7. CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVEN
R owan was on the verge of passing out, struggling to stay upright as Casimir led Cinnamon through the dense woods. They had been traveling for hours and it was clear they needed to find a place to stop for the night.
“Here.” Casimir gestured toward a decrepit structure that loomed ahead like an omen. “You need to rest.” His voice was laced with command, but an undertone of concern softened its edge.
The uninhabited shack looked like it could collapse from a gust of wind, its walls warped and roof sagging wearily. Weeds and vines grew over the structure, and its windows were broken, shards of glass littering the ground. Rowan was too exhausted to care about their less-than-ideal accommodations. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, her entire body was stiff and sore from the energy she’d expended. The sudden manifestation of her surprising abilities had depleted her more than she wanted to admit.
“Rest sounds heavenly,” she sighed.
Casimir carried her inside the shack and gently settled her onto one of their blankets before he faded into the shadows. He returned moments later with a plump rabbit dangling lifelessly in his grasp. A small streak of red adorned the corner of his mouth, and Rowan wondered how long animal blood could sustain him.
With deft movements, he sparked a fire, the flames casting dancing shadows across his sculpted features as he prepared a meal for her. The rabbit sizzled over the flame, filling the air with the mouth-watering smell of cooked meat. She watched him in silence, her brain reeling .
“If you can project your thoughts into my mind,” she said, “can you also read mine?”
His movements halted for a moment. He turned to look at her, his eyes reflecting the fire. The shadows seemed to gather around him, deepening his dark allure. He took a moment before replying, “No.”
“That’s . . . a relief,” she breathed out, closing her eyes for a second. When they fluttered open again, he was kneeling beside her, his gaze probing and intense.
“I can’t read your thoughts,” he said. “I can only project mine. It takes a lot of energy, so I only use it in extreme situations.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Her voice wavered between accusation and curiosity.
Casimir seemed to hesitate, but then shrugged casually. “I wasn’t hiding it from you. I use it so rarely that it didn’t seem relevant.”
A moment of silence passed between them, the only sounds coming from the crackling fire and the distant hoot of an owl.
Casimir took a shallow breath before speaking again. “I never anticipated how strongly my kind would react to you.” He scowled, and a muscle ticked in his jaw.
Rowan inwardly shivered at the memory of their hunger-filled gazes. “Why did they react that way?”
“Vampires respect age and power.” He skewered the rabbit to turn it over the fire. “I’m one of the oldest among them in this region. That alone should have been enough of a deterrent. Yet they coveted you as if I wasn’t there.” His gaze flicked to her. “It seems I’ve greatly underestimated the potency of your allure.”
“Allure?”
“From the moment we met, I sensed something about you that I couldn’t quite put my finger on,” he confessed, his eyes dropping to her face. “It’s like a part of you is calling to me, and it appears to be universal among my kind.”
Rowan’s chest tightened. “What exactly are you saying?”
Casimir sighed deeply, releasing his gaze from hers as if the mere act of looking at her were difficult. “You’re unlike any human I’ve ever encountered. You hold some sort of power . . . an intoxicating appeal for my kind. Something that seems to captivate us. But it’s not just physical attraction; it’s far more potent and primal than that. It’s as if you hold a piece of my lost soul inside you.”
Another raw silence descended upon them, making the world outside their shack seem far away .
“Just my luck,” Rowan said with resignation. “I’m a walking magnet for every blood-sucker in my vicinity.” She tried to hide her vulnerability with a layer of sarcasm, but it was still there, pulsing just below the surface.
Casimir watched her, his expression thoughtful as she ate the meal he’d provided. “There is a law among my kind.” His voice turned gruff. “One of possession and protection.”
“Go on,” she prompted warily between bites, sensing she might not like what he was about to reveal.
“To keep you safe from others who might covet you, I need to mark you as mine.”
She stared at him incredulously. “Mark me? I’m not some piece of property to be claimed.”
“Rowan,” he said firmly, reaching out but stopping short of touching her. “In my world, it’s our way to protect someone we care about.”
“By declaring ownership over them? That’s not happening.” She balled her fists tightly in the fabric of her dress. “I won’t be owned by anyone. Never again.”
“Just listen to me,” he said. “If another vampire harms someone who’s been claimed, the retribution is severe.” His features hardened with the threat of violence, a fierce yet alluring edge to his promise of protection.
“ Claimed .” The word was like poison on her tongue. “You mean, if they believe I’m your . . . what? Your property? Your lover?”
