Page 37 of How to Dump a Vampire

Luna blinks slowly.Sometimes wounds must be reopened to clean out infection. This burden has weighed on your spirit too long. Let me help carry it.

Her compassion brings tears I’ve held back for centuries. She’s right. If I don’t find healthy closure, I’ll stay trapped in the past forever.

I kneel down and pull Luna close, taking comfort from her warmth. “All right, my friend. We’ll go together… Go home.” The word feels foreign yet right.

Resolution settles over me. The journey will be difficult, but with Luna by my side, I’m finally ready to confront the ghosts of my childhood and begin to heal.

14

Draven

The pale winter sun crests over the snow-dusted foothills, casting the encampment in a soft golden glow. Breath frosting the air, nobles emerge from their tents to begin preparations for the day’s hunt.

I spot Princess Audrey by the royal tent, outfitted in finely tooled leather hunting gear. Her raven hair is swept back in an elegant braid, though several unruly strands have already worked loose, as usual.

“Brother!” she calls out in greeting, smiling brightly. “Are you ready to join the hunt today?”

I return her smile, though mine lacks her unrestrained enthusiasm. “As ready as I’ll ever be. You know tracking was never my strong suit.”

Audrey’s eyes spark with mischief. “Perhaps you should have paid more attention to your lessons instead of sneaking off for adventures.”

Before I can respond, a hearty voice rings out. “Adventures build character, Princess. Isn’t that right, Draven?”

I turn to see Anthony striding over, clad in practical hunting garb that can’t quite diminish his noble bearing. Early morning light glints off his golden hair, cut shorter than current court fashion dictates. His strong jaw holds a hint of stubble, another sign of his disregard for aristocratic manners. Only his ice-blue eyes give away his true age and experience, their depths belying his youthful appearance.

Audrey shakes her head, a grudging smile tugs at her lips. “You two are incorrigible. Try not to cause too much trouble out there today.”

With a swirl of her fur-trimmed cloak, she heads off to ready her own mount. Anthony watches her go, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Think we can actually avoid trouble?” he muses.

I clasp his shoulder warmly. “With you by my side? Not likely.”

His grin falters slightly as he catches sight of figures approaching behind me—I turn around to find my elder brother Theron and his retinue of highborn companions. Their fine raiment contrasts sharply with the sensible garb of most other hunters.

“Best get ready,” Anthony murmurs before slipping off toward his tent.

An unpleasant knot forms in my gut watching him retreat. I know it’s to avoid confrontation rather than cowardice. Even now, harsh stares and hissed insults follow Anthony’s turned status, despite his lineage tracing back for generations.

I turn to offer Theron a cordial greeting through gritted teeth, hoping to avoid early conflict, but he sweeps right past as though I don’t exist, his posse trailing behind him.

The clear notes of horns ring out over the camp as the hunting parties gather near the edge of the forest. I take my place alongside Anthony, ignoring the sidelong glares and muttered remarks from some of the other nobles.

At the front, King Nicolai raises his hands for silence. Even in simple huntsman’s garb, his commanding presence draws all eyes.

“Friends, we gather today to commence the annual Winter Hunt.” My father’s voice booms out over the eager crowd. “This hunt marks the kickoff of our cherished Winter Festival, a tradition spanning countless generations.”

He outlines the rules of the hunt—points will be awarded for different captures, with rarer and more challenging prey worth more points. A common red fox pelt is worth five points. A stag antler rack earns ten points, but the most coveted prize is the pelt of a white fox, worth fifty points.

“The hunter who gains the most points by nightfall will win this year’s ceremonial fur cloak.” My father gestures to the dazzling white fox fur draped nearby. “May the gods grant you skill and good fortune this day!”

I tune out most of the familiar speech, eyes drawn to that dazzling cloak on display nearby. A ripple of longing runs through me. As a child, I’d dreamed of one day winning such a prize at the hunt, but it’s been centuries since I cared about such frivolities.

My father concludes his remarks, signaling the enthusiastic hunters gathered. “Now, let the hunt commence!”

A rousing cheer goes up as the parties surge into the shadowy forest. I follow at a more sedate pace, sensing Anthony matching my stride. Together, we plunge into the reaching shadows beneath the snow-laden evergreens.

We move through the hushed forest with the easy familiarity of decades-long comrades. Our footsteps glide silently over the blanketed ground as we track through the dappled morning light. No words pass between us, but none are needed. After so many hunts, battles, and adventures shared, we can communicate through glances and subtle gestures.

---