Page 173 of The Vampire's Bride

Black blood gushes from the wound, her face contorted in pain and rage as Talindra crumples to the ground. She points a clawed finger toward me, her voice a venomous rasp. “You think this is over, but it’s not. The bargain does not die with me. You will regret this, Vampyr.”

She levels a hate-filled glare at me a moment before she disappears in a swirl of dust, and the bloody knife drops to the snow.

Juliet is curled on my lap in the study as we wait for nightfall, praying the witch’s curse died with her, despite her threat.

In the hallway, I can hear Damar pacing back and forth as we wait out the clock.

“The sun will set soon,” Juliet says, blinking back tears. “We have less than an hour before—” Her voice breaks as a tear slips down her cheek. She crushes her lips to mine in a kiss full of desperation and longing.

When we finally pull away, I drop my forehead gently to hers. “The witch is dead. She could have lied about the curse surviving her.”

“I know.” Juliet cups my face with both hands. “But if the curse still remains, I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“Do you remember what I told you when Prince Raine threatened to return me to Aralon?” She pauses. “I said I would find a way back to you.”

Her green eyes stare deep into my own. “You are mine, and I am yours, Valaric. It doesn’t matter if she takes my memories. You are part of me. My heart will still remember yours.”

She takes my hand and presses my open palm to her chest, directly over her claiming mark. “We are one heart and one soul. I will remember you because I know you. And I will know you because we are the same.”

Another tear slips down her cheek, but I gently brush it away with my thumb. I allow my gaze to travel over her lovely face, committing it to memory.

“Promise that you will come for me when I am gone.” She draws in a shaking breath. “Find me. I will remember you”—she places her palm to my chest, covering the pendant that hangs around my neck—“Valaric Greyvale, First Knight of the Shadow Blade, my husband and keeper of my heart.”

“You have my most solemn vow,” I whisper in reply. “I will find you. I swear it.”

I pull her to my chest, holding her tight. The sun dips below the horizon and she disappears, vanished from my embrace as if she was never here.

My heart stops and I gaze down at the empty space and whisper. “I will come for you, my ashaya. I swear it on all that I am.”

CHAPTER 73

JULIET

The music from the ballroom grows faint as I slip outside, seeking refuge on the moonlit balcony. I glance over my shoulder as I close the doors, thankful that Jonathan is nowhere in sight.

He’s handsome, and he comes from a good family. He’s everything he ought to be, but I find myself dreading each time he comes near me. He keeps putting his arm around my waist or the flat of his palm against my lower back, as if signaling to everyone that I’m still his even though I am not.

I’ve already ended our engagement, but he’s been relentlessly pleading for me to reconsider. Just last night, he stood beneath my balcony window, begging me to give him a chance to at least court me for a few months to see if it might change my mind.

Leaning back on the door, I take a deep breath. The cool night air is a welcome reprieve from the overcrowded ballroom. I glance down at the dance card hanging from my wrist, every line with a signature.

I’m supposed to be dancing with Lord Henry Mitchell right now, but I cannot force myself to go back inside. I’ve already danced with him twice and that was more than enough.

A rustling noise catches my attention, and I freeze. Perhaps I’m not alone out here. “Hello?” I call softly, scanning the darkness. “Is someone else here?”

I gasp as a man steps out of the shadows, startling me.

“Forgive me,” he says, voice deep and smooth. “I did not mean to frighten you.”

“It’s all right. I—” My breath catches as his crimson eyes meet mine.

This is no man. He’s a Vampire.

I’ve always heard that his kind were handsome, but as I study him, I do not believe that word does him justice.

He is striking to behold, with black hair at the crown that fades into silvery ends, piercing red eyes, moonlight pale skin and large, leathery wings folded tight to his back. He’s taller than any human man I’ve ever seen, with broad shoulders and a lean, muscular form. His face consists of chiseled features too perfect to be real, like a statue brought to life.

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