Page 90 of The Vampire's Bride

Aerlyx’s head jerks back. “What?”

“Do you have any idea how ill that wine made her?” He grits his teeth. “I can’t even imagine how much worse it would have been if she’d had a whole glass.”

The Incubus blinks at me in shock. “I didn’t know it would affect you like that. Truly.” He takes my free hand and drops to one knee, pressing his forehead to the back of my knuckles. “I swear I did not mean you any harm.” He lifts his head, his eyes pleading. “I know I’m an Incubus and my people have a reputation for mischief, but I did not do this on purpose. Please, believe me.”

There’s a vulnerability in his eyes that makes me inclined to think he’s telling the truth. Valaric, however, judging from the snarl on his lips, is not yet entirely convinced.

“Unhand my wife,” he grits through his teeth. “Now.”

“Really, Valaric?” Aerlyx huffs. “You still think I’m trying to steal her from you?”

Instead of answering, my husband glares at him, and the Incubus rolls his eyes.

“It’s all right, Aerlyx,” I reply before they can start arguing again. “You don’t have to apologize. I rarely partake, so I think my body is just not used to having wine. That’s all.”

I turn to Valaric. “And you don’t have to worry about anyone trying to coax me away from your side. I told you before: I swore myself to you in a temple of the old gods, and I did not make my vows lightly.”

His expression softens.

“Besides,” Aerlyx adds. “You know I’m different from the rest of my kind.”

Something about his statement loosens the tense set of Valaric’s shoulders. I want to ask what Aerlyx means when he says he is different, but Lysander interrupts. He looks at my husband. “There is someone here to see you, my Lord.”

“Who is it?” Valaric asks.

“One of Lord Stryker’s bloodsworn.” My ears perk up, wondering if it’s Maryl, but then Lysander adds. “He says he has a message for you from his Lord.”

Valaric clenches his jaw, obviously disconcerted. “I’ll meet with him in the drawing room.”

They quickly excuse themselves, leaving me alone with Aerlyx.

I turn back to him. “Would you care to join me in the study for tea?”

He flashes a quick grin. “I was hoping you would ask.”

We sit across from each other, a slight frown marring his brow. “You know,” he says thoughtfully. “You’re very different from the last one.”

I freeze at the mention of Valaric’s previous wife, and then set down my cup. “You knew her?”

“Yes. But she is the only one, besides you, that I’ve met. I didn’t know him when he was wed to the others.”

Others. Jealousy rises, unbidden, but I push it back down. “What was she like?”

“Reserved, with a hint of arrogance that most of the nobility seem to possess… entirely unfriendly in my opinion,” he muses. “It was no secret that she disliked Vampires and otherworldly beings. She was rather cold and indifferent to him.”

“That’s terrible.” My heart hurts for my husband. “Why was she like that to him?”

“Why is any human this way toward those that are different from them?”

His words fill me with shame for I know they are true. I judged Valaric the first moment I saw him. I’d believed he would be cruel simply because he was a Vampire and I could not have been more wrong.

“I cannot speak for all of my people,” I begin. “But I can tell you that what I was taught of Vampires… I realize now how much of it was false.” I meet his gaze evenly. “And I suspect much of what I learned about others, Incubi included, is probably wrong as well.”

He studies me curiously as I continue. “It makes me concerned for my husband’s safety,” I admit. “Tell me: will your wards be able to keep out any hunters that might come for him?”

“Unless they’ve got a particularly skilled mage or witch at their side,” he answers. “Which is highly unlikely given that most hunters have a general disdain not only for Vampires, but for any beings that possess or wield magic.”

His words are reassuring, but I still worry. I’m also afraid that my attacker may come to finish what they started, but I do not voice this aloud. To do so would only lead to questionsabout my attack, and that is the last thing I wish to talk about. Especially given the frequency of my nightmares.

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