Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
JULIET
W hen I wake, I’m in an unfamiliar room. Floating orbs of golden light are suspended throughout the space. They provide just enough illumination that I’m able to make out my surroundings.
The haze of sleep clings to me like a thick fog. I’m lying on a large four-poster bed covered in thick fur blankets, with heavy green drapes tied to each post. A row of floor to ceiling windows lines the far wall, covered with thick, green velvet curtains. To the left is a massive fireplace, a fire burning in the hearth.
This must be Valaric’s home.
I try to push myself up, but I feel too weak. He said I’d be tired and need to rest as my body heals. He wasn’t lying. It feels as though I’m weighted down by a bone-deep fatigue.
A low and guttural roar echoes through the walls, and I jerk up to sitting, my heart pounding. A wave of dizziness washes over me and I fall back on the bed.
Closing my eyes, I hold my breath, straining to listen. Maybe it’s nothing. Perhaps I’m dreaming.
A deep, rolling growl cuts through the silence. It’s distant, muted, but unmistakable. Like something ancient and monstrous raging in the depths of the seven hells.
I place my hand over my chest. My heart races beneath my palm, but something else rises inside me. An emotion, no—a force .
It's wild, visceral, consuming. It tears at the edges of my mind, burning in my veins. It’s an unrelenting pull—a primal desperation to reach something or someone that I cannot name or reach.
Another roar reverberates through the walls, amplifying the foreign emotions swirling in my chest and clawing at my mind. I feel as if I’m drowning in someone else’s despair, their anguish bleeding into me.
I don’t know where it’s coming from, but I know with certainty it’s not mine.
My pulse thunders in my ears as I listen for the sound again, half-expecting a monster to burst through the door. Every instinct tells me to get up and run, but my muscles refuse to obey. Panic rises in my throat, but I force it down, my breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.
My mind grasps for explanations, but I’m too drained to trust my senses or to think clearly.
This must be a dream.
Another roar echoes through the walls, but this time it’s more muted. The strange emotions within me begin to fade.
I struggle to remain conscious, but exhaustion pulls me under like quicksand. My eyelids flutter shut as I slip back into the darkness of sleep.
The sound of humming pulls me back into awareness, and I open my eyes to see a woman placing a tray of food on the small table at the foot of my bed, near the fireplace.
“Oh, you’re awake.” She smiles. “I’ve brought you something to eat.”
I’m still a bit groggy as I sit up and carefully swing my legs over the side of the bed. I’m dressed in only my nightshift. The last thing I remember is falling asleep in the carriage and then my strange nightmare. And although I know we are married, I’m not quite sure how I feel about the idea of Valaric dressing me while I was unconscious.
“I’m Elsie Wolfstark.” The woman dips into a small curtsey. “It is lovely to meet you, Lady Greyvale. How are you feeling? Did you sleep well?”
Pointed ears stick up through her peppered brown hair that’s tied in a bun at the top of her head. She flashes a grin, revealing two rows of sharp, white fangs that would probably be more disconcerting if not for the warmth in her silver eyes.
“I’m still a bit tired, but all right.” A shudder runs through me as I recall my dream. “I had such a terrible nightmare.”
Elsie goes still, her entire body tensing briefly. It’s subtle, but I notice. “What was it about?”
“I dreamed there was a monster. It was enraged and roaring so loudly, I was afraid it was going to come for me.”
“Well, that sounds awful. Dreams can be strange like that, though.” She snaps her fingers, and the floating lights in the room grow brighter. “Here you go.” She hands me a robe. “You can wear this over your nightshift while you eat. I hope you don’t mind, but I changed you out of your dress when you first arrived. That way you could sleep comfortably.”
While I’m glad to know my new husband wasn’t the one to undress me, I wonder where he is. I’m about to ask, but she changes the subject. “My son, Eben, told me he met you. When you’re feeling better, I’d love to introduce you to the rest of my pack.”
“Your pack?”
“Aye.” She smiles brightly. “My daughter, Ava, her mate, Cole, and their little daughter, Kaely, also live here. Congratulations on your wedding, by the way.”
“Thank you.”
I stand and pull the robe around my shoulders, tying it securely around my waist, before Elsie guides me to the small table and chairs near the fireplace.
“Lord Greyvale wasn’t sure what you might like, so I brought you a bit of everything.” She gestures to a platter of fruit, cheese, dried meat, and bread. “After you’ve eaten, perhaps you might want to tour the castle.”
Castle? Given his title of Lord, I assumed Valaric had an estate, but I never imagined it would be anything quite so grand.
