Page 49 of The Sorcerer of Shadowholde

He hustled out the back door and into a sunny garden, spicy thyme scenting the air as he scanned the beds of flowers for Vita. A rectangular pool was in the center of the space, marble statuary lining the exterior.

Wandering the garden, he turned down another row and there she was. Vita, wearing a beautiful sky blue dress with gold cords wrapped around her supple body, her black hair blowing in the breeze. She gave him a big smile when she saw him, that smile that set his heart fluttering every time he saw it.

“Vita!” he called, and she ran over to him,actually ran, jumping into his arms.

The feeling of her body pressed to his, her arms locked around his neck… Gods, it was too much. When had they gone from friendly hugs tothis?

“It’s good to see you. I kept missing you at the gate,” she said, hazel eyes sparkling in the sunlight, as green as moss-covered stones.

He settled his hands on her waist, perhaps too intimate, but they were alone in the garden.

“I know, sweet girl. I’ve been going through extra training.”

Her eyes widened, a grin beaming on her lovely face. “A promotion?”

He just laughed and shook his head. “I do not know. It’s possible, I suppose.”

“They’d be fools not to,” she said, and though the words pleased him, an ache settled in his chest.

Promotion meant longer hours, greater responsibilities, more time away from Vita.

Yes, it was what he wanted, but the cost? The cost was great.

“What were you doing at the library?” she asked, letting her hands fall from around his neck.

A pink blush covered her face and chest, though from the heat of the sun or the proximity?

“I was… doing some research. Would you like to sit down? I think we should talk.”

Vita narrowed her eyes but nodded, and he led her to an obscured corner of the garden. An undulating hedgerow blocked them in, rows of poppies providing pops of orange and red. She surprised him when she lay her head in his lap, gazing up with a sweet smile.

Why must the Gods always punish him so?

Before he could stop himself, he brushed a stray tendril of hair away from her face, the view of her staring up at him making his stomach do somersaults. Such a tease she was.

She quirked a brow, though a smile still curled her pink lips. “Ver? You were talking aboutresearch?”

He cleared his throat, quickly returning his hand to rest on the grass beside him. “Have you heard of vampiric compulsions?”

Her smile dropped, a suspicious look replacing it. “No…”

“I guess it’s something they can do to compel a mortal to speak or do things for them.”

Her eyes went wide, and she pushed herself out of his lap, sitting and facing him. His heart wept at the absence.

“Like at the tavern,” she murmured, eyes glancing into the distance as if she were pondering something.

Verian nodded. “Has he…”

“I don’t think so. I’m not sure, though.” Concern marred her beautiful face, wrinkling her brow, before she turned her attention back to him. “You don’t think he has, do you?”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure. I don’t know how we could tell beyond an obvious thing like what happened to Drusus.”

“I think he may have done it once. When we were dancing at the Aonalia Feast. He asked me about the Praetor and I lied. Then it was as if I was forced to speak the truth.”

“And you don’t remember any other times like that?”

“I don’t know. It’s difficult to tell…” Vita trailed off, as if not wanting to say more.

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