Cross Her Heart (War of Her Heart #2)

1. Chapter 1

1

Chapter 1

Bronwen

Weeks had passed since I’d last encountered one. I’d nearly given up hope until a laugh drifted from just beyond the trees to my right. My pace quickened, my heart leaping into my throat. I pulled my hood tighter around my face, blending into the shadows as I moved closer. I wasn’t ready to be seen, not yet.

The towering pines whispered in the breeze, their gnarled branches swaying above me. I came to a stop when I noticed a clearing with a small cottage sitting in the middle. Its stone walls were overtaken by wild jasmine, the vines crawling up to the roof as if the house itself were consumed by nature. I’d passed this place countless times, wondering who could live here—someone who let flowers overrun their home, or perhaps someone who had long since disappeared.

I supposed my answer might be no one now, considering the lifeless body that had just fallen to the ground with a dark figure standing above it. Only the moon and stars in the sky gave me just enough light to see what took place before me, but it wasn’t enough to know exactly what they looked like. Not until they were closer.

The soft crunch of leaves behind the cottage drew the figure’s attention. My body tensed, and I ducked behind a nearby tree. The figure took a step toward the noise, crouching and patting the ground. I squinted, trying to make sense of their actions. Moments later, a dog ran from the side of the house, tail wagging furiously as it jumped into the figure’s arms.

I stood frozen for a moment as I watched the figure pet the dog and say unintelligible things to it. What was it doing? No—what was I doing watching this?

I exhaled, lowering my hood. The warm night air kissed my skin, and I could feel the figure’s attention shift as its back stiffened. He tilted his head back, drawing in a deep breath. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was standing before me. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. No matter how many times I’d witnessed it, their speed always caught me off guard. But I showed no fear, keeping my chin high as I met his gaze.

It was then that I could see who I was dealing with. A male who looked to be not much older than me. He was taller than me—taller than my father, who was no small man. His short blonde hair gleamed almost white in the moonlight, his pale skin showed no blemish, and his eyes . . . his eyes glowed an eerie red.

A vampire.

Exactly what I had come to find.

“It must be my lucky night,” he said, his voice smooth as velvet, with a sinister edge that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. He raised a hand, brushing my dark hair aside, exposing the tanned skin of my neck.

I stood tall, gripping the sleeves of my cloak as I waited for his advance.

He leaned in, inhaling deeply, his lips brushing against my skin. “And you . . . what are you?”

I didn’t answer. I never did. Let them think they had the upper hand—that they had what they wanted before I took it all away.

But vampires usually didn’t talk. If anything, it was a few nonsense words that would keep me confused for days trying to figure out what they meant. Bloodlust consumed them, leaving only one thought: to drain the human in front of them.

But this one . . . this one was different. He had control. I could feel the restraint in his movements, the calculated way he held back, even after feeding. That made him far more dangerous than the others.

His eyes came back to meet mine. Glowing red to match the blood of his last victim that still stained his lips, a woman foolish enough to hang her laundry out at night. She should’ve known better. We all knew better than to leave the safety of our homes after sundown.

I could have stopped him. No— should have stopped him. But I didn’t care enough to.

That, I suppose, was what made me more dangerous than the rest.

“Come on, green eyes,” he said as he poked his lip out. “You’re taking all the fun out of it.”

I locked eyes with him, holding my ground in silence. A faint hum seemed to ripple from him, like an unseen current vibrating in the air between us. It called to me, pulling at the core of my being, a forbidden temptation I could barely resist. But I had a ritual that I liked to keep that somehow made it all even better.

He cocked his head to the side. “Fine. Be that way.”

In an instant, his face shifted, the playfulness replaced with a dark intensity. Beneath his eyes darkened, and his fangs extended as he sank them into my neck.

I waited. Just long enough for my vision to blur, for the pressure of his bite to overwhelm me. I slid my hand up his stomach, then his chest, until I made it to his neck. I wrapped my hand around his throat, forcing the magic that made him what he was to leave him and come into me. The vampire’s breath caught in his throat, and his eyes widened in shock. He pulled away from my neck, but it was too late.

I squeezed harder, not just around his throat but around his magic. It was mine now.

He gasped for air, his face contorted in pain, but it didn’t matter. The power I had stolen from him—his magic—coursed through me, making me feel alive in a way nothing else ever could.

He fell to his knees, staring up at me, helpless. I raised my other hand, and with a thought, fire bloomed in my palm—a crackling ball of heat, ready to reduce him to ash.

“Come on, red eyes ,” I said, mocking him, my voice low and laced with venom. “You’re taking the fun out of it.”

