Page 27 of Vampire Runner

1865

Ashe

The forest surrounding Willow Creek was a tapestry of darkness. The shadows were deep and the moon was a silver coin high above, casting a soft, pale light over the leaves and grass. The trees were thick, towering giants that cast their own shadows, and the ground was soft with moss and ferns.

The silence was absolute, and I inhaled the earthy scents, relishing in the coolness of the air. Nights like this, with the full moon rising and the stars winking, reminded me of my human years. Of the nights I would sneak from the stables and lie in the field, staring up at the sky and dreaming of adventure.

Cassandra had fled from me a week ago, her eyes wide with shock even as her cheeks were flushed from pleasure. According to Rhys and Malachi, I’ve been in a “mood” since. They both have an opinion on what I should do to fix the issue. Rhys thinks I need to send her chocolates from the city and letters full of heartfelt prose. Malachi, on the other hand, thinks I should toss her over my shoulder and take her to bed.

I know my little witch, though. If I chase her, she won’t run. She’ll raise her defenses, and not just emotional ones. Cassandra will have no issue using her magic to keep me away.

So I’ve waited, as painful as it’s been. The taste of her pleasure is my addiction, more than any high I get from racing stallions along the edge of cliffs or guiding a raft down rapids. I crave her, not just her blood or her body. I crave her in my arms. I long for her soft laughter. I’m desperate to feel the weight of her head on my shoulder, the warmth of her fingers entwined in mine.

Even if she won’t like it, I’ve made sure to keep watch—my instincts allowing no less. I’ve kept my distance from her cottage at night, staying high in the trees instead as a silent guardian.

Ambrose had noticed the strange man that Cassandra had. Ambrose had Malachi follow the man after he left the wedding celebration. Malachi had returned, reporting nothing suspicious. Ambrose was still concerned, though, and I didn’t disagree.

Something about the man’s scent had been wrong—off. I hadn’t wanted to worry Cassandra that night, and if I’m honest, I was thinking more about stealing my beautiful mate away for kisses than any potential danger. Something that could have ended in disaster. Something I won’t let happen again.

I circle the village twice before allowing my feet to take me to Cassandra’s cottage. Rather than climb the tree that’s become my self-imposed post, I lean against it. The night air has a bite of chill to it, the early whispers of changing seasons. It doesn’t matter, though. A blizzard could storm around me and I wouldn’t abandon Cassandra.

The windows on either side of the door glow behind the curtains with warm yellow light. A beacon of sanctuary amidst the dark of the night.

She’s alone, and has been each night. I have to believe she feels the same pull towards me as I do her.

I lose myself in thought, my eyes wandering the darkness as the nocturnal creatures begin their night. I’m not sure how much time has passed when the cottage door opens. I push off the tree, standing upright, my sharp eyesight drinking in Cassandra’s silhouetted face.

“I can feel you brooding and I’m tired of it,” Cassandra calls, her voice a sultry rasp.

I smirk, prowling towards her. “Is that so?” I tease, stopping just outside her wards. I know my brothers would advise me to not reveal how eager I am to have her attention once more. Fuck them, though. When they’ve found their mates, they’ll understand the futility of that.

Cassandra crosses her arms and stares. The breeze captures her scent and wraps it around me, both a torture and delight. Her black hair is loose and wild, and her eyes gleam in the moonlight. Cassandra wears a simple gown, her curves soft and tempting in the light spilling from the doorway.

“Come inside,” she orders and turns, her skirts swishing around her ankles as she disappears into the cottage.

I cross her wards, the faint sting of magic passing over my skin. Cassandra leaves the door open and I enter, closing the door behind me. The wards settle with a snap, and I glance around, taking in the familiar one room cottage with relish.

Cassandra is at the hearth, the flames already crackling. A kettle hangs on a hook, and the scent of an herbal tea fills the cottage. My witch glances over her shoulder at me, her lips curving in a smirk.

“Tea?” she offers.

I prowl towards her, and Cassandra stands, turning to face me. She raises her hand, stopping me with the gentle touch of her fingertips.

“We need to talk,” she says, and I swallow the urge to gather her into my arms. Cassandra searches my eyes, her hand rising to cup my jaw.

“Of course.” I cover her hand with mine, turning my face to press a kiss into her palm.

“Sit,” she orders, gesturing with her other hand. Cassandra slips past me, grabbing a kettle and pouring the boiling water into a clay teapot.

I obey, taking the same bench I sat on a week ago. The table is cleared of the herbs she’d been drying, the bundles and baskets stored away.

Cassandra joins me, her skirts swirling as she takes the other bench. She sets a wooden tray down and two cups, pouring tea for us both.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” I begin when she seems reluctant to speak. Cassandra meets my eyes, her expression calm.

“I have,” she admits, taking a sip of tea. The firelight casts shadows and highlights across her face, her eyes gleaming. “I needed time to think.”

I nod, mirroring her and taking a sip. The tea is floral, and Cassandra smiles when I wrinkle my nose.

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