She moves to the window and pulls back two layers of thick curtains. Soft moonlight spills into the room. If it’s already night again, I must have slept much longer than I thought. “How long have I been asleep?”
“Three days.”
I sputter into my cup. “Three days?”
“Aye.” She moves to my trunk and flips it open, pulling out a dress and a pair of slippers. “Lord Greyvale is going to be so upset that he wasn’t here when you awakened. The poor man. I’ve never seen him in such a state of worry before. He’s hardly left your bedside since you arrived.”
“He hasn’t?”
“Aye. I finally convinced him to go lie down.” She shrugs. “Well, it wasn’t really convincing, per se. It was more that I added a bit of elyrian root into his tea, you know.”
My eyes widen. “You drugged him?”
“Heavens, no.” She chuckles. “I simply gave him something to help him sleep. That’s all.”
My lips part in surprise. I’m not quite sure how that’s any different from drugging him, but apparently, she believes there is some sort of distinction.
“Aren’t you worried he’ll be mad when he wakes up? Knowing that you”—I hesitate, unsure how to put this delicately before finally deciding upon—“gave him something that knocked him out?”
She waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, I expect he’ll be a bit upset and all that, but he’ll get over it. It was an accident. For most people, elyrian root has a mild calming effect. I had no idea it’d knock him flat on his back. Besides, what else was I supposed to do? Those dark circles under his eyes were beginning to look like bruises.”
I stare at her in shock. This woman is either insane or very brave to not fear incurring the wrath of a Vampire.
“The sun set several hours ago, so I imagine he should be awake soon.” She gestures to a door across the way. “The cleansing room is through that door when you’re ready to bathe. I’ll come back to check on you soon.”
Before I can ask anything else, she’s already gone.
A soft knock on the door draws my attention. “Come in,” I call out, expecting it to be Elsie, only to discover it’s Lord Greyvale.
He stands in the doorway, tall and commanding. My heart skips a beat, and for a moment, I forget how to form words. His eyes are like glowing red embers as they meet mine.
“Lord Greyvale,” I stammer, my voice a bit higher than I intended. Heat rises in my cheeks as I stand to greet him. “I mean, Valaric. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, voice low and rich like velvet. “I can leave if you—”
“No,” I blurt out, wincing inwardly at how awkward I sound. “No,” I repeat, softer this time, trying to find some semblance of composure. “You may come in.”
The air seems to shift as he steps inside, and nervous flutters start in my chest.
I cannot deny that he is handsome. His broad shoulders taper into a narrow waist. He’s dressed in a black tunic and pants that accentuate his lean, muscular form. His wings are tucked close to his back, and he moves with a preternatural grace.
He’s taller than any human I’ve ever seen, and I’m not sure if it’s his size or the way he holds himself, but there’s something about him so inherently powerful that it makes the room feel smaller, more intimate.
He pauses when he reaches the table. “How are you feeling?”
“A bit tired,” I admit. “But otherwise fine.”
His crimson eyes sweep over me, assessing. Concern flickers there, but it’s quickly masked by an impassive expression.
“I’m surprised that I’m tired. Elsie said I slept for three days.”
“Elsie,” he says her name in a low rumbling growl as he narrows his eyes.
Worry fills me. Oh gods, I hope she’s not in trouble for giving him a sleeping draught. She’s been so kind to me, I don’t want to see her fired or worse. “She’s very nice,” I add, trying to redirect his foul mood.
“And very cunning,” he grumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She slipped something into my tea that put me to sleep.”
“She said she didn’t realize it would knock you out,” I offer. I don’t want him to be angry with her, so I change the subject. “She also said you stayed with me while I was unconscious.”
“You slept so deeply, I was… concerned for you. I stayed as long as I could.”
I’m not quite sure what to make of that last sentence, but I love that he cared enough to even stay by my side in the first place, no matter how short or how long. A faint smile crests my lips as I gesture to the empty chair beside me. “Would you care to sit with me awhile?”
Something akin to surprise flits briefly across his expression. “You are not afraid of me?”
Doubt begins to creep in. “Should I be?”
“I suppose it depends upon your fear,” he replies soberly. “You are my wife, and I would never harm you, but I must still partake of your blood regularly.”
Crimson eyes drop to my neck, and dread coils within. I’ve never had a high tolerance for pain, and I imagine being pierced by a set of fangs will not be pleasant. “How often? And how much?”
“Every three days. But only enough to sustain me. Nothing further.”
Subconsciously, I raise my hand to my neck, swallowing hard. I know it’s part of our bargain, but I still have to ask. “Can you not take from lesser creatures? Deer and such?”
“Hunting satisfies the worst of my hunger, but I must still have human blood regularly.”
