Page 20 of Blood and Thorns

Laying my scrolls and tunic on a nearby chair, I do a quick circuit of the main chamber. Everything is luxurious in a foreboding way, like a splendid palace in a nightmare. But it’s undeniably an upgrade from the smaller suite Vaelorian assigned me initially.

A discreet cough sounds from the doorway, and I startle, nearly knocking into the desk.

“Forgive me,” a voice says, low and male. “I didn’t realize you’d arrived.”

My heart jolts until I recognize Vaelorian, standing in the open doorway with the faintest hint of amusement in his black eyes. He’s wearing a fitted coat of charcoal leather, his wings partially furled behind him. Even in the subdued afternoon light, he commands the space with a casual grace that unsettles me.

I straighten, brushing my hair behind my ears. “I only just got here.”

He glances around the room, taking in the sight of me in my disheveled state, arms full of scrolls. He steps fully inside, lettingthe door click shut behind him. The hush in the room magnifies my awareness of him—of the way he moves, each step silent and purposeful.

“You said you prefer privacy,” he says. “My mother’s house can be... stifling, even at the best of times. I thought you might work better with some space of your own.”

I place the scrolls carefully on the writing desk. “This is... a lot,” I admit, gesturing at the lavish bed and thick tapestries. “I’m not used to it.”

A faint shrug lifts his shoulders. “You’re not just a thrall, Valeria. We’ve established that. Think of this as a reflection of your new status.”

My heartbeat quickens. “New status?”

His gaze locks on mine, and something tense flickers in the air between us. “You’re my operative. That comes with certain privileges.”

I can’t help the wry scoff that escapes my lips. “Privileges, including the possibility that if I fail, you’ll toss me aside or feed on me?”

His expression doesn’t soften at the jab. “We both know the risks. But I’d prefer you succeed.”

There’s an undercurrent in his tone that sends a shiver along my spine. I sense that he’s not saying everything—there’s a swirl of intensity behind those obsidian eyes, as though something is at war beneath his cold facade. It stirs an unwanted pang of curiosity.

I lower my gaze to the intricate rug, trying to suppress my swirling thoughts.Romance is a luxury I can’t afford.This arrangement is about survival, about power. Let the dark elves coo over illusions of love; I’m not naive enough to believe Vaelorian is offering me anything like that.

Still, I can’t deny the slight flutter in my chest whenever I notice the subtle arch of his cheekbones, the whisper of his wings shifting, or the quiet lull of his voice.

He clears his throat. “I came to see how you’re settling. Helrath told me you managed to survive another round of drills without any broken bones.”

I huff. “He’s rough, but I’m learning quickly.”

“You’ll need every edge you can get. The dark elf courts are not kind to the unprepared.”

I nod, swallowing the anxiety that edges up my throat. “I know. I lived among them for years, remember?”

He steps closer, wings rustling. The proximity sets my nerves on high alert. I hold my ground, refusing to shrink back as he halts a mere arm’s length away. The tension is palpable, a crackle in the space between us.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he warns, voice low. “I’m giving you this suite so you have the tools you need—privacy, resources, better access to the library. But House Draeven remains lethal, no matter how many velvet curtains or plush rugs we hang.”

My mouth goes dry. “I appreciate the reminder.”

A faint smile tugs at his pale lips. “You wouldn’t have come this far if you needed coddling.”

For a fleeting moment, I swear there’s respect in his gaze—maybe even admiration. It sends a thrill through me that I quickly bury.Focus on survival.

He shifts to the side, glancing at the empty bookshelves. “I assumed you’d want space for more texts. Our library is extensive, and you’re free to request specific volumes. If you uncover any detail that can help you navigate dark elf society, seize it.”

I recall the swirl of conflicting feelings I had when I first stepped into the library. It thrilled me in a way I didn’t expect, to see knowledge laid out so plainly. If Vaelorian allows me tobuild my own reference collection here, I can study every nuance of the dark elves’ etiquette, their underhanded magic, their alliances. It might give me an edge.

“That would help,” I admit softly, letting my guard drop a fraction. “I’m no scholar, but the more I learn, the better prepared I’ll be.”

He dips his chin. “Exactly. Preparation is everything. Speaking of which...”

He reaches into a small pouch at his belt and withdraws a single key, wrought from dark metal with an ornate swirl at the handle. He holds it out. “Lock your door when you want. Even though you’re under my protection, I’d rather not risk any ambitious subordinate deciding to test you.”

---