Page 5 of Blood Vows
My darkness shifted restlessly beneath my skin, curling with want,with memory.It remembered her warmth. The pulse of her throat beneath my touch. The quiet bravery that infuriated and enthralled me in equal measure. It whispered‘mine’, again and again, until the word became a hum that filled the hollow spaces inside me.
I gripped the edge of the doorframe, the old wood splintering slightly beneath my fingers. The restraint it took not to step forward and reach for her was maddening. I could feel every instinct in me straining to close the distance, to test if her skin was as soft as I remembered, if her scent would undo me all over again.
She bent slightly, peering into another drawer, and the movement pulled at something sharp and human inside me. Desire? or maybe Regret? The two had become so entwined that I could no longer tell them apart.
When she straightened, she stilled for a moment, as if sensing the air had shifted. My shadows recoiled before her gaze could find them, but it was too late. I saw the shiver travel down her spine, heard her breath catch.
It was the smallest sound she made, barely a whisper, but it was enough to break me.
I took one step forward, just enough for the floorboard to creak.
Her head snapped up.
And in that instant, her wide blue eyes…
Found mine.
3
SILENTLY STALKED
VANESSA
Stepping out into the hallway, I held my breath, feeling instantly like I was doing something wrong. And considering he had suggested I stay in the bedroom, I guessed that I was. But with my headache thundering against my skull, I refused to spend the night gripping my temple in agony and letting sleep evade me.
Being in this place, navigating the hallways in the dark, felt like stepping into the pages of some gothic novel. I half expected to see ancient family portraits glaring down from the walls. Or the ghost of a crazed wife pacing in the tower I could see glimpses of through the windows. The pale stone bathed in moonlight breaking free of the clouds.
Every creak of the old manor whispered untold secrets, and each shadow seemed to watch me as I passed. My bare feet made soft sounds against the cold stone floors, and I cursed myself for not finding socks. The chill bit at my skin, sharp enough that I longed for the warmth of the thick carpets that lined the lower levels.
Last time, he had guided me through these corridors, his large hand steady at my elbow, his quiet voice a low murmur in the dark. Without him beside me, the space felt wider, emptier, lonelier.
It was strange, even unsettling, how part of me missed his presence. Maybe it was just the remnants of adrenaline from when he’d saved me, or maybe it was something far more dangerous. There was something about him I couldn’t quite name, something broken and untouchable. He felt like a tortured soul, the kind people wrote tragic stories about. The kind that made you ache even when you knew you shouldn’t. I told myself I wasn’t foolish enough to believe he was the good guy here, but still, I couldn’t help questioning his motives.
As I made my way down to the lower levels, I tried my best to retrace my steps, staying far away from the wing he’d warned me not to enter. Yet curiosity clawed at me. I paused at the crossroads where the hall split, wondering what he didn’t want me to find.
Wasn’t there always a dark family secret in stories like this? A hidden sin, a locked door, a truth better left uncovered. After all, I had quite literally found myself in a vampire novel. And despite how Stacey and Tal had both separately teased me about my love of ‘Vampire porn’ as they had named it, I couldn’t help thinking how familiar it all felt. The atmosphere, the danger, the sense that I’d stumbled into something that wasn’t meant for me.
There was always a love interest in those stories, wasn’t there? Someone capable of changing the monster, of showing him his lost humanity. I had to wonder if that’s what Tal and Victor’s brother Vasileios needed.
The thought made me shiver. Right along with the name I now knew. A name that echoed through my mind, ancient and weighted with hidden meaning. I wondered about the storybehind it, asking myself what kind of man carried a name like that.
I also wondered how he would feel if he found me wandering his home so soon after he’d warned me to stay in my room. The staircase loomed in front of me, and I could only imagine his face if he found me here, broken and twisted at the bottom of it after falling to my death. His perfect plan for vengeance was destroyed by my own clumsiness. The thought almost made me smile.
Almost.
I was at least smart enough to hold onto the thick wooden banister so this didn’t happen. Now, as for making it to my destination without being caught, that was left as an unknown. Would I get his anger or his calm frustration? Well, I hoped I wouldn’t find out, as I reached the lower level at last and found my way into the kitchen.
Moonlight poured through the high, arched windows, painting silver lines across the stone floor and sparing me from total darkness. I hesitated at the threshold, half expecting to see him there already, standing there, dominating the shadows with his own.
When I saw only the faint shimmer of light and the silent gleam of metal from the hanging pots, I let out a quiet laugh. One dark and uneasy. The kind of laugh that didn’t sound like it belonged to me.
Because the longer I stood there, the more the silence began to change. It wasn’t empty anymore. There was something in it, something that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
At first, I told myself it was nothing. Old houses creaked, the wind sighed through the cracks, and imagination had a way of twisting shadows into shapes that didn’t exist. But this felt different. The air itself seemed to shift, pressing closer, denser, as if the house was responding to me.
My fingers tightened around the edge of the counter. I could hear the faint hum of the refrigerator somewhere behind me, the soft ticking of an unseen clock. Beyond that, nothing. No footsteps. No voices. Just…watching.
It was the same feeling I’d had before, when he had been near without ever touching me. That sense of being pinned in place by an unseen gaze.
