6. Chapter 6
6
Chapter 6
Bronwen
He bit me, taking enough blood to leave me disoriented before disappearing into the night. I clasped my hand over my neck and looked around for anything familiar so I could find my way back home. The willow tree—the tree I played under as a boy and brought my wife to when I asked for her hand in marriage. It was only a hundred or so yards from home. I headed that way but had to grab on to trees to keep myself from falling over.
My vision started to blur when a sinister laugh rang through my head, low and guttural, as if it were crawling up my spine. The sound was close—too close—sending a shudder down my back. It held a cruel edge, sharp and taunting, the kind of laugh that reveled in fear. My breath hitched as I spun around, my heart hammering against my ribs, but there was nothing there—only darkness stretching endlessly around me. I started to move again, trying to make my way home, to my wife who begged me not to search for the cow that went missing right before sunset. I hadn’t believed anything would happen. There hadn’t been any vampire incidents in months, and I thought I would be okay.
I made it through the trees to see my wife standing in the yard. She smiled with relief when she saw me before her smile disappeared and her eyes widened.
Snap! A sharp, unbearable pain tore through my thigh as something struck the back of my leg with brutal force. I hit the ground hard, my vision tilting as a strangled cry ripped from my throat. A sickening crunch followed as the bone was forced through the front of my skin. My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out everything else as waves of dizziness crashed over me.
“Go inside!” I screamed at my wife before a blur ran in front of me. Then, he was standing with his hands on my wife’s neck. “No!”
The vampire sank his teeth into my wife’s neck, and I watched as the color drained from her skin. He let go, and she fell to the ground in a lifeless pile.
I turned my body around by gripping the ground and pulling myself away. Between the blood loss and the tears, I could barely see what was in front of me.The ground beneath my palms felt slick with blood, my own warmth pooling around me.
I stopped, my breath hitching as realization crashed over me. The world blurred at the edges, dark spots creeping into my vision, but the sight before me was unmistakable. Black boots. Polished and still, standing just inches from my face. My heart pounded in my chest, a dull, frantic rhythm against the numbing ache spreading through my body.
He crouched down and grabbed me by the chin forcing me to look at him. A bloody smile was on his face as he assessed me with wide eyes. “She was a sweet little thing.”
I spit in his face, and it only angered him more.
He wiped his face with his fingers, dragging them across his lips.
“Here. Have a taste,” he murmured.
While he kept his grip on my chin, he forced my lips open, his bloody fingers prying past my clenched teeth. The metallic tang of blood flooded my mouth, thick and warm, coating my tongue in something sickly and bitter. The taste clung to my throat like iron and salt, making my stomach churn. I gagged, trying to twist away, but his grip was unrelenting.
“Please,” I gasped, my voice barely above a whisper. “Let this be over.”
“Oh, you are going to beg me now? But we were having so much fun.”
I swallowed hard, my throat raw. “Please.”
His eyes darkened, the amusement in them vanishing as his grip on me tightened. I felt the slow press of his breath against my skin, a cruel moment of anticipation before his fangs scraped over the tender flesh of my neck. The pressure built, the inevitable bite hanging between us like a drawn-out promise of pain. My pulse hammered wildly, my body screaming for escape even as I was held immobile in his grasp. Then, finally, he sank his teeth into me. The pain was immediate and searing, a cold emptiness spreading from the wound as he pulled my blood into his mouth, draining away every last shred of warmth I had left.
I gasped for air as I jolted awake, my chest heaving as if I had been running for my life. My skin was damp with sweat, and my hands trembled as they gripped the thin blanket tangled around me. The room felt too small, too suffocating, the faint smell of wood smoke and lavender doing little to ground me. My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out the silence of the early morning .
That was nightmare number twenty-two.
Even though I knew it wasn’t real, my throat ached as if I had been screaming. The memories of the nightmare clawed at my mind, refusing to fade, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had truly been there. He had gotten more twisted with his kills, growing bored of the simple ways. This one wasn’t completely unfamiliar, though. I had lived through it last night from the wife’s point of view. So stupid, she was. Leaving the safety of her home for love. Though I may never know the reason, vampires do not go into homes.
Papa has our cottage spelled, not for fear of them entering at night, but more for the fear of them lurking outside. We have learned through the years that witch’s blood has a distinct smell, and it seems to be more attractive to vampires. Good for hunting—bad for the unsuspecting.
Though still well before sunrise, I knew I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Once I was jerked awake and felt like I was coming back to life after dying, there was no way I would shut my eyes again.
I pushed myself out of bed and quietly crept down the hall, hoping not to wake up my parents.
“Oh you’re awake already.” Mama’s chipper voice caused me to jump back and hit the wall. “I would love it if you would go to Market with us today.”
I scrunched my nose but thankfully it was still dark enough in the hall that Mama couldn’t see. I had forgotten what day it was and that the long trip ahead had Mama awake well before usual.
“I don’t know. That is more of Adar’s thing.” I regretted saying his name as soon as it came out of my mouth. The lines that had gradually formed over recent years were more pronounced from the candle’s flames that she was carrying, showing her sadness that Adar wasn’t here.
