Page 44 of A Promise of Blood & Thorns
I blink. “I, uh. . . don’t think they know how often humans eat honestly.” A frown tugs at my lips. “Who the hell are you?”
“A question I’m not ready to answer yet, beloved,” he purrs. I can feel him shift within the shadows, but I can’t actually see him. I turn, following his path, and he chuckles.
“Why have you brought me here?” I demand, angry that he would dare laugh at me. “Why do this?”
He stops, a dark chuckle echoing around me. “Oh, beloved. I didn’t bring you here.” The flames closest to him flicker. “It is you who brought me here.” I catch sight of a single strip of fabric as it catches the light, green. “See you soon, Crymson.”
The flames all blaze so suddenly, I stumble back with a shriek and begin to fall. . .
/-/-/-/
I come to violently, my arms flailing to catch myself, but instead of charred ground, my hands sink into the soft, silken sheets of Christian’s bed. The black cat that had apparently been sitting curled up on the bed beside me yowls and leaps away, avoiding my flailing hands. My chest rises and falls with my panic until the room slowly comes back into focus, until I realize that the scent of smoke lingering in my nose isn’t from this room. Strange that I can still smell it.
Strange that there’s a smudge of ash on the back of my hand.
The black cat slinks closer again and presses its head against my elbow.
I sigh and stroke him under the chin. “I’m fine. Just. . . a nightmare.”
Was it a nightmare? Was it real? Glancing around the room, I don’t see Seven. So then what was that?
Fatigue hovers on the edge of my consciousness. I’m tired despite sleeping for however long, but I’m still coherent. My stomach grumbles but I press my hand to it and ignore it. It hardly matters if I’m going to die soon anyways. Might as well die hungry.
The cat moves along the bed and shifts between one blink and the next. The bed dips with Rorrick’s weight as he settles on the edge of the mattress and studies me.
“You get those often?” he asks, his voice gentle.
“What? Nightmares?” I tilt my head. “Yeah. They’re not uncommon.”
In fact, I’d say the nightmares outweigh the good dreams, but I hardly want to announce that sad fact.
He hums under his breath, his eyes tracing my face. Of the three men, Rorrick has a sweetness about him I would have never expected of a vampire. Unlike Christian’s coldness, Rorrick is warm and solid, like the heat from a forge. From the way care shines in his eyes to the careful space he gives me, this is a man I could fall for.
Not that I’ll be allowed to fall for any of them.
It’s probably foolish of me, but considering I’ll be dying in a few days, it hardly matters. I know it’s likely the high stress situation, or the fact that the three of them have shown me more care in the last couple of days than I’ve ever been shown in my life. I understand they likely can’t save me, and I certainly don’t know if I can save myself, but. . . I want these little breaks from reality they’ve given me. Even now, the places they’d bitten me throb with awareness.
“Can I ask you a question?” I murmur.
Rorrick nods. “Go ahead.”
“Why do you stay?” I gesture to the room, but he understands I mean the castle. “The three of you. If it’s so bad, why stay?”
“I stay because Christian stays,” Rorrick answers truthfully.
“And why does he stay?”
He shrugs. “That you’ll have to ask the prince himself. But I suspect it has to do with loyalty, just as mine does.”
“And you’ll continue to stay here, living forever, while I become nothing but a bad memory,” I whisper, tugging my knees up and wrapping my arms around them. I lay my chin on my knees, mostly because I need the support, but also because I feel so vulnerable. The poor regal gown wrinkles around my frame. Somehow, I’ve accepted that I’m going to die here. After years of struggle, years of fighting, I’ve allowed myself to embrace the end. I don’t want to, but it’s hard to see a way out of this.
“I wouldn’t say it’s a bad memory,” Rorrick replies, his lips quirking up. “I could think of a few ways to make it better.”
“Yeah?” I ask, smiling even as I don’t move. “You going to kiss me, kitty cat?”
He grins, and those fangs lengthen. “I’ve killed someone for calling me that before.”
“So kill me. Slay me,” I murmur, watching him.