I want to ask why, but worry stills my tongue as his gaze returns to my neck again, his pupils dilating until only a thin rim of crimson is barely visible around the edges.
His nostrils flare. “I can scent your fear. But I promise I will be gentle and will take no more than I need.”
Although his words are probably meant to be reassuring, they are anything but.
I lean away, and he blinks several times as if coming back to himself, his eyes returning to their normal red coloring. “Forgive me,” he murmurs. “It has been three days since I have partaken of any sustenance. And the instinct to claim you is more difficult to suppress than I anticipated.”
Heat floods my cheeks as he speaks of claiming me. Mother did her best to explain what happens on a wedding night between a husband and wife, but I still feel so woefully unprepared. I look down at my hands. “You must forgive my nerves. I’m afraid I’ve no experience with any of this.”
Valaric steps closer. He places two claw-tipped fingers under my chin, tilting my face up to his. “You would apologize to a Vampire?”
“I would apologize to my husband ,” I correct, meeting his gaze evenly. “I don’t know why you chose me when I’m sure there are others you could have helped. But I am grateful that you did. And I would like to repay your kindness with my own.”
His gaze holds mine, something hidden in their depths that I cannot quite discern.
I take a step closer, but my knees give out and I stumble forward. Strong arms wrap around my waist, keeping me upright.
Heat flares my cheeks as Valaric gently brushes the hair back from my face, studying me in concern. Gently, he sets me back in the chair. “You should eat something. You are still weak.”
“Thank you,” I murmur.
“I wanted to return this to you.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out my pearl necklace.
My fingers brush against his as I take it, noting the chain is no longer broken. My throat tightens. This was the last thing my father gave me before he died. “You fixed it,” I murmur, my heart swelling with gratitude.
He nods as his piercing gaze holds mine. “It was important to you.”
Tears sting the back of my eyes as I study the flawless repair. I’m so touched by his thoughtfulness. “How did you manage to fix this so quickly?”
“I used my magic.”
I didn’t realize Vampires had powers like this. Unfastening the clasp, I hold it out to him. “Will you please help me put it on?”
I lift my hair out of the way as he gently drapes it around my neck. I’d always heard that Vampires could be burned by silver, but he doesn’t seem to have any problems touching it.
Once it’s fastened, I rest my hand over the small gray pearl. I look up at him, a smile cresting my lips. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” My voice quavers. “I cannot thank you enough.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but someone knocks on the door. “May I come in?” I recognize Eben’s voice.
“Yes,” I call out.
Eben walks inside. “Juliet,” he says warmly. “I’m glad to see that you’re awake.” His gaze shifts to Valaric and he grins. “Mind if I borrow that husband of yours?”
“What is it?” Valaric asks.
“I found an area where the wards need strengthening. I thought you might want to know.”
Valaric nods and then glances back at me. “I must go, but I’ll find you when I’m done.”
I nod, already looking forward to speaking with him again.
After I’m finished with my meal, I bathe and dress. I’ve heard Vampires can accumulate large amounts of wealth, owing to their immortal existence, but I wonder just how well off my new husband is. My stepfather is among the wealthier Lords of the kingdom of Aralon, and even we did not live in such luxury as this.
The cleansing room is almost as large as the bedroom, with running hot and cold water—that I assume must be the result of some sort of magic—and a claw foot tub big enough for at least two people.
When I walk back into the bedroom, I find Elsie waiting for me. “I’ve started unpacking your things.” She smiles. “And I already hung your wedding gown in the wardrobe. It’s such a lovely dress. I’m sure you’ll want to save it for your own daughter someday.”
The thought of a child makes me remember the tea my mother packed for me. She said I’ll need to drink it daily to prevent conception. I’ve always wanted children, but not right away. I would prefer to get to know my new husband a bit better first.
Elsie hums to herself as she digs through my trunk. She pulls out the wooden box that I thought I’d buried beneath so many layers of clothing no one would ever find it but me. “What’s this?”
I could explain that inside are my most prized possessions. It’s nearly three-hundred pages of adventure and romance. The manuscript I’ve been writing for the past three months. Or as my stepfather and Jonathan always referred to it: my “rather eccentric and ridiculous hobby.”
Instead, I gesture to the table beside me. “If you could please place it here, I’ll go through it later.”
I’m glad when she doesn’t ask any more questions about it. I really don’t want to have to explain my passion, only to have someone else chastise me for “wasting my time.”
She sets the box down on the table and then eyes my dress. “Lord Valaric asked me to take your dresses into town next time we go for supplies to have the clothier sew the Greyvale House Sigil into your clothing. Don’t you worry,” she adds. “I’ll ask them to make it prominent to signify you aren’t bloodsworn .”
