Page 61 of How to Dump a Vampire

The jewelers is nestled snugly between two stone buildings, its polished oak door bearing an ornate silver knocker in the shape of an owl. As Draven holds the door open for me with a gallant sweep of his arm, a merry tinkle from the bell announces our arrival.

I blink as my eyes adjust from the bright sunlight outdoors to the cozy interior, lit by a combination of natural light streaming through high arched windows and the warm glow of lanterns lining the display cases. The glass cases shine, meticulously polished to best showcase their glittering contents—gems of everyhue and precious metals crafted into rings, necklaces, bracelets, and other finery I can scarcely fathom. My fingers itch to touch and explore, though such frivolous adornments are worlds away from my practical forest life.

An elderly dwarf with a bushy white beard trimmed short comes bustling out from a back room, beaming in delight. His keen eyes gleam beneath busy white brows, taking in every detail.

“Prince Draven, welcome! An honor as always to have you grace my humble shop.” He sketches a neat bow then turns the force of his friendly gaze on me. “And who might this lovely blossom be?”

“Fenton, allow me to present Lady Thorn, my personal guest from the northern forests.” Draven’s hand comes to rest familiarly on my lower back, a subtle possessive touch that makes my pulse skitter. “We are in need of some accessories for the ball tomorrow evening.”

“Of course. Of course! My lady, what pleasure it is to make your acquaintance.” Fenton makes a gracious bow in my direction, eyes twinkling. “With such beauty before me, I shall take great joy in selecting only the finest pieces to complement you.”

I offer him a polite smile in return, though inwardly I’m amused by his obvious attempts at flattery. Still, his warm manner puts me at ease.

Clasping his hands eagerly, Fenton shuffles over to a particular display case near the back. “Now this, I believe, would be just the thing for our fair forest nymph.” With practiced care, he unlocks the case and lifts out an elegant silver necklace. “Mined by my cousins in the Blue Mountains from only the finest quality ore.” He winks conspiratorially as he lays the piece atop the glass for our inspection. “Silver laced with a touch of dwarven magic, so it will never tarnish or lose its luster. And at the center, an emerald the precise shade of moss in spring, if I may say so, my lady.”

I lean in, enthralled by the beauty and craftsmanship of the design. The emerald teardrop glimmers in a setting of delicate silver filigree. Simple yet even my untrained eye can see it is a work of art. I brush a tentative fingertip over the gemstone, half expecting the piece to disappear at my touch.

“It’s exquisite,” I breathe out.

Beside me, Draven smiles. “Of course it is. I would want nothing less for my mate,” he whispers in my ear.His eyes meet mine, deep wells of quicksilver that see past my surface. “We will take it.”

I start to protest such a lavish gift.

Draven silences my objections by taking my hand, his expression unexpectedly earnest. “Please, allow me this small token to welcome you. Seeing such finery grace your lovely neck will bring me great joy.” His voice drops lower in a subtle caress. “Though not nearly so much as your smile in this moment.”

My cheeks warm at his bold flattery even as my reservations melt away. I cannot deny being touched by his thoughtfulness and wish to make me feel valued.

I swallow my protests and accept gracefully. “You have my deepest thanks. I shall treasure it always.”

Fenton beams as he lifts the necklace carefully from its velvet case and hands it to Draven. Moving behind me, Draven gently sweeps my hair aside to clasp the chain in place. I shiver as the cool metal and stones come to rest in the hollow of my throat.

I’m aware of every movement of his body until the clasp clicks shut and he turns me around to face him. His eyes simmer with something I dare not name. His fingers trail feather-light over my nape as he adjusts thependant, letting it nestle perfectly against my skin. My pulse thrums like a plucked violin string, hyper aware of his nearness, his subtle caress. This feels far too intimate for our precarious arrangement, yet I cannot summon the will to pull away just yet.

Fenton, bless him, seems oblivious to the charged moment passing between us. He clasps his hands in delight once more. “Oh, yes, a perfect match! The lady was made to wear such finery.”

Draven’s mouth quirks up at one corner. “On that we agree.” He takes my hand and presses a courtly kiss to my knuckles, eyes dancing. “My lady shines brighter than any gem.”

I reward his audacity with a playful swat against his shoulder. “You are absolutely ridiculous.”

Secretly, I admit his attentions leave me flushed and flustered in the most delightful way.

The shop door bursts open, and Lord Anthony enters looking harried. “Your Highness, my apologies, but you’re needed urgently.”

Draven swears under his breath, clearly irritated by the interruption. “I’m sorry. I need to…”

“Go, if it’s that important. I have an errand to run before heading back to the castle anyways.”

With a small apologetic smile, Draven pays for the necklace quickly and the two of them leave, and I’m left clutching the emerald necklace, pulse still racing from even that brief contact. Being alone with Draven is exhilarating yet dangerous, like dancing with fire. I must keep my wits about me, though my treacherous heart threatens to overrule my logic when I’m near him.

I turn to the kindly old dwarf and dip into a grateful curtsy. “You have my deepest thanks, sir, for helping select such an exquisite piece.” I touch the emerald pendant lying cool against my throat, genuinely moved by Draven’s wish to gift me such beautiful finery.

Fenton’s eyes crinkle merrily beneath his bushy brows. “The pleasure was all mine, my lady. You and the prince take care now.” He waves cheerfully.

Out on the bustling market street once more, I breathe deep of the fresh air and lift my face to the sunshine, letting its warmth soak into my pale skin. An unfamiliar but not unpleasant weight, the pendant glints softly around my neck.

I hesitate, my throat already burning with increasingly urgent thirst. I desperately need to get to theapothecary for more blood elixir before my tenuous control shatters completely. I meander past booths peddling fragrant spices and bolts of sumptuous fabrics, and artisans showcasing their crafts. My fingers itch to explore the wares, but I keep my hands clasped tightly before me, anxious not to draw undue notice.

As I stroll, an uneasy tingle plucks at my senses, the subtle tugging of magical energy. My steps falter as I tense, instantly on high alert. Before I can react, the now-familiar vise grip of involuntary teleportation seizes me. I gasp sharply, the world blurring sickeningly around me.

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