Page 10 of The Vampire's Bride

She nods.

Cautiously, I extend my wings from my back and fold them around her smaller form. “Is that better?”

Juliet sighs and presses her face against my neck as she whispers. “Thank you, Lord Greyvale.”

“To you, I am Valaric.”

“Valaric,” she says. “Call me Juliet.”

“Juliet,” I repeat solemnly.

She rests a delicate hand on my chest and her small brow furrows. “You have a heartbeat,” she murmurs drowsily.

It seems she believes the rumors many have about my kind. They refer to us as the living dead, but nothing could be further from the truth. We are not dead, we simply live so long the other races believe we are immortal. A myth my people encourage that has been repeated so many times that no one questions it anymore. “Yes.”

I glance down at her other hand on my chest, noticing the broken chain of her necklace peeking out from the side of her closed fist. It’s obviously very important to her. I will make sure to repair it as soon as possible.

Unable to fight her exhaustion, she closes her eyes and rests her head on my collarbone. Her warm breath whispers across my neck, and I listen as the sounds of her breathing become soft and even as she slips away into a deep sleep.

I am a Vampire—considered by many to be nothing more than a bloodthirsty monster. And yet, she rests so trustingly in my arms that it nearly breaks me.

Her grip loosens on her necklace, and I carefully lift it from her palm to pocket it in my tunic so it won’t become lost.

Tenderly, I brush a silken lock of hair behind her ear. She does not realize it yet, but she has already captivated me entirely.

As I study her delicate features, it occurs to me that my heart has been beating for all these years, but until now, I had not known for whom it beat.

CHAPTER 4

JULIET

When I wake, I’m in an unfamiliar room. Floating orbs of golden light are suspended throughout the space. They provide just enough illumination that I’m able to make out my surroundings.

The haze of sleep clings to me like a thick fog. I’m lying on a large four-poster bed covered in thick fur blankets, with heavy green drapes tied to each post. A row of floor to ceiling windows lines the far wall, covered with thick, green velvet curtains. To the left is a massive fireplace, a fire burning in the hearth.

This must be Valaric’s home.

I try to push myself up, but I feel too weak. He said I’d be tired and need to rest as my body heals. He wasn’t lying. It feels as though I’m weighted down by a bone-deep fatigue.

A low and guttural roar echoes through the walls, and I jerk up to sitting, my heart pounding. A wave of dizziness washes over me and I fall back on the bed.

Closing my eyes, I hold my breath, straining to listen. Maybe it’s nothing. Perhaps I’m dreaming.

A deep, rolling growl cuts through the silence. It’s distant, muted, but unmistakable. Like something ancient and monstrous raging in the depths of the seven hells.

I place my hand over my chest. My heart races beneath my palm, but something else rises inside me. An emotion, no—aforce.

It's wild, visceral, consuming. It tears at the edges of my mind, burning in my veins. It’s an unrelenting pull—a primal desperation to reach something or someone that I cannot name or reach.

Another roar reverberates through the walls, amplifying the foreign emotions swirling in my chest and clawing at my mind. I feel as if I’m drowning in someone else’s despair, their anguish bleeding into me.

I don’t know where it’s coming from, but I know with certainty it’s not mine.

My pulse thunders in my ears as I listen for the sound again, half-expecting a monster to burst through the door. Every instinct tells me to get up and run, but my muscles refuse to obey. Panic rises in my throat, but I force it down, my breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.

My mind grasps for explanations, but I’m too drained to trust my senses or to think clearly.

This must be a dream.

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