Page 50 of The Vampire's Bride

I curl my hands around my cup, studying the steaming liquid as I choose my next words very carefully. “When I was newly turned, my hunger was… difficult to control. I did not want to harm any innocents when I sated my thirst. So, I chose my victims very carefully. I would go to the darkest, less savory parts of the cities. I’d watch the area and identify the hunters.”

“Hunters? You mean… people who hunt Vampires and monsters?”

“No. I’m speaking of those who sought to prey upon others. The ones whose intent was to harm another person.” I lean in. “They would stalk their victims, unaware that they were beingwatched in return. And when they decided to act upon their monstrous impulses, I would intercept them before they could.”

Her eyes widen slightly, and I wonder if it is fear or shock, or maybe both upon her face. Whatever it is, I do not like it. I want more than anything for her to see me as a man—as her husband. But I also understand that she must know the monster within. If she cannot accept both sides of me, then she will never break my curse and all will be lost.

“I did not always hunt others,” I offer. “There are many who sell their blood to my kind. Some even offer it freely.”

Juliet looks down at the table, a slight frown creasing her brow. It’s easy to see that my answer bothers her, and I worry she will fear me now that she knows of my past.

“Can you tell me what happened to your wives?” She asks the question I have dreaded most.

I could tell her—show her—where my previous brides are, but I don’t want Juliet to be afraid. Not now when she is just beginning to trust me.

Besides, I cannot tell her of the trial she must pass to break my curse. The witch has bound my tongue in that regard. If Juliet were to learn the truth of the test before I could convince her to love me, the curse would claim her immediately.

Unable to come up with anything better, I give her the only answer I can, hoping it does not strike fear in her heart by imagining the worst. “I cannot speak of it.”

“Of—of course.” I’m surprised at the pity that flits across her expression. I had not expected this reaction, but it is preferable to fear. “I’m sure it must be difficult to talk about. Forgive me.”

Guilt twists deep within as I give her a slight nod. Instead of imagining anything horrible, she feels sorry for me, believing me in a state of grief over their loss. I did mourn the women who came before her, but not as one would mourn a true mate or a lover. We were never that close.

Juliet reaches across the table and rests her hand atop mine, squeezing it gently and offering comfort. My heart clenches. I don’t know what I have done to earn my ashaya’s trust, but I do not deserve it.

“It is all right,” I reassure her. “There is nothing to forgive.”

If she only knew the dark thoughts in my mind right now, she would probably be afraid.

Dark possession uncoils from deep within, demanding that I give in to the temptation to mark her as mine, but I force it back to the shadows. I cannot claim her as my mate in this way.

If I ever did give in to this dark impulse, the witch would detect it. Her kind have a heightened sense of smell, like mine do. Talindra desires nothing more than to see me suffer. If she knew what Juliet meant to me, she would use this knowledge to hurt her.

Besides, I would never lay claim to my bride without her consent, without her knowing what it means. My ashaya did not choose this fate; it was chosen for her. And I will not be the monster that takes yet another choice away from her.

“My grandmother—my father’s mother—used to make a stew similar to this.” Her soft voice pulls me back from my dark thoughts as she changes the subject. “She lived in the country. We used to spend every summer with her when my father was alive.”

Sadness lines her features as she speaks of her family. I’m sure she must miss them terribly. “We would often go on walks, after dinner. There were so many fireflies we didn’t even need a lantern to see the paths.” A wistful smile curves her lips. “I used to imagine they were pixies flitting back and forth among the flowers and hedges.”

“You are fortunate they were not,” I admonish. “Unless you can come to some kind of understanding with their hive queen,pixies can be vicious little things. And their razor-sharp teeth are rather unpleasant.”

“Now that I’m older, I know they are dangerous. But as a child, the idea of them was simply magical.” A faint smile tugs at her mouth. “Once, we traveled close to the border of Anlora—the Fae Kingdom—and I remember staring out the carriage window hoping to catch a glimpse of one.”

“And?” I grin, imagining her doing this. “Did you see any?”

She laughs softly. “Not for lack of trying.”

My bride wants to see pixies, and while it would be rather easy to grant her this wish, I’m not sure this is the right time to do it. Aside from being dangerous, pixies are wild and rather unpredictable creatures. Perhaps another time.

For now, however, I have something a bit more pressing to attend to. “Come.” I offer her my hand and I’m pleased when she slips her palm into mine without hesitation. “I have something I must show you.”

I lead Juliet down the stone spiral staircase, each step echoing in the dimly lit passage. The air grows cooler as we descend into the bowels of the castle, the smell of damp stone mingling with her delicate scent of jasmine and rose.

At the bottom, we step into a long hallway lined with floating orbs of golden light. “Are your chambers down here?” she asks, scanning the area around us. “Is this where you take your day rest?”

“My rooms are over there.” I point down the other end of the hallway. I make sure to keep her far from the door that leads to the cell that I use during my transformation. “But what I need to show you is this way.” I gesture in the opposite direction.

We walk side by side, and I can’t help but glance at her, the delicate curve of her neck, the way her eyes catch the light. She shivers slightly, and I remove my cloak, draping it over her shoulders to make sure she is warm.

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