“Bloodsworn?”
“A kinder term used for those who are indebted to a Vampire—bound to serve,” she explains. “Like blood wives , blood servants , and such.”
Ah. I’m familiar with those terms. Although Valaric said I am more than a blood wife, I still wince inwardly at the mention of the word.
She grins. “Lord Greyvale has taken you as his true wife. A prominent sigil on your clothing will help make you status clear to everyone who sees you.”
Back home, only those among the upper nobility had a House Sigil. Unless things are drastically different in vampiric society, Valaric must be of high standing indeed to possess one.
“What is his House Sigil?”
“ Your House Sigil, Lady Greyvale,” Elsie says pointedly, reminding me that it is now mine as well, “is a black rose against a silver moon.”
“Are there any other members of House Greyvale?”
“It is only him and Lord Damar.”
I’m about to ask who Lord Damar is, but as I glance around the room, only now do I realize that I have no idea where I am, aside from the fact that this is Valaric’s home. “Where exactly is this castle located?”
“We’re in the Obsidian Mountains of Morrowynd. The town of Corvania is a little over an hour’s ride down the road from Greyvale Castle, at the base of the mountain.”
“Corvania?” I ask incredulously. “But that’s at least a week’s journey from my parents’ home. I thought you said I only slept for three days.”
“Aye, you did, but Lord Valaric used a portal for travel.”
My jaw goes slack. “I thought those were myths.”
“I used to believe that too.” She grins. “Apparently, Incubi are able to conjure such things and Lord Valaric has one that is indebted to him. He asked him to prepare the portal as soon as the blood witch sent word of you.”
While it’s rather exciting to learn that portals are real, my stomach knots as I consider the rest of her statement. “My husband has those who are”—I pause, trying to recall the correct term before finally remembering—“ bloodsworn to him?”
“You misunderstand,” Elsie says. “Aerlyx—the Incubus I speak of—is not bloodsworn. He considers himself indebted to Lord Greyvale for some reason or other.” A thoughtful look crosses her face. “You know, I’m not quite sure I’ve ever heard the story on that one, now that I think of it.”
My concern dissipates immediately, but I still have so many questions. “Do all Vampires use portals?”
She shakes her head. “Most use the Dark Gates . They’re like portals, but at fixed locations.. They were created by the—” Her explanation is cut short by the high-pitched wail of a child, echoing down the hallway.
Elsie turns to me with an apologetic look. “I’d best go check on my granddaughter. My daughter has her hands full with little Kaely. She’s four years old, you see. That’s the age where the fangs start coming in for our kind, and it can be quite painful. I’ll be sure to introduce you to them later, when Kaely’s in better spirits. Will you be all right if I leave you for a bit?”
“Of course.”
She heads for the door, glancing over her shoulder as she steps out into the hallway. “While I’m gone, you might want to explore the gardens. They’re lovely. Even this time of year. There’s access from your balcony, but don’t forget your cloak. It’s still a bit cold out there.”
I think she’s gone, but then she pokes her head in the door again. “Oh, and one more thing. If you decide to explore the castle, be sure to avoid the west wing.”
“Why?”
“That part of the castle is in a state of disrepair. The floors are a bit unstable and such.” She flashes another smile. “I’ll come back for you as soon as I can.”
When I step outside, the crisp scent of winter fills my nostrils. A cool breeze whispers across my skin as snow flurries catch in my hair and cloak. Moonlight spreads across the snow-covered grounds below, dipping the landscape in silver.
A fine layer of powdery snow covers every surface of the balcony. Carefully, I pick my way down the narrow, curving set of stairs until I reach the gardens below. My muscles still feel a bit weak, but I don’t want to go back to my room. Not yet. I’d much rather explore.
The grounds are a maze of meandering paths and frozen streams. They are lined with pine trees, their branches laden with snow, and tall unruly bushes, covered in vibrant and glowing red roses as big as my fist. Vines cascade over the courtyard walls, their tiny white flowers twinkling like captured starlight.
I suspect these flowers are the result of an enchantment for them to grow like this during the winter. It’s so lovely out here. Like a magical garden straight out of a fairy tale.
Snow crunches beneath my shoes as I walk along the main path. The ice-covered stream beside it shimmers like liquid silver cut through the earth. It leads to a large, three-tiered fountain of frozen water with icicles hanging from each level.
It’s beautiful out here, and I can already imagine myself spending many hours wandering along the various walkways and planting vegetables in the spring.
