10. CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER TEN
T he dirt roads of Ashbourne were heavily compacted from years of foot traffic. The village was situated a considerable distance from the kingdom’s quarries, so the homes had been built on thick wooden stilts, the structures made entirely out of sturdy pine beams and planks sourced from the nearby boreal forest.
The villagers moved with a sense of apprehension, constantly on alert for any potential threats. Despite the underlying sense of unease, the center of town was alive with a thriving farmer’s market.
“The Reaper’s spies could be hidden anywhere.” Casimir’s voice was a quiet rumble, sending shivers throughout her body from the point where his breath caressed her ear.
She inclined her head, taking in the huddle of locals in the town square, their words a muted buzz of discontent that prickled her skin. “It seems like he rules them through fear.”
Casimir scanned the perimeter with the sharp gaze of a wolf. Despite being centuries old, his dark eyes held a burning intensity that showed no signs of diminishing. “Power often festers into tyranny. We should try to blend in and gather information about any potential leads. But let’s be careful not to give away our presence to the Reaper’s spies. And stay within my line of sight at all times,” he added, a protective edge to his tone.
They maneuvered through the crowd, watching and listening closely. The market was a kaleidoscope of sights and smells. Wooden crates overflowed with brightly hued produce, while stalls proudly showcased handcrafted goods. The air was a delightful mixture of fragrant spices and herbs, and the earthy scent of leather products .
Casimir led Rowan toward a group of men huddled around an ale stand, their voices gruff with distrust as they argued heatedly. A jolt of anxiety shot through Rowan, but she smoothed her expression into one of casual interest.
“Good day. Blessed be the Exalted Ones,” Casimir said smoothly as they approached.
The men eyed them cautiously. They were rough-looking individuals: sun-tanned and hardened by labor, with thick beards and calloused hands. Their eyes held the telltale marks of hardship that was all too common here.
“Blessed be,” one of them responded cautiously, after what felt like an eternity.
“We’re travelers,” Casimir continued, his dark eyes warm and his smile disarming. “Recently arrived and hoping to learn more about Ashbourne.”
The men exchanged wary glances before one, a burly man with an unruly brown beard and scarred knuckles, sneered. “Not much to know. We live, we work, we fear what lurks in the dark.” His gaze flicked to Rowan for a prolonged moment before returning to Casimir.
Casimir’s eyes narrowed slightly at his interest in Rowan. “And what is it that you fear?” he probed.
The burly man took a long draught from his ale, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before responding. “Folks have a habit of disappearing ‘round here once the sun sets. They go out at night and don’t come back.”
“Any idea who . . . or what is behind these disappearances?” Casimir asked, his tone casual despite the tense line of his jaw.
The men shared another uneasy look before one, a wiry old man with a weathered face, spoke up. “Some claim there are creatures lurking in the shadows of the forest . . . things not of this world.”
“What kind of creatures?” Rowan asked, discreetly scanning the nearby woods.
“We’ve said more than enough already,” another laborer joined in, a middle-aged man with a deep scowl. “Buy your drinks and be gone if you know what’s good for you, eh?”
The others grumbled in agreement.
Casimir and Rowan exchanged a silent glance before walking away. They wouldn’t be getting any more information from these men.
“They know more than they’re letting on,” Rowan whispered.
Casimir nodded, his brow furrowed slightly as he mulled over the reaction to their presence. “Yes, but we’ve already stirred up enough suspicion. Let’s try a less direct approach next time. ”
As they left the market behind, they found themselves walking past a grand stone hall. It was the only stone building they had seen in the village so far. Imposing and ancient, it rose high above the other buildings of Ashbourne.
Outside the hall doors, an arch patriarch, wearing ostentatious red velvet clothes, lectured feverishly about the Brotherhood’s warped views on gender roles and societal values. Holding a worn leather-bound book in his gnarled hands, he yelled into the crowd, his face flushed and contorted. “Women,” he bellowed, “are born to be subservient and follow the will of the man of the house. Submit to the teachings of the Exalted Ones or face damnation.”
Rowan watched him warily as they walked by. She noticed how people shuffled anxiously around him, avoiding his accusing gaze, while others bowed their heads in shame or fear.
“The Brotherhood controls through propaganda, intolerance, and the threat of punishment,” Casimir said under his breath. “Not much different from the Reaper, if you think about it.”
Rowan nodded and quickened her pace. She wanted to get away from the influence of the Brotherhood as soon as possible.
As they walked through the village, muted whispers fluttered around them like dark-winged moths drawn to a flame. The gloomy atmosphere kept Rowan on edge as they searched for potential leads. They continued past an old pub, the smell of northern beer mixing with a damp scent that clung to the buildings. A group of men stood outside, sharing stories and laughter, but it didn’t take long for Rowan to notice how quickly their voices lowered when she and Casimir approached. Eyes followed them suspiciously, and her stomach tightened at the fear etched on their faces.
