Page 50 of Vows Forged in Blood

I take a long, slow breath, bracing myself before I answer.Here it goes then.

“It means…that I don’t want to avoid you any longer.”

She inhales softly and my eyes dart to her lips, the way they part slightly as she breathes, the way the top one forms a perfect bow, the way the bottom is full and practically begging to be pulled between my teeth…I force my eyes back up to meet hers and wait. What will she think? What will she say? I’m equally excited and terrified to find out.

“Alright then.” Such a simple answer, but as her lips curl upward, my chest warms.

“Alright then,” I echo.

She nods her head once and then rises from the couch, going to the bookcase beside the fire and running her fingers gently along the spines until she finds one that sparks her interest. She pulls the volume and glides back to the sofa, that easy sway in her hips that makes it hard to breathe—and keep my hands to myself. She curls up again and begins to read without another word. I blink but decide this is a much better start to this new situation than I could have hoped for, so I simply pick my own book up off of the low table before us and begin to read as well.

It's…nice. Calming. We read for what feels like hours, the only sounds the fire popping and crackling, our soft breathing, and her heart beat lulling me into utter contentment like a babe. I steal a glance at her from the corner of my eye and find her completely engrossed in her book. The firelight dances across her face, the flames’ reflections sparking in her green eyes. She absently toys with a lock of hair, twirling it around her finger again and again.Gods, she’s beautiful.

“Do you need blood?” she asks after a while, startling me.

“No, no, you’re still healing, you?—”

“Alaric,” she says, and the sound of my name on her lips makes my blood heat, my chest clench. She closes her book and holds my gaze. There’s a fierce determination there that calls to me. “I am fine. I am perfectly healed. And I am also your Consort and it’s my duty to give you blood. Let me do it.” I hold her gaze and I see no fear, no trepidation, only stone-hard resolve.

“Alright,” I finally say, moving closer to her across the sofa. She holds out her wrist and I take it gently, barely suppressing a shudder at the feel of her soft skin beneath my fingertips. Her pulse beats quickly, thrumming against my thumb like a hummingbird’s wings. I slice a quick gash and she barely even flinches, her gaze still locked with mine.Fuck, fuck, fuck. This isn’t good. She looks like…like she wants…No.I clench my jaw and force control through every inch of me. I add her blood to my glass but don’t release her wrist…and she doesn’t pull away. Again, I keep my gaze on hers as I lift the glass to my lips and drink. Only then do my eyes slide closed, the taste of her blood on my tongue like fucking heaven. Fire licks through my veins, Dahlia filling every fiber of my being.

She’s my lifeline. She’s my heartsblood. She’s mine.

“I knew an old drunkard in the village where we lived before we took the title,” she says quietly. I crack open my eyes and meet her gaze, having no idea where she might be going with this. “There was a beat of time when he swore off the stuff, though. Didn’t touch a drop for months and months. But I saw him the day he broke, the moment the alcohol hit his lips after all that time. It was like agony and ecstasy all at once, like he was stepping foot into heaven and hell at the same time.” Her eyes flick to my lips for a quick moment before she lifts them to mine once more. “That’s what you look like right now. You have that same look on your face.”

I exhale roughly. “Fresh, true blood is quite different than the replicated version. It’s…intense.”

I realize I still have her hand, am still tracing slow circles on her wrist with my thumb, and something heavy and hot suddenly surrounds us. My fangs are still out, my heart thundering in my chest and my blood thundering in my ears.

“I think…” Her eyes dip to my lips again and she wets her own before yanking her gaze back up. She clears her throat softly. “I think I should go to bed.”

I force myself to release her hand and shove that heavy heat away.

“Of course. I can walk you?—”

She stands quickly and backs away from the sofa, towards the door. I narrow my eyes ever so slightly. There’s desire coming through the bond between us in waves strong enough to swallow even the most stalwart of ships. Is it just because of the blood I gave her? Does that cause her to…feel things for me that she wouldn’t normally feel? Or…

“No, that’s ok. Really. I’ll, uh, see you…tomorrow?” There’s a hope in her voice that sets my chest aflame again. She wants to see me again like this.

I nod. “Tomorrow.”

“Good night, Alaric,” she says as she opens the door.

“Goodnight, Keeva,” I say quietly just before she slips into the hallway.

I scrub a hand across my face and run my fingers through my hair. How the fuck could sitting in the study, reading beside Dahlia be one of the best nights I’ve had in centuries?

“And I’m doing it again tomorrow,” I say to the flames, a slow smile spreading across my lips.

Chapter 25

DAHLIA

“Alright, same drills as last time,” Nova says a week later. We’d started my real training sessions and though I’d honestly been hoping for a sword or a dagger or one of those deadly-looking balls with the spikes on the end of a chain things I’d seen some of the soldiers training with, it made sense to start with the basics of hand-to-hand combat before moving to weapons. It was the same when learning at the forge with da. I couldn’t just start with a hammer and anvil without breaking my fingers or knocking myself unconscious. I had to learn the craft of it first, how to move, how to work the instruments, tounderstandthem.

And according to Wesley, my body is my most important instrument. It’s my first weapon, and I need to understand how to wield it before I can learn to wield anything else.

“There you go…shift your weight a bit…there, that’s better…strike…spin…good!”

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