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to talk myself out of saying the words I knew I would regret. “Actually, I would like to go with you today.” Her eyes widened, and then the smile I loved to see spread across her face.
She came to me and placed her hand on my cheek. “It will be fun. A girl’s day—well besides your father but I’m sure we will barely see him once we get to town.”
As I walked back into Mama’s sewing room to grab another stack of clothes to take to Market, I saw the pair of pants I had finished sewing the other day placed to the side. I grabbed them and set them on top of the various men’s tunics, doublets, and pants before carrying them to the wagon.
Mama was checking over everything I had already brought out to ensure we had everything we needed. Even though I could make it to town in half an hour on horseback, pulling the wagon would take us much longer, so if we forgot something, we wouldn’t be going back for it.
She turned to me as I placed the last stack next to her, immediately noticing the pair of pants I added and picked them up.
“What are you doing with these?” she asked, trying her best to hide the judgment that showed all over her face.
“I am taking them to sell,” I said as if me bringing them to the wagon wasn’t obvious enough.
“Winnie, I don’t think—”
I cut her off. “I can sell them.” I hadn’t thought much about bringing them, but now that she said something, I saw it more as a challenge. I could sell them .
She nodded before closing the wagon door, careful to ensure the latch was in place, and heading to the front to sit next to Papa. I had considered riding with them, but the thought of being smashed on the small bench with the two of them for over an hour sounded terrible.
After they left, I went to the barn and readied Shadow for the trip. He was restless as I strapped the saddle to him, knowing it meant excitement was to come. At least he would have an eventful day of travel and finding new grass to eat.
Town was strict about what was allowed past the gates to keep the winding cobblestone streets in pristine condition. No horses and anything with wheels which left walking on foot and making several trips to the town square with everything you wanted to sell at Market from the gates. All of the streets led to the back where an even larger gate sat in front of the castle where the Joveryn King lived. I had grown to believe he was more of a fairy tale than an actual king. He stayed in his castle only giving orders to the Legion on how to execute things. And no one had ever seen him.
Though all paths led to the castle, I avoided that direction if I could. Because to the right of the large gate was where they persecuted the witches.
I had forgotten just how much I despised Market days. It didn’t take but a few customers to remind me.
The first one, a rather large lady in the most atrociously patterned dress I had ever seen, didn’t hide the fact that she was disappointed to see me in the place of my twin. I had no doubt that with his obsessive need to charm and please anyone, he would’ve told her that her dress was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. I, on the other hand, said nothing. Though I had no doubt that my face said enough.
The second one, an older witch from our coven, practically screamed when my hand brushed across hers when we reached for the same cloak. I can assure you, Genevieve Drotini, the one who uses her magic to cloak herself and lure younger men into her bed before sending them back to their wives reeking of perfume, the little bit of magic running through your veins would do nothing for me.
And the third one, as if the first two weren’t enough, was Lowen Reeves, a man my age that I had found myself kissing more times than I’d like to admit. Lowen was . . . uncomplicated, predictable even, and that was part of the problem. He was handsome, with his curly brown hair and deep blue eyes, and his easy smile made it far too simple to lose myself in fleeting moments of affection. But it was always just that—fleeting. For a time, his attention felt intoxicating, a distraction from the weight of everything else. Then it became suffocating, a reminder of the kind of life I wasn’t ready to live. I’d kiss him, let him touch me, and when his gaze started to hold too much hope, I’d push him away and ignore him for months. But no matter how many walls I built, Lowen always found his way back to me, like a persistent echo of something I wasn’t sure I could escape or embrace .
“What did your mother have to promise you for you to come to Market?” He smiled his perfect smile, the one that made a few young girls who stood close by giggle, and I had to force myself to smile back.
“Adar left for camp yesterday and her sulking did nothing but damper my mood. One day of helping her at Market seemed like the best way to bring her spirits up.”
His eyes drifted down my body, but before he could ask if he could walk me home after Market, I quickly turned and grabbed the pair of pants I had sewn.
“Here.” I shoved them into his hands. “I made these for you.” A small lie, but if anyone was going to buy the poor excuse of pants that I made, Lowen would.
“You made these for me?” His face lit up at the thought that I was thinking of him when I had been sure to avoid him for the past few months.
I placed my hand in front of him. “That will be ten coins.”
That should fix it.
He looked at me for a moment as if he was waiting for me to say I was joking, but I stood still and kept my hand extended. He reached into his pocket and grabbed a handful of coins, but before he could count out ten, I grabbed what I could and thanked him.
Another customer came—my mother’s stitching was always a popular item, but Lowen stood by and waited for me to finish with the customer.
With my first attempt clearly ineffective, I decided to try one more thing. “Do you think you could find me some of those sweet chocolates you got me for my birthday?”
“Oh, I don’t know. They are brought in on the ships during summer and usually sold only in the southern coastal villages.”
I poked my lip out, knowing exactly what I was doing. “I just really liked those,” I said as I reached over the table and grabbed his arm, “and I would be so happy if you got them for me again.”
His eyes widened before he quickly ran his fingers through his hair, trying to hide his reaction. “Then I will do my best to find them.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek before saying goodbye.