They needed to tread lightly if they were going to find out any information about the Reaper’s defenses.
Amid the crowd, a woman appeared as if materializing from a dream. Her ebony hair flowed in gentle waves, framing a face that seemed capable of coaxing secrets from the lips of saints and sinners alike.
“Casimir, my favorite nocturnal visitor.” She sashayed toward them with mischief glinting in her violet eyes. “I’ve got plenty to trade, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
Casimir’s gaze locked onto hers, an unspoken history crackling between them like static. The corner of his mouth tilted upward. “Vivian. ”
She approached and planted a kiss on his cheek, her painted lips leaving behind a berry-colored stain. “It’s been too long,” she purred, her fingers tracing an intimate path down his chest.
“Aye.” He delicately detached himself from her touch. His gaze flicked briefly to Rowan, who was watching the exchange with a guarded expression.
Vivian glanced over, too. Despite being around the same height, she somehow managed to look down her nose at Rowan. “Such . . . distinct hair,” she said, less a compliment than an underhanded insult.
Casimir’s smile faltered, his eyes darting between the two women. “Are you still selling secrets?” he asked Vivian, glancing around for prying eyes.
“Only when it benefits me,” Vivian said. “Perhaps our motives are aligned?”
Rowan’s dislike of the woman was immediate and strong. But she pushed her feelings aside. They were here for answers, and it appeared that Vivian could give them.
“Perhaps,” Casimir said. “We’re looking for knowledge about a certain nearby castle’s vulnerabilities. What’s your price for information and discretion?”
“All I ask is a small sum.” Vivian tilted her head and fluttered her lashes flirtatiously. “Just five gold Primes and I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
Rowan’s thoughts raced as she considered the woman’s proposal. Every gut instinct urged caution, but the chance to gain an edge against the Reaper was too tempting to dismiss. It could determine their success or failure.
After a moment of contemplation, Casimir spoke. “We agree to your terms. I’ll pay your steep price, and in return, you’ll tell us what you know.”
Vivian’s voice exuded pleasure as she placed her hand possessively on Casimir’s arm. “How delightful! Our alliance is sealed. Now, let’s move to a more discreet location to discuss our deliciously dark deed.”
They retreated into an alleyway, and Rowan couldn’t shake the feeling that they had just struck a deal with a serpent.
Vivian’s delicate hand trailed up and down Casimir’s arm, her nails lightly scraping against his skin in a way that made Rowan tense. He remained impassive, his glacial blue eyes locked on Vivian’s face as they huddled close together, seemingly oblivious to Rowan’s presence. She bit her lip, trying to contain her emotions.
“Now, then.” Vivian leaned in closer, flicking her long raven hair over her shoulder and peering up at Casimir through her thick lashes. “You want to know about the Reaper’s castle and its formidable defenses. ”
They spoke in hushed tones, leaving Rowan out of the conversation. She tried not to bristle at every touch and flirtatious glance Vivian gave Casimir.
“He has a large number of vampire guards patrolling his fortress,” Vivian explained, “but there’s a hidden entrance through the sewer system to the east. It leads directly into the dungeons.” A diabolical smile spread across her face. “Once inside, you’ll have to navigate through the back stairwell to his chambers on the upper level. You’ll know exactly which door leads to his room when you see its extravagant design.” She licked her lips as if savoring the thought of such luxury.
Casimir cleared his throat, his tone becoming more direct. “Do we need to be aware of anything else?”
Vivian’s voice took on a seductive quality. “Just that I could use a drink and the company of a handsome man.”
A surge of something dangerous twisted in Rowan’s gut, a coldness that seeped into her bones. Her hands balled into tight fists, her nails digging into her palms. She had to remind herself that Vivian had just given them crucial information. Taking a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, she focused on relaxing the tension in her body.
“Come on, then. Let’s get you that drink and we can catch up,” Casimir said with a warm smile.
Together, they walked back toward the Iron Goat pub. The twilight sky had turned a stunning shade of red, and a gentle breeze carried the sounds of hushed voices and crickets chirping.
The drinking establishment was filled with smoke from burning pipes and the yeasty aroma of freshly brewed beer. As they entered, a tall, lanky man with a bald head and crooked nose approached them. He wore an apron stained with various shades of red and brown. “What can I get for you three tonight?” he said brusquely.
Vivian leaned her head against Casimir’s shoulder coyly, her long hair brushing against his chest. “Three mugs of your strongest brew, if you please.”
