Page 99 of The Ballad of the Vampire Prince

My heart is pounding furiously in my chest, yet I can’t take another step forward to get away.

I shut down the voice of reason ringing at the back of my head and run back into the castle. I’ll probably regret this impulsive decision later, but I have to know.

My heart thumps erratically as I walk along the passage to a wide chamber. This could have once been the keep’s great hall. Other than a few sculptures and decaying furniture, there is not much else that is left.

Movement comes from the stairs and I hide myself in the shadows of a marbled statue. I hold the air in my lungs, careful not to make a sound.

Svenn enters the chamber, carrying the chain in his hand. The clanking of the shackles, dragging on the floor along with his heavy footsteps makes an ominous echo. I see the ravenous hunger dancing in his eyes.

“Rhianelle…where are you?” His voice pierces through the silence of the abandoned castle. It sends a chill down my spine.

I lower my head to keep myself hidden.

In this state, Svenn looks more beast than man. I finally remember all the songs and ballads warning us of the horrors of the vampire kind.

The Nightwalkers are vicious, ferocious, and dangerous. Monsters in the skin of men.

And the worst of them now prowls the empty hallway, searching for his prey.

Me.

The Strigon staggers on his feet and braces his arm against the wall. A strangled cry erupts from his throat. “Nel…”

His head is slumped forward, his long hair is nearly unbound. I fight the foolish urge to smooth the silky strands and feel my fingers running through them.

Something is wrong with him…

Svenn took care of me when I turned into a feral cat yesterday. I want to do the same for him, but his current state is too scary and near insane. Not even Anastarros’ blessings could cure him.

He crumbles to his knees and my heart falls with him. I’ve never seen him so vulnerable and weakened. It’s almost like he’s withering away right in front of my eyes.

What happened to him?

There is only one way to find out.

I close my eyes to commune with my dark patrons in the fortress of my mind.

Stale air envelopes me the moment I enter their abandoned temple. The halls of the sacred place are desiccated and in ruins. Humans, elves, and fae have long forgotten these deities.

The blessings I collected hover in the middle of the chamber like a well spun yarn. I pluck five strings from the bundle and fumble towards Jessica’s lair in Astefar.

In the forbidden forest, only the strongest and the most cunning would survive. I think of all the ways this could go wrong. But as long as I am mindful of my manners and words, it will be all right.

My heart beats faster when I reach the entrance to the cavern. “Jessica, are you home?” I scream into the dark chasm.

A clicking noise resounds from the underground tunnel.

My friend emerges from the shadows, crawling to me slowly despite her many legs. Her obsidian body is slender and sleek after her most recent childbirth. Concern fills the depthless pools of her dark eyes. “What’s wrong, Rhianelle?”

I regret not greeting my dearest friend properly, but I need to hurry.

“Let me borrow your eyes,” I plead to her desperately. “It’s urgent. I need to save my husband.”

“Is he delicious?” Jessica asks earnestly.

Husbands are not for eating…I almost argue. At least mine is not. I know Jessica ate seven of hers, but I don’t judge.

“He doesn’t taste good,” I press on.

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