Page 59 of The Vampire's Bride

Heat floods my entire body as he readjusts my grip on the bow, every touch igniting a spark deep within.

“Focus on your breathing. Feel the tension in the bowstring.” His voice is a low and sensuous purr as his hands slide down my arms. “Like this.”

My breath catches as he rests his cheek against mine, his closeness overwhelming.

“Now, aim.”

I’m slightly dizzy and breathless under the gentle command of his touch, unable to ignore the desire that builds within at the feel of his hands on me, and the strong beat of his heart against my back.

“Steady,” he breathes. The world around us fades away as I focus on the target and the sound of his voice. “And release.”

I let the arrow fly, watching in triumph as it hits slightly left of the center mark. I turn my head, and then inhale sharply as my mouth accidentally brushes against his.

Warmth creeps up my neck to my face as his eyes lock onto mine, smoldering embers of red swirling with black.

My pulse races. His lips are so close to mine, we share each breath. The smell of mint and cedar washing over my skin.

Intense need unfurls deep within as his eyes lower to my neck and then return to my mouth. I cannot tell if it’s desire or hunger that turns them obsidian black. I only know that I want so much to kiss him. To feel his lips upon mine.

It would be so easy to close the small gap between us, but when I try to make myself move, I cannot. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as my nerves get the best of me.

As if sensing my hesitation, Valaric takes a small step back. “We should stop for the evening,” he whispers. And I do not know if he is speaking of our lessons or the tension between us that makes desire coil tightly within.

I only know that I’m falling for my husband. And as his intense gaze holds mine, I’m beginning to believe that perhaps he feels the same.

CHAPTER 20

JULIET

As I walk through the garden, remnants of my nightmare cling to my mind like cobwebs. Drawing in a shaking breath, I try to remind myself that it was just a dream as I struggle to push aside the fear of my faceless attacker.

I wish Valaric were here, but Elsie said he went hunting.

Absently, I rub the marks on my neck. He will need my blood this evening. I’m not terrified of the idea like I was in the beginning. In fact, I’m quite the opposite of fearful. Nervous anticipation flutters in my belly at the thought of what is to come.

I’m anxious for my husband to return from his hunt. His presence always seems to soothe me when I’ve had a bad dream.

Moonlight covers the garden, casting an elegant glow upon every surface as I walk along the meandering path. Long vines trail over the wall, swaying gently in the breeze against the ancient stonework. They’re covered in glowing white, red, and pink blooms that look like tiny roses, their radiance a lovely contrast to the velvet night.

Tracing my fingers lightly over the soft petals, a familiar tingling warmth spreads across my skin, and happiness fills me as I realize my husband is nearby. “Did you have a successful hunt?”

A cool breeze buffets the back of my cloak, and the scent of mint and cedar surrounds me. The lingering fear from my nightmare begins to drain away at his nearness. His minty breath is warm against the back of my neck as he speaks softly. “Yes.”

He cups my chin and gently turns me to face him. “Did you have another nightmare?”

It’s strange how he can always tell, even when I say nothing. “Yes.” I shudder inwardly as I force down the dark images that threaten to resurface. “But I’m fine now.”

He studies me a moment, as if gauging the truth of my words. My nightmares are rather frequent, and Valaric is always there to comfort me. But lately, I’m worried that he will begin to think of me as a burden, and that’s the last thing I want. So, I quickly change the subject.

“These are newly bloomed.” I gesture to the vines. “Are they enchanted?”

“No. They grow along the cliffs of the city of Nightshade, near the Shadow Sea. We have a manor on the coastline.” I understand that when he says “we,” he means, he and Damar. “I took a few cuttings and transplanted them here over forty years ago.” Reverently, he touches one of the blooms. “They remind me of my sister.”

Shadows and light play upon his face, accentuating the sorrow in his expression as his words paint haunted images of his past, filled with laughter, flowers, and sunlight.

He plucks one of the blossoms, staring down at it with a saddened look.

Without thinking, I reach out, brushing my fingers to his. The contact is tentative, an offering, as I gently take his hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

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