Rowan couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Casimir placed a calming hand on her shoulder before she could voice her irritation, then handed a few copper Primes to the barkeep.
The trio found a corner table near a crackling fireplace where they could sit in relative privacy and warmth. As they waited for their drinks, Rowan listened to the sounds of laughter and drunken singing coming from the other side of the room. Her mind fixated on how close Vivian was sitting to Casimir, her leg brushing against his. A pang of envy stabbed at her chest. He seemed so comfortable with Vivian, as if he had known her for years.
Their drinks arrived, served by the lanky man with the gruff demeanor. Rowan took a large gulp from her tankard, hoping it would dull the ache in her sternum, but it only seemed to make things worse as Vivian shamelessly touched and flirted with Casimir.
Rowan sat quietly, sipping her beer, her heart sinking further into her boots with each swallow. There was something about Vivian that made her feel uneasy; she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Her eyes were too shrewd, almost hawkish, as she leaned in to whisper something in Casimir’s ear.
Rowan glowered as the other woman traced circles on Casimir’s forearm with her fingertip. Vivian’s brightly painted nails contrasted starkly against his bronze skin tone. It was obvious she was trying to make a point. The sounds of their voices and playful teasing were hushed against the noise of the pub, making it hard for Rowan to concentrate on what they were saying. It was like watching two people who shared a secret language that she didn’t quite understand.
Rowan fiddled uncomfortably with the embroidered sleeve of her dress. She felt like an outsider looking in; like she didn’t belong at this table anymore.
In a burst of frustration, she slammed her tankard down, startling her companions, who turned to look at her.
“I need to use the privy,” she stated brusquely before charging off to be alone with her thoughts.
“How terribly rude.”
Vivian’s voice dripped with disdain as her gaze trailed after Rowan. Casimir stood up, ready to follow, but Vivian halted him.
“Don’t chase after her. You’ve both had a long journey. Your friend just needs some time and space.”
Casimir hesitated, unsure of what to do.
“A woman can sense these things. It’s best to just leave her be, and not aggravate the situation.” She leaned in closer, practically sitting on his lap. Tilting her head to the side, Vivian exposed the pale expanse of her neck .
Casimir couldn’t help but focus on how close her throat was to his lips, and the steady pulse beating there. “Vivian,” he said slowly, his voice cautious, “there’s something you need to know about my condition.”
“Your vampirism?” Her eyes gleamed with fascination rather than fear. “I’ve always found it rather enthralling.”
“Then you’ll understand my need for strength. To embark on such a dangerous journey, I require sustenance.”
“I completely understand.” Vivian’s voice dropped to a sultry whisper as she boldly took hold of his hand. “Follow me. I have a secluded spot in mind.”
Giving a subtle nod to the barkeeper, she led Casimir to a storage room tucked away in a dimly lit corner. The man returned her nod with a knowing smirk on his face while he poured another customer a pint. Casimir hesitated for a moment, but his fangs had already extended in anticipation. He couldn’t focus on anything except the beat of Vivian’s pulse as she closed the door with a soft click before pressing herself against him.
“Such intimacy has always held an allure for me.” She tilted her head once more to expose the elegant line of her neck.
“It’s intimate out of necessity,” he corrected. “Nothing more.”
She let out a sultry sigh and lifted onto her toes, making her throat even more enticing. Casimir couldn’t resist the invitation, and he gently grazed her pulse point with his fangs, causing her to moan with pleasure.
Standing alone, Rowan was practically vibrating with her shifting emotions, from jealousy to insecurity to outright anger. She couldn’t believe Vivian would treat her with such disregard, and that Casimir would allow it. It was infuriating. Although they had only known each other for a fortnight, their relationship had rapidly blossomed after saving each other’s lives and spending every waking minute together. Despite him never having shown any romantic interest in Rowan, she had begun to develop a secret longing for something more between them. At the very least, she wished he wouldn’t treat her like an unwelcome intruder.
She felt inexperienced and inadequate. What can I possibly offer a two-hundred-year-old vampire? Especially compared to someone as stunning and self-assured as Vivian. As she spiraled into self-doubt, fat tears rolled down her face. Gnawing on her lower lip, she berated herself for ever thinking that Casimir could have feelings for someone as broken and useless as her.
But she wasn’t one to stay down for long. She furiously swiped away her tears with her sleeve. Self-pity wasn’t her style and never had been. She was a survivor, a fighter, and too stubborn to let her feelings defeat her.
Rowan considered the possibility that perhaps Casimir was simply trying not to offend Vivian. After all, she held valuable information, and while he hadn’t rejected her advances, he hadn’t encouraged them either. Also, Rowan might not be as beautiful as Vivian, but she had always been told she had qualities that set her apart. Qualities like courage, loyalty, and resilience.
