Page 43 of The Ballad of the Vampire Prince

A faint blush colors her cheeks over our proximity. Her eyes crinkle with warmth and light… before her lips pull into a full smile. She taps my chest with her free hand. “And I have your heart.”

Take everything you want, Nel.

“You’re not even fighting back,” she protests, tapping my chest again with a mocking stab. I am suddenly aware of every part of me that’s touching her.

This elf truly knows how to fuck with my mind. And she’s not even trying. It’s becoming unbearable.

I step away and clear my throat. “I don’t think I can do this today.”

Her expression falls. We barely broke a single sweat and I’m ceasing this practice session prematurely.

Rhianelle nods wordlessly.

I know she was looking forward to this training. I see her determination at the end of each of our brutal drills, writing everything she had learned in her little notebook. But this thing writhing in my chest makes me feel as if my heart is pumping hot molten metal instead of blood.

I told Rhianelle I had better control of our weird connection.

It’s a fucking lie.

I don’t.

My mind is infested with inappropriate thoughts of her. I welcome them when I’m alone in the dark of night, but not right now when she’s right in front of me.

“I should go,” I say, making my way from the field towards the courtyard.

The girl collects her waterskin from the ground and trails quietly behind me. I keep my gaze trained ahead to avoid seeing the disappointed look on her face. An awkward silence sets in between us as we tread along the marbled terrace bridging one column of the keep to the next.

“Are you heading out later?” I hear her ask.

“Yes,” I breathe a reply. I will have to go as far as the southern fae kingdoms to kill this strange pull. I walk faster to get away from her.

“I bet it’s fun to fly. Have fun,” she wishes sincerely, halting her track. The lovely ring of her voice will dance in my head all the way to Avalon.

Ten steps from her and my stomach begins to churn. Fifteen steps and chaos erupts in my brain. Twenty steps… The weight in my chest grows heavier the further I walk.

I heave a sigh.

Leaving her is the most rational thing to do right now. But where Rhianelle is concerned I can’t think straight.

Suddenly I’m not ready to let her go.

I turn around to find the girl struggling to drag a heavy garden vase twice her size.

My brows shoot to my head. I leave her for two seconds and she’s already up to something.

The girl finishes moving the damn thing by the time I get to her side. “What are you doing?”

It takes a few beats for her to catch her breath.

“The flowers are not getting enough light and water underneath this roof,” she says, not answering my question. “Ihave the evening free. I’m going to move them out into the open.”

I don’t think the shriveled thing in the pot can even be called a ‘flower.’ The stem has wilted and the leaves are curled.

“It’s useless,” I tell her flatly. “The lord of the castle said he couldn’t afford the people needed to tend this garden.”

“I know… but at least they will have a chance here along the patio,” she muses, stroking the leaves tenderly. “The sunlight and rain will take care of the rest.”

Rhianelle grabs the next one before I can say more. The vase’s new spot may not be far off from its original resting place, but there are forty-eight pots on the marbled terrace. Is she planning to move all of them?

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