I trace my fingers over the softly glowing petals of a red rose. There is magic here in the untamed growth of this place, as if it has been given the opportunity to thrive and claim the space all around it. A garden not planted or made, but rather, allowed to become.
The soft nicker of a horse comes from the stables at the end of the path. It’s a large stone structure with heavy wooden doors. I’ve always loved to ride and I wonder if my new husband does as well.
On the other side of the fountain, I discover a wooden bench. Beside it is another rosebush, but this one is smaller than the rest, as if newly planted. The others around it are already in full bloom, whereas this one has several buds scattered throughout, only the barest hint of red peeking out from the dark green foliage.
I’m about to take a seat when a deep voice startles me. “What are you doing out here?”
I snap my head toward the sound to find Valaric standing behind me.
He studies me with a piercing gaze, his expression somewhere between concern and disapproval. “Why are you out here in the cold?” In one fluid movement, he removes his thick cloak and drapes it over my shoulders. The weight and warmth are comforting against the cool night air. “You should be resting.”
The smell of mint and cedar drifts up from the heavy fabric, enveloping me in his masculine scent as he tucks it securely around my form. I’m so stunned by the tenderness of this gesture, it takes me a moment to find my voice.
“I wanted to see the gardens. It’s lovely out here. These in particular.” I gesture to the roses. “Are they enchanted?”
“They are Fae roses, infused with magic.”
“And what of this one?” I ask, caressing the soft leaves of one of the newly formed rosebuds.
His sharp gaze tracks my fingers as he eyes the smaller bush. He clenches his jaw. “It is… new.” Before I can ask anything else, his red eyes snap back to mine. “Why are you out here alone?”
“Elsie told me about the stairs from my balcony. So, I decided to explore.” I gesture to the bench behind me. “I think I need to sit down for a bit. Would you like to join me?”
“What’s wrong?” Concern laces his tone. “Are you feeling weak?”
“I’m fine,” I lie, practically collapsing onto the bench.
“You are not fine.” He hoists me to his chest as if I weigh nothing and starts back for the castle. “You need to rest. Your body is still healing.”
I open my mouth to argue but then decide against it. He’s right. I am feeling a bit exhausted. “Is it normal to take so long to recover?”
“Your injuries were”—he clenches his jaw as if what he wants to say is difficult—“severe. You were very close to death when I first saw you.”
I hate that I have no memory of what happened. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought that my attacker is still out there somewhere.
Valaric must mistake my shiver for the cold because he carries me up the stairs to the second floor and back to the room I was in earlier. Gently, he sets me down on the sofa. He removes his cloak and mine before he pulls a fur blanket from the bed and wraps it around my shoulders to ensure I’m warm. Then he moves to the fireplace and adds more wood to the hearth.
With his back to me, I take a moment to study him. My gaze travels over his large black wings, his broad shoulders and his lean muscular form. He moves with a preternatural grace, everything about him exuding power and strength.
“Is that better?” he asks over his shoulder as he stokes the fire.
“Yes.” I stand and walk over to his side, holding my hands out to the flames to warm them.
“Are you hungry?” he asks. “Thirsty?”
“No, thank you.” I’m glad of the extra care he gives me. He is already a better husband than I expected when I first learned I would be wife to a Vampire. I glance around the bedroom, noting the absence of anything suggesting that he means to stay here. “Is this to be our chambers?”
“This is your room,” he replies. “I must sleep downstairs to avoid the sun.”
“Will we not be sharing a bed while we sleep then?”
He stills, his entire body tensing. “That will not be necessary.”
It’s strange that we will be living in separate rooms, but I’ve heard it is common among many married couples.
“Elsie will bring you some lynberry tea later,” he adds. “You should drink it daily.”
I’ve never heard of lynberry tea, but I can guess at its purpose. Still, I’d like to make sure I’m right, because if not, I’ll need to replenish the tea leaves my mother packed for me to avoid becoming with child until we’ve decided we’re ready. “Is it better than moon tea for prevention?”
“Yes,” Valaric replies. “It will keep you from becoming anemic.”
My stomach twists in a nervous knot. It seems we’re not speaking of the same thing, and while it’s an awkward subject, given how new we are to each other, it still needs to be addressed. “I meant prevention of conception,” I clarify. “My mother gave me moon tea leaves for contraception. I have enough for two weeks, but I will need to purchase more.”
His mouth drops open, but he quickly snaps it shut. “You would take me to your bed?”
I’m stunned by how taken aback he appears. I thought all married couples engaged in such intimacy, but perhaps I am wrong.
“Yes. We are husband and wife. It is expected that we consummate our marriage or else it is not binding.”