Feeling slightly uplifted, Rowan returned to the pub and looked for her companions, only to find their table empty. Worried, she scanned the room, but didn’t spot them anywhere.
As she walked around the pub, she caught the sound of a woman’s low moans emanating from behind a closed door. A cold, hard weight formed in the pit of her stomach when she realized what must have happened.
Sucking in a deep breath, she steeled herself for what she was about to discover, and hesitantly opened the door.
Rowan stood frozen, unable to look away from the scene in front of her—Casimir’s mouth pressed against Vivian’s supple skin, his arms holding her firmly. Vivian writhed against him, her eyes closed in a rapture that bordered on the erotic, her lips parted in pleasure.
Rowan fought back tears, her vision blurring. All she could hear was the sound of her screaming thoughts.
“More, Casimir,” Vivian whimpered as she arched against him.
“That’s enough,” Casimir said firmly, ending their embrace with a gentle push. He stepped back, seemingly unaware of the devastation he had left in his wake.
Finally, he noticed Rowan standing in the doorway.
“Rowan?” His voice held genuine concern.
She couldn’t respond. She couldn’t even move. Cora’s warnings about vampires echoed in her mind, reminding her of their selfish and manipulative nature.
Casimir stepped toward her. “Let me explain—”
“What’s there to explain? It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” Rowan’s words were knives, each one laced with hurt and anger .
“You misunderstand the situation.”
“Stay away from me.” With fresh tears clouding her vision, she spun around, slamming into a drunken patron in her haste to escape.
“Rowan—”
She refused to stop. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at him.
The now-deserted streets bore witness to her heartbreak. Her long hair whipped behind her as she ran. She’d been foolish to get her hopes up and believe that something genuine was forming between them.
“Please just listen.” Casimir’s voice cut through the chilly air, desperate and pleading.
Rowan paused, her breath coming in gasps from the exertion of running. Each word from his lips was like a physical blow to her, shaking her resolve. She turned to look at him, her face scrunched in defiance.
“You’re going to tell me I have no right to be upset, aren’t you?” she said, her voice laced with venom. “It’s clear to me now that you see me as just some naive girl. An unwelcome obligation.”
“It’s not like that and you know it.” A pained expression creased his usually impassive features. “I feed to survive, to protect us both. What happened with Vivian was necessary.”
“Feeding on someone while they’re practically humping your leg and moaning with pleasure doesn’t seem very necessary to me.”
“Damn it! It’s just blood. There’s no emotion in it—it’s sustenance, nothing more,” Casimir growled, tension visibly seeping through his body, stiffening his shoulders and compressing his lips into a thin line.
“Then why do I feel like this?” Her voice cracked, revealing the raw vulnerability beneath her anger. “Why does it feel like betrayal?”
Casimir winced. “Because you don’t understand my nature.”
“Or maybe I understand it too well,” she said, her tone bitter. “You’ve hidden your past from me, kept secrets. How can I trust anything you say?” She paused to catch a breath before continuing. “And even if what you’re saying is true, it’s hardly any better. It just means that you see humans as chattel, just another meal to satisfy your hunger.”
“Rowan, I—”
She held up a hand. “Save it. I have no interest in hearing lies or excuses.”
Casimir flinched and took a step back as if she had struck him. “All right.” His manner became cold and distant. “If that’s what you believe, I won’t impose myself on you anymore. ”
His words were like knives stabbing her chest. Rowan could only watch in silence as he turned away, his silhouette blending into the night. All that remained was her racing thoughts and the painful realization that the connection she’d felt growing between them had been nothing more than a beautifully woven illusion.
As Casimir’s form grew smaller and smaller, she slumped her shoulders, defeat bearing down on her. After several long moments of staring off into the distance, Rowan shook her head, trying to dispel the cloud of emotions threatening to choke her.
Damn it . Remember why you’re here.
She knew she needed Casimir’s strength and supernatural abilities if she was going to survive what lay ahead. With a deep breath, she swallowed her pride and yelled out, “Casimir.”
He paused, but didn’t turn around. His stance remained as still and rigid as a statue.
“I . . . I can’t do this without you.” Her voice came out soft and laden with vulnerability. “Whether we like it or not, we’re in this together.”
Casimir turned to face her, his expression unreadable. “Together,” he said, as if the word were poison.
“We still have a mission.” It physically pained Rowan to have to ask for help when it felt like there was a gaping wound in her chest. She stomped down on all the uncomfortable emotions threatening to drown her. “The locket will help you take down the Reaper and get me the answers I need.”
“Fine,” he said tersely, bridging the space between them in a few short strides.
They walked beside each other, maintaining a careful distance. The silence hung heavy between them, filled with the shattered remnants of her feelings.