“More or less directly, aye.” He looked away from her as if ashamed of the barbarity of his kind. “But it’s not about claiming you as an object. You’re more than that to me.”
She glared at him. “What is it you’re asking of me?”
“I’m not asking to bite you. What I’m suggesting is that I use my saliva to mark you in a less intimate or invasive manner than my bite. It will keep you under my protection without being fully or permanently claimed.”
“Your saliva?” she said, dubious yet intrigued.
“It’s temporary, but still effective. It has properties that can heal injuries and will leave a trace of my scent on your skin that other vampires will detect.”
“Like a brand ,” she said dryly.
“More like weaving my essence with yours for a short time.” He shifted closer. His hand slowly rose, hovering near her face, but not touching her. “May I?”
Rowan hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. She couldn’t deny her desire for safety—or the curiosity that burned within her .
Casimir’s fingertips glided down her cheek to the delicate curve of her neck. His touch was feather-light and surprisingly gentle, sending a pleasant tingling sensation through her body. He gazed at her, silently asking for permission before proceeding.
“Okay,” she whispered.
He leaned in, his breath a teasing caress against her skin. “I’m going to touch you now.”
She felt his lips brushing against her neck, then the unexpected flick of his tongue, licking a path up to her earlobe. She pulled away slightly. The sensation was alien and electrifying, sending heat spiraling down to her core.
“Is this still okay?” he asked softly, his voice causing shivers to erupt all over her skin.
A hot blush settled over her cheeks. “Y-yes,” she managed, her breath hitching.
His scent filled her senses: earthy, woodsy, and intoxicating. As she gazed into his deep blue eyes, she noticed for the first time the small flecks of silver scattered throughout his irises that sparkled in the glow of the fire.
He tenderly pressed his lips against each of her minor injuries. She watched, fascinated, as each tiny cut sealed itself shut when he lapped his tongue over it. His touch was tender as he simultaneously healed her and marked her.
The caress of his tongue dulled the shooting pain in her muscles. It was still there, just under the surface, but a strange, electric pleasure made it more tolerable. Rowan couldn’t help but lean into him, her body responding instinctively to his touch.
She watched as another of her cuts disappeared before her eyes. “Remarkable,” she said, her eyes wide. “Your kind truly is fascinating.”
Casimir chuckled at her words. “I guess we have our moments.”
“You’re full of surprises, Sir Casimir Blackwood,” she teased playfully, feeling another jolt of pleasure as he healed a particularly sensitive spot behind her knee.
He smirked. “Life would be terribly dull otherwise.”
Rowan found herself admiring Casimir’s face, her eyes tracing the defined line of his jaw, his full lips, his long lashes, and his strong nose. He seemed both impossibly distant and uncomfortably close. A cool breeze slipped through the cracks in the window and her skin erupted with goosebumps. She shivered slightly, but not entirely due to the cold.
A small smile spread across her face. “We make a pretty good team,” she said, feeling stronger. It was as if Casimir’s touch was infusing her with vitality.
He looked at her, his gaze softening. “Aye. We do, don’t we? You showed the strength and bravery of a warrior tonight. You have more courage than you give yourself credit for. It isn’t very often that I meet a mortal who can hold their own against vampires. ”
“There’s something I’m struggling with about the fight.” Her eyes fell to the ground, unable to meet his piercing gaze. “I couldn’t kill the arch patriarch . . . I couldn’t deliver the final blow. And yet I killed that vampire without hesitation.”
“Your life was in immediate danger. Your instincts took over.” Leaning back, he studied her with an impassive expression. “You did what you had to do to survive.”
“I feel like I should be remorseful, but I’m not. I just feel relieved.”
“The fact that you don’t take any pleasure or satisfaction in killing, and only resort to it when there isn’t any other choice, shows you’re honorable and brave.” Casimir touched her face, tilting her chin up slightly so that their eyes met. “It’s not a weakness, but a strength.”
Rowan swallowed past the lump in her throat, struck by his words. She’d never considered herself honorable or brave. She was simply doing what had to be done to survive. But Casimir’s words ignited something in her. Validation? Pride? Whatever it was, it sent a surge of warmth spreading across her chest.
“You truly believe that?” she said, needing to hear it again.
“Aye. I do. I wouldn’t hesitate to fight by your side again.”
She wasn’t accustomed to being seen as anything other than weak and inferior by a man. In that moment, such faith and acceptance from Casimir was the most beautiful feeling she’d ever known.