At least that will keep him away for a few days.
After Lowen, I had managed to scare off more customers than I sold to. Mainly because the familiar faces I saw, I didn’t like but Mama didn’t seem to care. She was just excited that I agreed to come.
Market was just as it was years ago when I came with Mama. The air was thick with the smell of roasted nuts, freshly baked bread, and a hint of leather from the cobblers’ stalls. Merchants shouted their wares, their voices weaving together into a chaotic symphony that made my head ache. Children darted between booths, their laughter mixing with the sharp clang of a blacksmith hammering metal in the distance. Every cobblestone seemed to hum with life, the town square pulsing like a living, breathing thing.
Until a face caught my attention and I completely stopped breathing.
Only a few feet away was the face that crept into my dreams and turned them into nightmares. Only now, his eyes were brown, with no trace of the red that once burned in them. His short, icy blonde hair was neatly combed, though a few strands had fallen out of place, making him look unsettlingly normal. His sharp jawline was more pronounced in the daylight, giving him an air of refinement. His clothes were simple but well-fitted—a plain cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up, tucked into dark trousers that looked worn but sturdy. His skin . . . it had more color, more life in it than the image engraved in my mind.
He looked . . . human .
He looked nothing like the monster in my nightmares, yet the way he carried himself, the subtle control in his movements, sent a chill down my spine.
I had to be hallucinating. Was he somehow able to haunt my reality now, too? He stood at the booth selling beeswax candles, but never took his eyes off of me. When he realized I saw him, he nodded to the candle maker and made his way to me.
I shoved the green dresses to the bottom of the stack, quickly moving things around to ensure there wasn’t any sign of them.
“Mama, I think I left the green dresses in the wagon, and Mary Simon just came by asking for one. Could you go get them?” I asked, trying to stay calm and hide the urgent need of getting her away from the booth as quickly as possible.
“Are you sure? It is a long walk, and I thought I saw you carrying them up here.”
He was only a few feet away now.
“Please, Mama.” This time, the shriek in my voice gave me away completely.
She looked at me concerned, but nodded. “Sure, Winnie,” she said.
The air at Market, once bustling and alive, felt stifling now, thick with the weight of his presence. My chest tightened as he approached, his movements smooth as silk. The clamor of merchants and townsfolk blurred into a distant hum, as if the world had narrowed to just the space between us. My breath hitched, and I gripped the edge of the table so tightly my knuckles turned white.
He reached our table and ran his long, slender fingers over a few shirts, pausing on one as if considering it. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. Then, with an almost careless flick of his wrist, he tossed it back onto the table, ruining the pile I had just folded .
Vampires couldn’t walk in sunlight. It was a fact I had clung to, a rule that had kept me sane. But here he was, standing in the midday sun, his skin glowing with the kind of vitality that mocked everything I thought I knew. My pulse raced, every instinct screaming at me to run, but my legs felt rooted in place, frozen by the sheer impossibility of it all.
When his eyes met mine, the familiar flash of malevolence sparked in them, and I knew. This wasn’t a hallucination or some cruel trick of my mind. It was him.
“Winnie, is it?” His voice slid through the chaos, smooth and sharp, cutting straight to me.
The sound of that name from his lips sent a shiver down my spine. My throat tightened, but I forced myself to speak. “Do not call me that,” I snapped, my voice trembling despite my effort to keep it steady.
His smile widened, and he tilted his head, the motion eerily predatory. “Oh, you prefer green eyes? My apologies.” The words dripped with mockery, each syllable like a taunt.
“What do you want?” I demanded, though my voice came out weaker than I intended.
He leaned forward, his hands braced on the table, his height towering over me.
“I’ve come to collect what is mine,” he said, his gaze dropping to my neck that I had purposely covered with a choker I made out of fabric to match my dress. His mouth parted slightly, and I could see the hunger flickering in his eyes, barely restrained.
My hand flew to my neck, instinctively covering the spot where the mark was. “I am not yours,” I hissed.
“Oh you’re not, are you?” His chuckle was low, almost a purr, and it sent chills racing down my spine. “Tell me, have I already crept into your dreams? Do you see my face the moment you close your eyes? Shall I add a name to the face you see? It’s August, and believe me when I say it will only get worse from here.”
“I could tell what you are,” I whispered.
His eyes widened and he smiled once again. “Yes, and I could breathe one word and have you hung before nightfall. What is it? W-w-wi—”
“Stop,” I said louder than I intended. I glanced around to ensure no one was looking our way.
He leaned forward. “Face it, Winnie .”
I gritted my teeth, digging my nails into the underside of the table, ignoring the pain as I scratched away, pushing splinters into my fingers.
“In no world will you be the one coming out of this alive,” he said softly. “But I am going to have so much fun dragging this out.”
A sliver of wood finally broke away, and I reached across the table and stabbed it into his hand.
He let out a sharp breath, but he didn’t move.
My confidence that had seemed to be lost in the moment of seeing a vampire out in broad daylight ripped through me once again. I leaned in close, to the point I knew the smell of my blood would have him questioning whether he could keep up with the public appearance he had somehow created.
“I can’t wait to watch you burn.”