Page 13 of How to Dump a Vampire

Draven releases my hand and rises from his seat, stretching his arms overhead. An ache immediatelysettles in my heart at the loss of his touch, but I shake it off. This can’t happen. I don’t want this. I can’t get attached.

“I shall add a log or two to the fire before we commence with a third round,” he declares.

I nod absently, eyes following him as he crosses to the woodpile. Once Draven’s back is turned, I seize the opportunity to study the marked stones still scattered across the board and the ones he’s placed on his side. Every little movement he made with these pieces leaves traces for me to read.

My fingertips skim over the arcane symbols, mentally deciphering their mystical import. Let’s see. The rune for deception lies by the home row, suggesting disguise of true intentions. Temptation aligned with recklessness points to rash impulses. Oh, fate, you fickle temptress you.

I quickly commit the other auspicious and ominous patterns to memory before Draven turns back around. There is much to unpack from this covert reading, but I must ponder it later.

For now, I sweep the stones into a pile and begin setting up the board once more. Draven returns to the table, oblivious to my surreptitious divination.

“Ready for me to best you this time?” he asks lightly, though determination glints in his eyes.

I lift my chin. “Bold words. Why don’t we let the stones decide?” I nod to the reassembled board between us.

Draven grins, sharp and wolfish. “By all means. Let the games continue.”

He settles back into his seat as I make the opening move. My mind whirls with revelations from the runes even as I refocus on the strategic battle at hand. I must tread carefully indeed. This vampire may prove more complicated than anticipated.

6

Thorn

The last checker stone clicks into place as I soundly trounce Draven for the third time in a row. He leans back with a huff, raking a hand through his unruly dark hair. I would say it was nice to see him slightly disheveled, but if I’m being completely honest, it’s just making it harder to ignore our mate bond. Why is he so damn attractive no matter what he does? How can I still want him when half the time he makes me so… frustrated?

“I must concede that your skill far exceeds mine at this game,” he states begrudgingly.

I can’t restrain a smug smile. “Perhaps with more practice, you’ll provide me a true challenge someday.”

Draven narrows his eyes at my gloating, though the corner of his mouth quirks. “Such confidence fromsomeone I nearly bested last round. How do you know I’m not just letting you win?”

“Nearly being the key word,” I retort with relish, enjoying this rare upper hand over the vexing vampire.

Inwardly, though, I’m troubled. He might be right. He’s losing the game in an almost laughable way. A way that usually requires knowing the game well enough to intentionally lose. On top of that, the marked stones revealed little insight into Draven’s true nature when reading their scattered patterns. I need him to eat more of my spelled bread to keep his senses clouded to our bond.

As if summoned by my thoughts, Draven leans back lazily in his chair. “That was quite the mental workout. What say you conjure up another of those delicious loaves to replenish us?” He pats his flat stomach for emphasis.

I hide my smile, oddly pleased he enjoyed the bread so much despite its magical ingredients. “Fresh out at the moment, but I was just about to prepare another batch.”

Draven’s eyes light up. “Well then, I shall eagerly await the fruits of your skillful baking, my lady.”

“If you call me lady one more time, I’m going to slip something into your bread that will make your stay far less comfortable.”

I shoot him a wry look as I tidy up the game. We seem to have moved into a cautious rapport, interacting almost… pleasantly. I mustn’t forget Draven leaves at first chance. Whatever cAudreyderie we build here will make that parting no easier.

Clearing my throat, I gesture for him to pull up a seat near the stove’s warmth. “If you insist on observing, at least make yourself useful and stoke the fire.”

Draven grins and grabs the iron poker while I assemble ingredients for the dough—flour, salt, yeast. Kneading bread always steadies my thoughts, and I need that now after the checkers game rattled me with its glimpse at his layered nature.

As I work the dough, I feel Draven’s gaze on me. I straighten my shoulders under his silent scrutiny and add a sprinkle of nullifying herb to the mixture, softly chanting the suppression spell. If only this snow would cease so the vampire could take his mysteries andbe on his way!

Yet as I sense him studying my baking, curiosity about what goes on behind those clever eyes pricks at me.

I sneak a glance up from the loaf I’m shaping. “You seem surprised by my dough technique,” I note. “Don’t common folk bake where you come from?”

Draven blinks as if startled to be caught watching. “Oh yes, of course. I’m sure they do. Just admiring your skill at handling such a… temperamental lump of food.”

I snort. “You almost sound disappointed it isn’t fighting back.”

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