Page 88 of The Ballad of the Vampire Prince

Plump hydrangeas, tulips, and peonies boast their glorious bloom in the secluded meadow. This hidden garden remains untouched because of its fatal height and proximity to the fae border.

I picture my wife sitting among the vibrant red roses, scenting the flowers one by one and documenting them in her little notebook. She is lovely and perfect in her cream dress, springtime in all its personification. Rhianelle’s head turns to me and a gentle smile curves her lips. I move closer to grasp her hand and the vision vanishes. A mixture of anger and disappointment churns my stomach.

One day I’ll bring Rhianelle here,I silently vow. But for now, I pick the flowers her handmaidens told me she loved. The twins gave me another two samples today.

‘This one is the one she usually puts in her bath. And this one helps her sleep,’ the girl instructed.

Once I’ve gathered enough supplies, I stretch my wings to glide against the updraft.

Thoughts of Rhianelle infiltrate my mind the entire flight.

The bond’s pull is one thing, but I’ve developed an unexplainable feeling towards the girl. It only grows stronger no matter how much I try to smother it.

Well, I’m no longer interested in fighting it.

I’m confessing everything to Nel once I see her.

The sight of the gray tower of Windhaven sends my blood racing knowing that she is somewhere in the keep. I slip through the small window opening and land soundlessly in the room, my wings folding behind me. The sweet hint of waterlilies fills the air, summoning me to its owner. Everything about Rhianelle is created to draw me in, to haunt me.

I find my wife on the floor with her eyes closed, lost in her reverie. Divine, lovely, a piece of heaven itself.

I see her, and just like that, it’s like Satan himself sets me on fire. I’m burning for her.

Her eyes flutter open as soft as a butterfly’s wings.

Silence crashes into the room as the girl stares at me, her eyes widening. I can’t understand the panic in her face. She looks as if she had just seen a basilisk, utterly petrified and afraid.

My heart slams against its chest hard enough to bruise. Fuck—is it the fucking wings? I quickly cloak them and hasten my shift, but Rhianelle remains frozen.

After three tortuous heartbeats, she gathers her belongings on the floor and scrambles to her feet. The girl leaves the room before I can say a word.

I stare back at her as she bolts to the passage’s end.

What the fuck just happened?

“Nel?” I call to her, feeling dumbfounded and a little stunned.

She keeps running away without looking back.

Is this a game like last time? I smile at the tease of a hunt. I do enjoy our little cat and mouse game.

I begin chasing after her.

Every breath, every heartbeat gives her away.

No, this is different.

There is nothing playful about it this time. It’s pure survival. Rhianelle is running for her life.

She’s not even wearing her shoes…

“Nel, wait!”

The girl ignores my summon and keeps running barefooted. She really doesn’t want to be caught.

I can’t afford to let Rhianelle get out of sight. If she starts hiding with that silent skill of hers, I’ll never find her.

I pursue her relentlessly down the hall into the library. She makes a sharp turn to the dark basement. I can tell from the air flow it’s a dead end.

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