Page 56 of How to Dump a Vampire

I perk up at this new personal detail. “I would dearly love to hear you play sometime.”

“Perhaps…” She toys idly with the sash of her cloak. “If the mood strikes. Now, I believe I’m due a question in return?”

I incline my head graciously. “Ask away, my lady.”

Thorn’s eyes take on a teasing glint. “Well then… how many hearts have you broken with that roguish charm of yours?”

I press a hand to my chest in mock affront. “You wound me! Here I thought your impression was solely favorable.”

Her answering laugh sends warmth cascading through my veins. “Come now. I find it hard to believe you haven’t left a trail of lovelorn ladies in your wake over the centuries. You’re a prince, and let’s be serious. Vampires are known for their more carnal desires.”

I hold her gaze meaningfully. “Not as many hearts as you might think. The demands of my station make true romance… challenging.”

Lonely, too, though I refrain from saying so aloud.

Something that looks like empathy flickers in Thorn’s eyes, but the shutters lower again before I can be certain. I wonder if she, too, knows what it means to feel isolated even amidst a crowd.

We pass beneath the spiked iron portcullis into the castle’s outer courtyard, our playful banter continuing as I soak up these glimpses past her prickly exterior. It’s like basking in the warmth of spring’s first rays after an age of winter’s chill.

Too quickly, we traverse the open-air corridors to my wing. Tension coils through me with each step drawing inexorably toward parting.

Thorn pauses outside the heavy oaken door, our joined hands falling back to our sides.

“Thank you for indulging my sister’s whims and allowing me to escort you tonight.” I infuse the formal words with sincerity, hoping she understands this was no mere obligation to me.

Thorn inclines her head politely, though her eyes shutter again. “I appreciate you both going to such efforts on my behalf.”

We hover a moment, the silence heavy between us. I’m struck by the urge to gently tuck back the locks of hair that have escaped her braid, so at odds with her usual severe style. She looks up at me, lips parted as if to speak.

Some magnetic force draws me nearer until I find myself leaning down to press my mouth to hers. For an electric instant, Thorn softens into the kiss, her hands lifting as if to draw me closer…

But then she turns her face away abruptly, eyes lowered. “Forgive me, I cannot… This is unwise.” Her words come out barely a whisper.

Regret floods me. Of course she is not ready for such intimacy with our connection still so tenuous. I retreat a step, cursing myself for presuming too much.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” I keep my tone gentle. “The fault is mine. Goodnight, Thorn. Sleep well.”

I wait until the door closes softly behind her before making my way to my own chambers. The kiss lingers on my lips, sweeter than fae honey-wine and twice as intoxicating. Getting past her thorny exterior will require time and patience, but I find myself more determined than ever to discover the tender heart I know beats beneath the witch’s prickly armor.

Half in a daze, I ready myself for bed, my thoughts consumed by Thorn. The mysteries of her past, the secrets flickering in those fathomless dark eyes… they draw me in even as they signal caution. Something wounded her deeply once. I only hope in time she will trust me enough to share those hidden parts of herself and perhaps allow me to help mend them.

Slipping between the cool silken sheets, I close my eyes. Does she lay awake as well reliving those blissful moments in the starlight before fear drove her backbehind her walls? I will be patient, I remind myself again, but patience has never been my strong suit.

I fall into a fitful sleep full of tangled dreams where Thorn and I dance together at the Yule Ball, gaze locked as if we are the only two souls in existence. Her lips meet mine again and again beneath the wavering candle flames, but each time I reach for her, she dissolves into mist through my fingers.

I wake well before dawn restless and on edge, but as I rise to greet the new day, determination braces my steps. Last night’s thawing, however brief, gives me hope. I need only keep chipping away to uncover the light that draws me like a beacon within Thorn’s shadows.

And when at last her armor comes down for good, I will be there waiting.

22

Draven

Sunlight streams in through the arched windows as I make my way toward the dusty depths of the royal archives. Servants and petitioners bustle busily through the sunlit halls, but the archives remain deserted as always. My footsteps echo across the stone floors, past endless shelves stacked high with leather-bound tomes and curiosities from ages past. I’m drawn here seeking insights, nerves still frayed from the spirits’ violent warnings during my previous late night research session. The archives stand silent and undisturbed in the bright light of day.

I inhale deeply, letting the comforting scents of ink and parchment soothe my restless mind. Sleep continues to evade me lately, my thoughts consumed byThorn. Even here, our fledgling bond tugs at my consciousness, urging me to her side.

I force myself to focus on scanning the shelves, searching for anything related to winter solstice rituals or the amplification of vampiric powers. There must be some clue hidden amidst these millions of pages about the true nature of the fated mate bond and perhaps something about the vampire I’m looking for. There are enough rumors to make me question that her death.

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