The flames reflected in his red eyes, but he didn’t flinch. His lips curled into a grin, his sharp teeth still covered in my blood. It was as though he welcomed it, as though he found some twisted joy in my defiance.

But as I brought the fire closer, his expression shifted, just slightly—an almost imperceptible flicker of something behind his arrogance. Fear? No. Something darker, something that made my pulse stutter. His grin widened as if he knew a secret I didn’t, a glint of malice dancing in his gaze.

The flames licked the edges of his shirt, and the acrid scent of singed fabric filled the air. He didn’t move, didn’t scream. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his voice a low rasp as he fought against my control to speak. “You don’t know what you’ve started.”

A chill raced down my spine, despite the fire burning in my hand. I hesitated, the words replaying in my mind. What did he mean? What was he trying to say?

The hesitation cost me.

A faint rustling reached my ears—too deliberate to be the wind. My grip faltered, and just as I turned my head to investigate, a force like a battering ram slammed into my side. The fire in my hand extinguished instantly as I was thrown into the air, crashing hard against the unforgiving earth. A jagged rock jutting from the earth tore through my side. A sharp, burning agony ripped through me as my skin split open, the wound dragging down my torso like an unrelenting claw. Warm blood seeped into my clothing, sticking fabric to flesh as a fresh wave of pain surged through me, leaving my vision spotty. Every breath sent white-hot agony shooting through my ribs, the injury deeper and more vicious than any before.

I struggled to push myself upright. The world around me was a blur of shadows and moonlight, the towering pines looming like silent sentinels. I blinked hard, forcing clarity, and froze when I saw him again.

The vampire was standing tall, his focus fixed on me. But he wasn’t alone. Another figure emerged from the shadows, shorter and darker, with an air of malice that made my stomach churn. Their movements were fluid, predatory, and their glowing eyes burned through the darkness like embers.

The blonde vampire raised a hand, halting the new arrival mid-step.

“I don’t share,” he said to the new vampire, his voice colder now, each word laced with deadly intent. His gaze flickered to the blood pooling beneath me, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

My teeth clenched as I gathered the last remnants of magic from deep within me. The air around me grew hotter, sparks snapping at my fingertips until a flame burst to life once more. My body screamed in protest, but I ignored the pain, channeling every ounce of my remaining strength into the fire. The fire streaked toward the blonde one, its heat distorting the air between us. Just as it was about to reach him, a blur of motion intercepted it—the new vampire leaped in front of him, shielding him with his own body. Flames roared to life, consuming him instantly. His agonized scream shattered the night, his form contorting as fire licked hungrily at his flesh. He thrashed for a moment before collapsing, his body turning to ash that scattered into the wind.

The blonde smiled and let out a wicked laugh as he looked around at the ashes floating in the wind. I pointed my hand towards him again but before he met the same fate as his friend, he disappeared into the darkness.

Panic gripped me. I scanned the woods, my vision dimming with every passing second. The magic I had stolen was slipping away, just as the blood from my side soaked into the earth. I had to leave before it was too late. I thought of home—of the front door to the cottage my family lived in for generations—and willed myself there.

The next thing I knew, I was on my knees, the door before me. I hit my hand weakly against it, gasping for breath.

The sharp sting of the bite on my neck reminded me of what my family was about to discover. Even if the secret of me going into the woods at night was about to come to light, no one could know I let one bite me. I healed it quickly, using the last remnants of the magic I had stolen.

I slumped against the door, and the world went black.

***

“How could she have been so reckless?” Papa’s voice thundered through my room as his heavy boots stomped across the floor. He hurled a trinket from my dresser, and I watched it shatter against the stone wall. His long, now graying hair that he always wore neatly in a bun brushed against his shoulders. He hadn’t taken the time to pull it back since he found me on the steps in the early hours of the morning.

“Henry, please.” Mama’s voice was softer, but no less filled with worry. She moved toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him. She had always been the steadier of the two, but even she could only do so much when Papa’s temper flared, which I understood more than most. That same temper ran through me.

Papa let out a sharp breath. His green eyes flickered with barely contained fury. “She knows better than to go into the woods after sundown.”

The healer pushed the needle deeper, and I bit back a hiss, swallowing the sting. Papa could heal me with a few words, but he wanted me to feel it. To punish me. To make me understand the pain the townspeople endured when the vampires came for them, though they would hang us in the square without a second thought if they ever learned what we were.

He had stopped the bleeding and healed my punctured lung when he found me, but left the open wound exposed, ensuring that each time the needle pierced my torn flesh, I would feel the raw, searing pain. The slow, careful stitching sent jolts of agony through my side, each pull of the thread a reminder of my mistake, of my vulnerability. The sensation of torn skin being pulled back together was unbearable, but I clenched my jaw, refusing to let the pain show.

