Page 92 of Blood of a Huntsman

Chloe wasn't sure she understood.

"Has anyone told you my story, little daughter? I wonder whether there are any alive to remember it. Other than that monster."

He meant Ariadne, she guessed, given the ire and disgust in his tone.

"Levi might know it."

Eirikr snorted. "Your mate is a child."

Chloe chuckled, though there was little humor in it. She could count on Eirikr to say things like that.

"I'll definitely repeat that. See what he says."

Eirikr had no smile for her today.

"Tell me," she invited him.

He rose and strode to her. Lifting one hand, he placed it on the side of her head.

"No. Telling doesn't work. Let me show you."

And he did just that.

She saw the hills, smelled the freshly cut grass, heard the laughs and the chants. The scene ran at such a fast pace her vampire mind could only just grasp it. The beautiful woman he loved, the way he would have given everything for her. Then, his descent into hell after he did just that, giving his life so that Tatiana had a second to escape Ariadne's massacre.

She saw him rise again, and then walk away in the rain. Going to the only place he could go.

Tatiana.

She called him a monster, rejected him, threw him out in the street. Then there had been despair, for a time. Eirikr filled his life with the hunt, an endless game of predator and prey.

Hunting for Ariadne first, but finding her was impossible. She was too fast, too smart, too powerful. Soon, he started to notice the trail of bodies following vampirekind, and his prey changed. He hunted others like him.

After hundreds of years, Eirikr was as close to peace as he ever could be, settled in a beautiful land with three hills. Here. This was his home.

He invited the other vampires to join, building them a vacation home. As long as they were no threat to the innocent, he had no quarrel with them. He warred against the monsters.

He trained humans, asking witches to help strengthen them without turning them into abominations.

The huntsmen.

The witches…they were Tatiana's old clan. After the rise of Christianity, when they were chased away, he'd taken them in and settled them in a small fortress, right here.

The Institute. Clan…Vespian. That was their name.

And then there was a child of twelve, running away as fast as her little legs could carry her.

She had been conceived for one purpose: to be sacrificed in order to extend her mother’s life.

Then Eirikr learned that Tatiana still lived. That through black magic and terrible spells, she'd managed to survive this long.

"I will protect you, child," he swore.

At first it had been just that. His need to protect anyone who deserved it, anyone innocent and vulnerable.

But then she grew into a beautiful woman, and it became more.

Much more.

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