Page 29 of Born of Blood and Thorns

I tore my gaze away, conflicting feelings bubbling to the surface as I reminded myself that he saw me as his enemy, and I was contemplating killing him. It was complicated.

"So this new development must be a shock," Alastair said. "You seem out of sorts about it—more tense than usual. Are you thinking about her?" Alastair pivoted at the last moment, nearly missing the sword's swing.

"It's…" Lore trailed off breathlessly as he swung again, connecting once with Alastair's sword before he continued, "It's disturbing."

"I don't see how a beautiful woman is disturbing," Alastair said, his brow furrowing in concentration as he anticipated Lore's next strike. They were like two dancers synchronized to each other's moves, something developed from their time together.

"I worry," Lore admitted but said nothing until Alastair lifted a thick dark brow, waiting. "I worry about her safety," Lore said with a huff.

"Why is that?" Alastair asked, knowing full well I was there and saying nothing.

"You know why." Lore turned, his body twisting and lunging in a move that dropped my mouth open. It was like watching perfection—the flawlessly honed warrior in his element fighting as if it were second nature. "I worry she will get hurt."

"By what?" Alastair asked, quieter than before, as if he hadn't expected the conversation to go in that direction and now wanted to shield me from it.

"By me," he said, and though I couldn't see his face, I heard the warble in his voice, the strain of it that held fear in it. "By the curse."

"You think it could be her?" Alastair asked slowly and carefully, his gaze trained on Lore. I knew he watched me in his peripheral vision.

"Anything is possible, but I doubt it." He swung his sword again, and Alastair moved so that Lore could turn his body my way. His eyes landed on me, and he froze momentarily so Alastair could bring his sword dangerously close to Lore's skin. "The curse is to be broken by the one I love. And I don't love her." His cold gaze fixed on me as he said the words as if hoping to hurt me with the statement.

"Not yet," Alastair added. "But there is something there you can't deny." Lore remained quiet, and I wished I could see his expression. It was the revelation that he had someone meant for him, and I was not it.

He had a destined true love like some fairytale. The thought clawed its way up my throat, threatening to choke me. I had no claim over him, yet the idea of Lore belonging to another woman sent jealousy spiking through me like thorns. What if she was out there somewhere, fated to break this curse? Where did that leave me—the inconvenient complication?

I let out a muffled yelp, but the blade stopped mere centimeters from his skin.

All my thoughts were forgotten, all the fears and the questions that arose as the panic lanced through me and my gaze locked with his.

Clearly, neither knew I heard them, again discounting my vampire heritage.

When he turned fully toward me, giving me his chest completely on display, I felt my mind utterly empty as my gaze traveled over every hard plane of his chest. My lips parted. His dark auburn hair fell over his eyebrows, begging to be brushed back. When my eyes finally met Lore's again, he was smirking.

Heat flooded my cheeks as a warmth spread through my body. Goddess, he was glorious. I realized belatedly I was staring. Embarrassment spread through me. "I—I, uh." Words failed me, and my discomfort grew heavier in my chest as I turned to flee.

"Wait!" he called after me. "Do you know how to use a sword?"

I turned slowly, confused by his question. "What?"

"A sword. Do you know how to use it?"

"I know the basics, but I'm sorely out of practice."

Fencing had been important to learn at a young age. My training had not been extensive, and what little I had had only been a few years with the clumsy movements of a child. But my father, when I amused him, insisted I learn in case one of his people decided to make me a snack.

"What are you good at?" Lore stepped forward, his brow lifting as if he doubted my skill.

"I'm fairly good."

Daggers were easy; just stick them with the pointy side. Worked every time. The bow—I'd used that on the rare occasion I could sneak off to hunt on days when I couldn't stomach the pain of hunger any longer. The first moment I'd taken a life, it had broken something inside of me. It had just been a squirrel, but it still pained me to this day to think I'd taken the poor, helpless creature's life to feed myself.

Animals were a gift—even squirrels. I was thankful for its sacrifice that kept me alive. They did taste rather good, even if I ate guiltily.

"I suspect you are also good at using your mouth in a fight as well," Lore commented with a twitch of his lips.

"I beg your pardon?"

Alastair snorted, clearly holding back a laugh. I glared at him.

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