Page 1 of How to Dump a Vampire

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Thorn

The icy wind nips at my cheeks as I trek through the forest, hushed outside of my boots crunching the fresh blanket of snow. A stubborn lock of raven hair covers my eye, escaping the warm confines of my crimson woolen hood. I blink away frozen tears as the wind whistles past, threatening to tear away my fur-lined cloak.

These woods have been locked in winter’s grasp for endless weeks, but today, it has loosened its icy grip just enough for me to step outside and stretch my legs. I know I can’t linger long. The ancient magic that thrums through the forest warns me the blizzard is soon to return. I can feel it in the brittle air. The trees creak and groan under their frosty burden.

Out here, no one can find me or judge what I am. My little cottage awaits, beckoning with its promise of tea and a crackling fire. Here, I’m far from the backstabbing leeches who tried to kill me. Twice! You would think one murder attempt would be enough.

Some “rulers” they turned out to be, the vindictive bastards. I tried reforming their corrupt world once. I thirsted for justice and revenge. I dug up their dirty secrets. But I also learned the hard way you can’t force change on the unwilling.

So I freed myself instead.

Now, it’s just me and the elements. This winter storm is especially nasty. I pull my hood lower as icy flakes assault my cheeks. The things I endure for some peace and quiet.

I curse under my frosty breath, quickening my pace. I can’t wait to be home sipping tea by the fire, my safe little sanct—

What’s this? A man is face-down in the snow up ahead.

Cautiously, I approach, ready to defend my part of this forest from any threat, but as I draw near, I see he poses no danger in this state. Rather,heis in danger.

I kneel down and turn him over. His skin is frozen, lips tinged blue. Clumps of white snow stick to his black hair. My eyes widen. He could almost pass for one of my kind with those sharp features, but I haven’t seen another in ages. Well, I haven’t seen anyone really, but who’s keeping track?

I glance around warily. Where did he even come from? Is this an ambush or trap?

Everything looks clear, though, and I can’t just leave him out here. With a reluctant sigh, I brush the snow from my skirts, loop my arms around his shoulders, and prepare to drag him back to my cottage.

“You better not be trouble, buddy,” I mutter, hefting him up.

He’s slender but tall, and I’m out of practice using my preternatural strength. Still, I manage to hoist his limp form and start dragging him toward shelter.

I don’t need this complication. As soon as he’s conscious, I’ll give him some supplies and send him packing. Back to my peaceful, solitary life. That’s the plan.

So why does part of me want to unravel the mystery of this stranger? And why, when I glance down at his angled features, do I feel an odd stirring in my long-guarded heart?

Bah! Just the cold playing tricks on my mind. Once we’re inside by the warm fire, I’ll tend to him, get some food in his belly, and wave goodbye without a backward glance. No twist of fate can dictate my future or who I give my heart. My life is mine alone now.

I’m in control of my destiny. The past and whatever strange magic stirred here tonight will stay buried, where they belong.

Trudging through the drifts, I half-carry, half-drag him toward the shelter of my cottage. Tendrils of smoke wisp cheerily from the stone chimney, contrasting the stranger’s dire condition. The structure is small and modest, nearly hidden amongst the naked winter trees, but to me, it’s perfect.

I pause at the heavy oak door, gathering the energy to move him enough to open the door. The inside of my home is calling me—the woven rugs covering worn floorboards, strings of drying herbs, a crackling fireplace casting warmth through the single-room abode all my own, away from any who would think less of me.

Shifting the man’s weight, I unlatch the door one-handed. We practically fall across the thresholdin my haste to get him near the fire. I settle his limp form on the thick fur in front of the hearth, my breath coming fast. His fate now depends on my skills, long disused.

Kneeling by the fire, I peel back the stranger’s tattered cloak and search for injuries. There are none, only the unnatural pallor indicating his weakened state. I place my palms on his chest, seeking a heartbeat. It thrums slowly, so unlike my own rapid pulse.

Closing my eyes, I delve into long-restrained abilities. A conduit opens between us as I channel restorative energy into his body, only a trickle at first, probing cautiously at the breach between life and death, and then more forcefully, sensing hisfading life force.

Suddenly, his back arches, body convulsing violently. His striking silver eyes fly open, meeting my gaze with a blaze of recognition. Inexplicably, his life essence entwines with mine, two strands knotting together. The cottage darkens around us.

No! This can’t be!

I recoil, breaking our connection. The stranger collapses back, breathing labored but regulated as he falls back asleep. I stagger away, clutching my chest as unwanted heat courses through my veins. The ancient magicks of a fated mating bond flicker to life.

Hands clenched, I can’t stop pacing. Sorcery has meddled here, that much is clear, but I’ll be damned if some ancient mate-bond with a random starving man will ruin the solitary life I’ve built.

I learned the hard way that destiny and “meant to be” are fantasies. Trusting them only leads to disaster. I refuse to give up my freedom a second time.

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