Page 77 of A Vow of Blood and Tears

I tilted my head in query; my wrist still stung too much to move that hand.

“You are starving Bane.”

An accusing silence fell between us. Wyn didn’t blink even once, keeping her gaze fixed evenly on me.

I tried to sign, but she shook her head. “I don’t want to hear excuses. You made the vows to offer your blood as his, and you are starving him. He is living on the blood of murderers and rapists—aLord, polluting his body with that filth, becauseyou are starving him.”

A lump formed in my throat, and I tried to swallow it down; wasn’t I spending enough hours of the day wallowing in my own guilt, knowing I was denying him the blood I’d promised him and unable to shake my terror of it?

When he’d painted the picture of it for me, he’d somehow made it seem so distant; drinking from those who were convicts, prisoners… but hearing Wyn state it so baldly made it a thousand times worse.

He drank from rapists. From murderers. Not from someone who offered their blood with love.

No wonder he hadn’t wanted to speak of it to me.

“I’m not going to rail at you and demand to know why,” Wyn said. She tucked a lock of silver-and-blonde hair behindher ear, straightening up and taking a deep breath. “As I said, I don’t want to hear excuses or reasons. But I do want you to know what is happening—that he is slowly starving, because the ancestors know that he despises drinking from the veins of such foulness. And you should understand that if this should continue, whatever respect you have now from our people will fade into dust. You will be considered a ball and chain around his ankle, and your death and the subsequent choosing of a new bride will be a cause for great celebration.”

Something stung in my eyes; I blinked hard, trying to get it out. Maybe some dust, or an eyelash, but certainly not tears at the fact that I was a burden on Bane’s life.

“I’ve told you before that I like you, Cirrien, and that remains true,” she said gently. “But to a vampire, this is a grave insult. They won’t care that you were chosen by the whims of fate, or that you didn’t ask for this; they will only care that you made your vows to him and failed to uphold them. I know it’s not fair.”

Life isn’t fair, I signed, letting the bandage slip away. I’d rather feel pain; I thought I might deserve it a little.

“If you want to avoid being hated, and merely tolerated because you’re a requirement, I would suggest trying a little harder. We love him, but we hardly know you. And right now… when we look at you, we see a fiend in constant pain from his thirst, and a woman who has no marks on her.” She closed her eyes. “I once offered to find him a new lover if you could not handle the reality of your new life. If he continues to starve, to live in the agony of constant thirst, I will renew that offer. You will be the Lady of the Rift in name only, but his devotion will never be yours.”

By the Light, my throat ached; with unshed tears and words I couldn’t speak to defend myself. But how could I defend myself? She wasn’t wrong.

The vampires would see me as a leech, maybe even worse than one: I lived in luxury now, had been given everything my heart desired, and… I couldn’t eventryto share my blood.

“I’m always the one lecturing you, aren’t I?” she asked with a wry smile. “Visca tells me to let it go—that you two will find your own way, or you won’t. But I’m not the kind of person who can just let things be. If you hate me for this, I’ll accept that, but I can’t let this continue without a warning.”

I nodded, still trying to swallow past that lump in my throat. It was fairly done.

She led me to the door and opened it. “I’m sorry, Cirrien, but if it’s hatred, you must find a way to let it go. If it’s disgust, you must find a way to reject it. And if it’s fear, you must find a way to overcome it. If there’s one thing I can promise, it’s this: Bane will never harm you.”

I nodded, and stepped into the hall with my head down. My own shame didn’t allow me to meet her eyes.

Without waiting for another word, I strode down the corridor, wanting to be alone with my own thoughts.

I couldn’t imagine hating Bane, nor even being disgusted by him, but… the fear I felt near his teeth was so overwhelming. How the hell was I supposed to overcome that stark, shrieking terror?

Most of all, I felt terrible guilt. Bane had gone out of his way to welcome me, to understand me, to give me a new purpose, and what had I done for him?

Nothing.

I slowed as I approached the Tower of Winter, and took the bandage from my wrist. The cut Wyn had made was now a pale pink, scar-like mark.

The knife had been as sharp as Bane’s teeth. Surely it wasn’t so much different.

Just… like many knives. All at once.

In my throat.

I shivered, my arms and back prickling with goosebumps, and shook that thought away. He was terrible to behold, but gentle and kind. He would never hurt me deliberately.

I tucked the bandage in a pocket in my dress, and steeled myself. I didn’t give a damn about the luxury, or the maids, or the pretty dresses. I cared only about Bane himself, and between the lines Wyn had made it clear—I wasn’t just starving him, I was making him feel worthless and unwanted.

That was the last thing I wanted to do to him.

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