Page 23 of Bitten & Burned
A tear dripped out of my eye as I let go of his wrist. He brought it up to his mouth, close to the wound. “I know, but… I can’t figure out what in the hells this thing is.”
He nodded, stroking my head, pushing my hair from my face. “It might be safer—for now—if you remained at Halemont Manor for the time being. The coven can watch over you there, and we can try to figure this thing out there, without risk of you falling apart out here.”
There was no demand in his voice, only quiet insistence. “Think it over this weekend. Let me know then.”
“It’s temporary?” I asked.
“Of course,” he replied.
“And you’ll check with your covenmates before we make any definitive plans?”
“For you, Rowena, I will do anything.”
“Alright, pending their thoughts, I accept. I’ll stay. Tentatively.”
“Thank you,” he breathed a sigh of relief.
“You’re welcome,” I said softly, laying my head on the crook of his arm. Fig meowed again, this time a bit more urgently than before. I patted my stomach, and he hopped up and promptly started kneading on Vael’s leg, right beside my head.
All was silent for a few moments longer. Well, mostly silent. Fig was purring loudly.
“How much longer before we arrive?”
“Probably about twenty more minutes. I can slow down the carriage so when it goes down the hill to our front door, it won’t jostle you around too much. Might make it a little bit longer, though.”
“That’s fine,” I said, deciding not to be a hero.
As the seconds and minutes ticked by, I let my eyes close.
Four
ALL OR NONE
Kravenspire, Sol, Verdune
4 Ebry, Year 810
When I opened my eyes,it took me a moment to get my bearings. I was in bed. Someplace warm. With a fireplace, but no fire. Fig was here, on the bed with me.
Right. Halemont. We must have arrived.
The memory was fuzzy, but I knew I’d had a flare-up of pain in the carriage, Vael had taken a lot of blood, and I’d fallen asleep before we’d arrived.
I got out of bed and wandered to the door, stepping into the vast hallway.
My legs trembled as I stepped out of Vael’s chambers. I lingered just inside the door, listening.
The manor was quiet, and shadows pressed close to the walls. A single beam of pale light slipped through, cutting across the wall and ceiling in a long, dying line. I followed it with my eyes until I heard voices breaking the hush.
Vael. Anton. Quil. They sounded angry—or at least strained, sharp edges hidden in low tones.
I knew I should stay where I was, wait for Vael to return. But I couldn’t. Something in their voices pulled at me like a thread caught on a nail. I slipped into the hallway, feet soundless on the old stone.
Behind me, Vael’s door stayed cracked open, like an invitation I no longer wanted. Ahead, the voices tangled and echoed off the walls.
Halemont Manor had been built with vampires in mind—Cassian’s land, Cassian’s legacy. To mortal eyes, the layout seemed strange: rooms clustered toward the heart of the house, corridors spiraling inward, staircases that sank deep below ground. Sunlight barely touched these halls, except for the outer chambers with their decorative windows, forever shuttered.
Most of them stayed close to the center during daylight—except Quil. Quil drifted wherever he pleased, vanishing into corners no one else dared to claim. His solitude made sense to the others. In my case, it just…needled at me. I couldn’t say why.
