Page 4 of Elegy of Twilight
“Name it. I work closely with the priestesses and the Knights of Veilix, the hunters. If I explain your request and your promise, we can come to a solution.”
A barking laugh exploded out of his mouth. When he looked at me, his azure eyes were dark blue like the night, and his mouth set in a grim line. “If only, my dear Lucia, it were that easy.”
My heart thrilled at the sound of my name on his lips. But I ignored the sensation.
“It can be that easy,” I protested, my words trailing off as he fixed me with those transcendent eyes.
Standing, he held out his hand. I reluctantly placed mine in his, an unsaid question hovering onmy lips. He tugged me to my feet but did not let go, reminding me how fully I was in his power. I had no recourse but to bend to his will.
“Tonight of all nights, I expected to be tricked and trapped and lied to. But I did not expect an honest priestess whose runes shine like the moon and make me want to be a better person. You’re young, innocent, and sheltered from the world behind the walls of your abbey. It makes me want you all the more.”
My heart quailed, but my stomach fluttered as he drew me into the circle of his arms.
“We can make a deal,” I said because it was the only thing I could think to say that might save me from the terrible fate he had in store for me.
His fingertips danced up my spine, stroked my neck, traced my runes, and my body betrayed me because it felt exquisite. It wasn’t supposed to feel good, the touch of my sworn enemy, the depths of his eyes like a bottomless pool. I felt a tug on my soul as though I were being pulled in, falling into a place I wasn’t meant to go.
Backing me against the wall, he lowered his head, inch by inch, until his lips hovered over mine. “I don’t ask for forgiveness. Hate me if you must, butgive me this one kiss, and then I will take you home.”
Home.The word broke through me like a beacon of hope. I opened my mouth to respond, just as he crushed his lips against mine. He was warm and rough and yet tasted like sweet wine, heady and intoxicating. I succumbed as his teeth raked against my lower lip, nipping, but not hard enough to draw blood.
Despite everything he was doing, the worst realization came as I found myself feverishly kissing him back. This nameless man, this vampire king, somehow he’d broken through my defenses and seduced me. My hands, which had initially come up to push him away, were holding onto him, keeping him tethered to me.
I felt his shuddering breath when he wrenched himself free from me.
Without speaking a word, he took my hand and led me into darkness.
I trotted along, sometimes beside him, sometimes behind him, but he never let go of my hand. The roar of the waterfall ebbed and flowed, but all I could think about was his mouth and how disgraceful it was to kiss him. Not simply because ofmy vows but because he was the source of pain and frustration and death in Veilix.
At last we emerged from the caverns onto a familiar strip of land. The man guided me with ease to the walls of the abbey. “Here is where I leave you, my moon goddess,” he whispered, finally letting go of my hand. “If I find you in that glade again, you leave me with no recourse but to punish you.”
I shivered. “Will you leave the village in peace then?”
“I make no promises.”
I took a step toward the abbey, then glanced back, searching for a last visage of him. But he’d faded into the darkness as though he was nothing more than a figment of my imagination.
2
TITUS
Pipe smoke drifted to my nose as I snuck into the ancient ruins of Aycuz.
The mountainous range had once belonged to a race of giants the people mistakenly called gods. They were long dead and gone, but zealous humans had taken over the lush mountain range. They built abbeys and garrisons, cultivated the land, and produced the tastiest vegetables and the richest wines.
Their wealth and success enticed many to make their homes there, but the mortals had forgotten what overcame the giants and drove them to their deaths. They forgot what lurked in the mountains, hidden under shadow and stone. The undying.
I licked my lips, still tasting the priestess Lucia. She was forbidden, off limits, and I’d kissed her anyway before taking her back to the abbey. She’d be safer there and, with luck, she wouldn’t venture out of the walls at night again.
“That you Titus?” a lazy voice rang out.
I rounded the corner, taking in the flickering torches and smoke-filled cavern. Waving my arms, I walked through the haze. “Sylvester, are you painting again?”
“What else would I be doing, little brother?” Sylvester said impatiently.
I stepped out from his barrier of torches and took in the immense wall. He was perched on a ledge, a bucket of paint beside him, along with a series of brushes, a bottle of wine, two glasses, matches, and tobacco.
“You’re drunk painting again,” I accused him.
