers of deep grey, a black coat, red and gold embellishments. His shoulders are decorated with gold-and-black epaulettes bearing three stripes. A golden eagle with outstretched wings is affixed to his left breast.

I recognize him from the other night; from the tournament dinner.

Anna Carven's books