Page 57 of Blood Vows
High… piercing and the kind that echoed through the corridors like the cry of something half-alive, half-damned.
Naturally, I froze. The decanter on the nearby table trembled with the force of it, the echo stretching into the distance until it faded into a silence that seemed louder than the noise itself.
Vas was instantly on high alert. His movements were sharp, predatory, the firelight flashing off his bare chest as he turned toward the door.
“Stay here,” he ordered, the commanding tone no doubt hoping that his order left no room for argument. But this was me we were talking about, so of course I tried anyway.
“Wait… what was that? Vas, who…?” I started to say, but he was quick to interrupt me,
“I said stay!” His voice cracked through the air, low but powerful enough to still my breath. The moment he caught the way I recoiled, his voice changed. Softening, even though it didn’t match the fury still etched across his face, a storm he barely kept contained.
“I’ll handle it.” He said as he moved toward the door, but something in me snapped. I stood, clutching the throw tighter around me.
“But you can’t just leave me here alone! Not after I just heard that scream… I need to know who it was!” I argued just as he reached the door. He stopped dead in his tracks, his shoulders tightening. For a heartbeat, I thought he might turn back and tell me. But instead, he exhaled heavily, the sound thick with restraint.
“There’s no time,” he said at last, his voice quieter now but edged in urgency. But before I could protest again, he was suddenly there, crossing the space between us in the blink of an eye. His hand came to my waist, the other slipping beneath my knees, and before I knew it, I was in his arms.
“Vas! Put me down, I can walk!”
“Not fast enough,” he claimed with a grit of his teeth. Yet before I had time to argue, my world blurred as he carried me out of the library with haste. Meaning we were soon crossing the hallway, the storm outside pelting rain against the tall, arched windows. His steps were swift, purposeful. The cold stone of the manor floor echoed beneath his bare feet, the sound of another scream leading us down the corridor.
I clutched at his shoulders, trying to read his face, but his jaw was set in grim determination.
“You’re not listening to me… Tell me what’s going on. Who screamed Vas?” I pressed again. His jaw tensed but he didn’t answer. His silence was more terrifying than any truth.
“Vas!” His eyes finally cut to mine for a fraction of a second, blazing with warning.
“Enough, Nessa.” Something dark in his tone silenced me, not because I was afraid, but because I sensed that…he was.
We reached my room before long, and he paused only long enough to kick the door open with his bare foot. Then he strodeinside, heading straight for the bed, clearly intent on tossing me onto it. Only this didn’t happen, as I half expected him to dump me in here and run. Instead, he lowered me gently onto the sheets, his large hands firm but careful as if afraid I might break.
“Stay here,” he repeated, his voice quieter now but no less commanding.
“No matter what you hear.” I reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could move away.
“You’re scaring me… please… just tell me what’s happening,”I whispered. His gaze softened, a flicker of conflict passing through the darkness in his eyes. Then, without answering, he pried my fingers gently from his wrist.
“Lock the door behind me,” he said instead, his tone low and final.
And before I could say another word, he was gone.
The door closed with a hollow sound that echoed through the room.
Outside, the downpour continued, and despite the easing of the storm, I was still left clutching the sheets, staring into the silence that followed, my mind spinning with everything left unsaid.
Who had screamed?
The silence after he left was unbearable.
It filled every corner of the room, pressing down on me until even the sound of my own heartbeat felt too loud. I raced to the door and did as he asked, locking it. After which I found myself pacing barefoot across the soft rug, the low lights from the lamps not bright enough to comfort me.
Every creak of the house, every gust of wind outside that rattled the windows, made me flinch and glance toward the door, half expecting him to return, half terrified that he wouldn’t.
The storm had moved further away now, its growl a distant rumble that seemed to echo through the hollow bones of the manor. Somewhere beneath it, I thought I heard movement, the faint sound of voices carried along the corridor and faded before I could make sense of them.
What was happening out there?
I tried to reason with myself, but the memory of that shrill, piercing sound would not leave me. It had been full of terror, but there was something else too.