“She’s too young for this,” Papa muttered, the words thick with frustration.

I scoffed, though the motion made the room spin.

Twenty-two. I was nearly twenty-two.

“Winnie, what were you doing out there?” Mama asked softly. “You should have been in bed.”

“I was out there for the same reason that any other witch goes into the night, Mama.”

“Hunting? But Winnie, you—how did you—” She glanced at Papa, her voice trembling.

I pushed myself up slightly, wincing as the pain in my ribs flared. Since he wouldn’t heal me, he was going down too. “Tell her about the vampires, Papa.”

“Henry?”

As Papa opened his mouth, the door creaked open. My twin, Adar, stepped inside, his wild black hair in disarray, his eyes—my eyes—locked onto me with that sharp, knowing gaze of his. His shirt was untucked, buttons mismatched, exposing some of his golden skin, and one leg of his pants was tucked into his boot while the other hung loose.

“B, you alright?” Adar reached his hand out as he walked towards me. He didn’t have to say anything for me to realize what he was doing.

I winced as I shifted, trying to sit up. The healer’s hand came down on my shoulder, but I pushed her away, desperate to reach out to my brother.

Just as our hands were about to touch, Mama yanked him back by the collar, her voice sharp. “Oh no, Adar. You are not helping her this time.”

He glanced at me. “Sorry, B. I tried.”

I let out a huff as I leaned back against the pillow, the small movement causing me to tense.

Mama looked down at the disheveled mess that stood before her. “And who was the unfortunate one this time?”

Adar plopped down in the chair opposite my bed, lounging as if the chaos swirling around him didn’t exist. He crossed his arms behind his head, his grin a mix of mischief and defiance. “Charlotte Gentry,” he said with a casual shrug. “Though I wouldn’t call her unfortunate. Let’s just say she got more out of it than I did.”

He waggled his eyebrows for effect, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Mama sighed, clearly unimpressed, but Adar didn’t care. He leaned back further, a smug smirk on his face. “She even thanked me when it was over. Can you imagine? A grateful witch—who knew?”

My brother had many talents. Wooing a witch for a little magic being one of his favorites. He could also sell anything making him the preferred child to go to Market with Mama in town square, and beat anyone that challenged him to a sword fight, though I wasn’t too far behind him on that.

Papa groaned. “Adar, I have told you not to—”

“Oh, no. You can yell at him later. We aren’t done,” Mama cut in .

Papa shot me a glare before turning to Mama. “I wanted to know what their gift would do to a vampire.”

I scoffed at the word gift. No natural connection to magic, but the ability to pull magic and wield it in any way we wanted. Some gift.

Mama paled. “When?”

Papa grabbed her hands. “Odelia—”

Mama turned to me. “When?”

“We were six or seven.”

Mama ripped her hands away from Papa.

“What happened?”

“We both placed a hand on it and pulled until her veins bulged and her skin went gray.” I remember that moment all too well. The magic surged through me like a lightning strike, setting every nerve in my body alight. My breath hitched, and I felt my heart hammering against my ribs, as if it, too, was desperate to escape the sheer force coursing through me. My hands trembled, not from fear, but from the sheer energy that felt too vast to contain. “But within minutes her magic seemed to regenerate, bringing life back to it once again, and Adar—”

“B,” Adar warned.

“Adar nearly cried as he ran to hide behind Papa when the vampire shot up.” I started to laugh but the moment brought pain so strong that the laugh turned into a scream.

“Henry! They were only children. They could have died.”

“No, Winnie set the vampire on fire with one pointed finger before it took a step toward her.”

“So what? You’ve turned our daughter into a hunter? Without telling me?”

“No.” Papa ran his hand through his hair. “I had no idea she was doing this.”

“Then why, Winnie? That one vampire has caused all of this?”

I glanced at Papa.

He sighed. “After that, she begged me for weeks to bring another vampire home. I dismissed her every time until I got so aggravated with her relentless begging. So we made a deal.”

“A deal?”

Papa sighed, his voice low. “A vampire every birthday.”

He thought it was harmless, just a way to help me understand my abilities, but it was never enough. Once a year wasn’t enough.

That was why I had been in the woods last night. And the night before. And every other night for the last two years.

Mama turned and ran out of my room. Papa chased after her, leaving Adar and me in silence.

He let out a low whistle. “Well, that was dramatic.”

I ignored him, my fingers ghosting over my neck as an odd tingling sensation crept across my skin. My stomach twisted when I felt it—the raised scars where the vampire’s mouth had been just hours ago. It shouldn’t be there. I had healed it, just as I always did. There was never a trace left of what had happened. But this time was different.

I didn’t kill him.

He was still alive.

And I was marked.