Page 82 of Vow of the Undead
Light from the candles on the walls softly shimmered over the blanket draped across my chest. Stasia silently fluttered between the benches, stooping over my mother with a bowl in her hands.
If my mother reached for the bowl, I was only vaguely aware of it.
Perhaps it was a dream, or a chaotic vision granted by Loki himself. The swimming, blurred sight of everything suggested a dream that I didn’t have the strength to wake from.
I opened my mouth to ask if she was doing better, but my voice came out weak and they were too far to hear me. Soft rain dripped into the windows, rhythmic and lulling me back into the darkness behind my eyelids.
Pressure coated me, like a body laying over mine. This feeling and the dream immediately transported me to when I’d first faced Kayn after our escape.
I expected to experience it again in this swimming illusion. To feel his breath on my neck, the crunch of leaves beneath my spine, but when I looked up, it was the king’s eyes that met mine. His icy stare sent a shudder through my core and I found my gaze falling to his mouth as he whispered gently.How long I’ve waited to call you my wife.
I arched my back, the soft bed sinking beneath my spine as his lips brushed against my throat. He kissed along the curve of my neck, slowly working his way to my mouth.
His teeth hovered over my bottom lip, tugging with a careful bite as a moan escaped me. His finger traced my neckbefore he enclosed his entire hand around my throat. Though his grip tightened and I could barely draw in breath with another gasp, my stomach burned hot with desire and I shifted to spread my legs.
My entire body warmed with the heat between us coating the air, our wanting thick and desperate until he suddenly drew back and the fingers that’d been holding my throat were covered in blood as red as his eyes.
He smirked and told me he’d enjoyed killing and eating those whose blood he painted his hands with.There’s freedom in devouring those who follow you. Let’s enjoy them together.
This was no dream, this was a cursed nightmare. The Mare was the spirit of a woman who could shift into a horse and slip into the quiet consciousness of the sleeping. She preyed on us in our most vulnerable moment.
Not even sleep was always safe.
The nightmarish king’s words echoed again.Devour them…
I woke to sickness souring my gut. I doubled forward, spewing the contents of the stew. My ears pulsed with blood and energy, muffling the sound of my retching until I could no longer hear it. Silence pressed in around me, the only sound a faint knocking—no, footsteps.
I didn’t breathe so I could listen for the heavy rhythmic thumps again.
Though the thudding grew quieter, I managed to identify the weight and sound of the steps as clopping. Hoofbeats.
I bolted upright, my back aching and head pounding. The world filled in around me as the nightmare of King Drakkar’s words slipped away. My mother often spoke of The Mare, blaming her for the nightmares I’d had often since the day the Grimward pounded on our door the first time, ten years before they returned for my mother.
This was the first time I’d heard evidence of The Mare’s hooves.
The rain had stopped, but puddles still pooled in scatteredsections across the temple’s stone floor. The stained-glass window in the wall above me shook as a gust of wind slammed against it. Flickering candles with flame as bright as Stasia’s hair danced across the stone walls, and I tried to slow my choking breaths by counting every crack in the stone.
When a shadow cast over me, I drew my eyes up. Stasia hurried to me, cup in hand. “Take it in gulps,” she said. “You look dreadful.” I shot her a sharp look as I raised the cup to my lips and tipped. “What? It is your mother who says so.”
I nearly choked on the honeyed stew. She’d made another batch, though it had far too much sweetness. Kayn would have retched.
“She’s awake…” my voice trailed off as my gaze landed on the bench at the other end of the Hall of the Gods. It hadn’t been a cruel trick of the mind.
My mother lay still for several long moments, until finally, she rolled her head to look at me. She lifted her frail hand for a weak but warm greeting.
“She is awake and stronger than ever. But it will not last, so I swore to go out in search of Henbane and Hawthorn root as soon as you were well enough for me to leave.”
“The plants don’t grow during the Polar Nocturne.”
“Not in Skaldir maybe, but here, herbs last well into the darkness.” Stasia pointed at the bowl and then folded her arms as if waiting for me to consume it all right now.
“What about the vampire? Why can’t she draw out the toxins?” I asked, ignoring the too-sweet brew.
“After your compulsion faded, she vanished.”
“Kayn didn’t stop her?”
“She overpowered him.”
