Page 14 of Vows Forged in Blood

She pulls her gaze back to mine again and before I can say or do something reprehensible, I give her a clipped nod and turn to all but flee the room. I need to get away from her. I need time to deal with all of this, to fully absorb all of the changes that have happened in such a short amount of time. Sharing my home, taking fresh blood, being so near a human so often, having a Consort…having a mate…

I shake myself and keep walking.

“What am I supposed to do now?” she calls.

I stop at the doorway and glance over my shoulder.

“Whatever you want,” I say simply, and leave her standing in the center of her room alone.

Chapter 8

DAHLIA

Idon’t do much of anything the first week after arriving at the camp. I spend the first few days grieving the loss of my family and the life I knew, and, admittedly, wallowing. I slept for a full day and a half, exhaustion from everything that had happened slamming into me almost the instant Alaric had left me in my chambers that first day, only waking to eat some of the food that had been left by Takara I assume, and to use the privy (which I’d been very excited to have—I had been fairly certain before arriving that I was going to be expected to piss in a hole in the ground).

The next day, I explored my wing, still surprised that I had it at all. I never would have thought Alaric would share his cabin. Everything was luxurious and expensive, I could tell—plush sofas and chairs, thick fur rugs, gold and crystal sconces and chandeliers, gem-inlaid cups and plates. It was all a bit much, though I suppose it had been constructed and furnished with a typical Consort in mind, and I’m anything but typical when it comes to these things. I appreciate luxuries and beautiful things, but they aren’t things I’m used to or need to have to be happy or comfortable.

Alaric did say that I could change whatever I liked…maybe I’ll redecorate at some point. That would kill some time and apparently that’s all I have now. Time. Endless time to do…I have no idea what. Everything. Nothing. I have no purpose here other than giving blood, and when I’m not doing that, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do to fill my days.

Takara came the third day to make sure I didn’t need anything and to see how I was settling in. I feigned more exhaustion because I just honestly didn’t feel like having company. So, she left and I laid in the extremely comfortable bed, dozing and crying.

I know it’s only been a handful of days, but I already miss my family so badly my chest feels as if it’s been cracked in two. I pull myself from my bed and find parchment and pens in the desk in the corner of my room. It’s a beautiful piece, with elegant knots carved into the legs and across the fronts of the drawers, and painted the deep green color of the forest surrounding the camp in the distance.

Dear Enid,

I feel silly writing to you already when I’ve only just left, but I knew that you were probably falling apart without me, and my words would be needed.

And perhaps I miss you and da a bit as well.

The journey was long, but not too terrible. The High General’s carriage is exceedingly comfortable, of course. Seeing the landscape change from city streets to rolling hills and farmland, to forests as far as you can see, snow-capped mountains in the distance, was trulyextraordinary. I wish you could have seen it. The camp is…

I frown, not really knowingwhatthe camp is like. I’d seen it when we rode in that first day, of course, but other than that, I’ve been hiding here in the cabin, sulking in my rooms since arriving.

The camp is massive, but not nearly as primitive as we feared. You’ll be happy to know that I am not sleeping on the ground or in a tent. In fact, everyone here has their own cabin. Well, actually that isn’t entirely true – not everyone has their own cabin. I share the largest cabin in the camp with Alaric. I have my own wing, of course, so we’re as separate as we can be, but even so, being here in the same house, under the same roof…I’m not sure how to feel, Enid. His presence is so large and all-encompassing, I can feel it from across the expanse of the house.

And we’re connected in ways I can’t even describe for the time being because of the ceremony. I’m told it will fade, but it’s a little overwhelming. I can feel myself longing to be near him, my very blood seeming to call out to his. It’s…confusing. And inconvenient. And fucking unwanted. I don’t want to be near him. I want to be home with you.

Tears well, both of sorrow and anger, and I scrub them away quickly.

I’ll write again soon. Give da my love and make sure he’s not eating too many tarts—make sure he knows that he fools no one when he thinks he’s sneaking them away from the kitchen with no one the wiser.

I love you so much.

-Dahlia

I find an envelope, wax, and a seal bearing the Coven’s sigil with an elegantCscrawled beneath the snarling wolf’s head. I run my fingertips over it.

“C. For Consort. Because I’m the Wolf Coven leader’s fuckingConsort.”

I drop the seal to the desk with a heavy thud and put my head in my hands. I have to take a few deep breaths as that truly sinks in, that this is truly my life now. It is no nightmare, no hallucination. There is no escaping it. I am Alaric’s Consort and will be until the day I die.

Something inside my chest feels heavy, as if my very soul is being pulled under the waves by a weighty anchor. I heat the wax and seal the letter before setting out to find out how in the bloody hells I’m supposed to send correspondence from a fucking war camp, but even as I stride from the room to find Takara, I can feel myself on the verge of slipping into a darkness that I don’t know if I’ll be able to climb out of.

On the fifth day,I knock on the door to the war room. I’d honestly been a bit surprised that Alaric wanted me to come to him so he could take my blood himself rather than just sending one of his squires or servants or whatever they’re called here to do it for him. Surprised, but admittedly excited.How pathetic.

“Enter,” Alaric’s voice comes from within, though he sounds distracted. I push the large doors open and step inside the room. It’s nearly the size of my entire wing, with a giant round table in the middle, maps laid out on top with what look like game pieces placed all around it. It takes me a moment to realize that the pieces are meant to represent the vampiric army and the Revenant one. Each of the five permanent war camps within Braxhelm is marked with a castle-like statue, and I wonder what the others might look like. Do they all have cabins and warm water? Or were others more primitive?

Alaric stands at the table, studying the map intently, his dark brows drawn down. Strands of his black hair tumble over his forehead and I’m struck again by how beautiful he is. More rough-hewn than his brothers, but all the more handsome for it, I think. I shake myself. It doesn’t matter if he’s handsome or not.

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