Page 27 of Blood Vows
By the time the clock struck two, I had changed twice, debated three times, and eventually settled on something that felt…safe. A simple black knitted sweater that fell slightly off one shoulder with a pair of dark grey leggings. The kind that fit me like a glove and paired well with the new boots Vas had told me to wear. They were surprisingly comfortable, soft leather that hugged my legs halfway up my calves.
I had left my hair down, the loose waves brushing over my shoulders, and for reasons I couldn’t quite admit to myself, I found I wanted to look nice. Not perfect, not alluring, just… less like a captive and more like someone who might actually belong in this strange, beautiful house.
As for my bruises, like last night, there was no getting away from them. The cuts on my cheek and hairline were no longer in need of a band-aid, as they had scabbed, looking less angry.
The knock on the door came right on time, making my heart thunder in my chest at the sound. But not as much as when I opened it and found him there.
Vas stood in the doorway dressed all in black again, though not the formal kind that spoke of dinner and candlelight. Thiswas something else, something simpler, more dangerous. A black t-shirt that clung to his muscles in a way that drew my eyes and held them captive. Damn, but every single muscle was right there just beneath the whisper of cotton that did a shit job of hiding them. If anything, the material only served as a way to tease me. Just like the dark denim jeans molded around his strong, muscular thighs.
Jesus, but had he always been so damn tall!
I even found myself getting turned on by the sight of his big, thick boots, and I didn’t even want to get started on his sexy jacket or the way it clung to his broad shoulders. The way the thick black fabric fell past his knees looked tailored to perfection. It moved with him when he walked, whispering over his frame, every measured step a reminder of how effortlessly he filled the space around him. I hated that I found it captivating, how something so simple could make my pulse quicken.
His hair was tied back as it usually was, and not for the first time, I wondered how long it was when not confined to that effortless man bun. The silver mask caught the light, and for a moment, I thought he looked more human than I had ever seen him.
His eyes swept over me once, briefly, but the flicker of approval there was unmistakable.
“You’ll need your jacket,” he said, his voice low, even. My brows lifted slightly.
“So we are going outside?”That earned me something rare, an actual grin.
“Very perceptive,” he teased lightly, crossing the room before I could move. He reached for the Parker-style jacket out of the wardrobe, alerting me to the fact that the boots hadn’t been the only new addition. It was black, like his was and was lined with a soft faux fur. He held it open for me, an unexpected gesture that felt far too intimate for what we were supposed to be.
I hesitated for a second before stepping closer, sliding my arms into the sleeves as he held it open for me. His fingers brushed my shoulders as he adjusted it, the briefest touch of warm skin against my bare neck causing my breath to hitch before I could stop it.
When he stepped back, I was certain he’d felt it too.
“Better,” he muttered quietly, his voice rougher than before.
“Come.” This gentle command came whilst he held out an arm towards the door, so that he could lead me through the house.
As soon as we made it to the entrance hall, I couldn’t help but notice the sunlight from the high windows cutting long bars of gold across the stone floor. The heavy front doors opened with a deep groan, and for the first time since arriving, I stepped out into the world beyond the manor.
The air was cool and crisp, and the scent of damp earth and distant pine filled my lungs. The grounds stretched endlessly around us, rolling green lawns edged by ancient oaks and a stone wall that seemed to guard the estate from the world beyond. It was breathtaking, in that gothic, untamed kind of way.
He glanced sideways at me as we walked down the gravel path.
“I thought you might like to see the grounds, you’ve been locked inside long enough.” He said, his tone almost half apology, half invitation. A sentiment that made my chest tighten.
“You were right. It’s beautiful.” I smiled faintly, looking around.
“Once it was,” he murmured, and I looked at him, but his gaze was somewhere distant, on a memory I couldn’t see. I was about to ask what he meant when a mischievous thought broke through the heaviness between us.
“So… this isn’t like one of those mafia movies, is it?” I said, feigning seriousness.
“Excuse me?” he asked in surprise.
“You know, where the assassin takes the poor victim out to the countryside and makes them dig their own grave? Because if it is, I think the boots were a little much.” For a second, there was nothing, then the sound I least expected filled the air.
He laughed.
It wasn’t the sharp, mocking sound I’d imagined it might be. It was deep, warm and genuine this time. And the moment it escaped him, he looked as startled as I felt. His eyes met mine, wide for a fraction of a second before soft amusement took over. I couldn’t help it. I started laughing too.
The sound of it felt strange in this place, like something pure and alive had slipped into the cracks of the dark. For the first time since meeting him, the space between us didn’t feel like a battlefield. No, it felt like a breath of something almost normal.
When the laughter faded, he was still looking at me, and there was something softer in his expression now. Something I couldn’t name.
“Remind me, never to underestimate your imagination, little rabbit,” he said, his lips curving faintly.
