Prologue #4
The human trembled violently and shook his head.
Alexander took a step toward him.
The man whimpered and jabbed a finger toward the tree line beyond the monastery walls. “Someone brings it every month,” he stammered. “I don’t know who they are. But… but they always come from that direction.”
Alexander stared at the line of trees, his mind racing. Who was bringing the blood?
A face appeared in his mind. The woman from his dreams. Every time she appeared, that exact same scent wrapped around him. It had to be her. Alexander’s pulse quickened.
Was she his bride?
His heart began to pound harder against his ribs like it was trying to break free. For the first time since waking in that cursed coffin, something other than anger and hunger stirred inside him.
Hope.
But the excitement quickly gave way to frustration.
How the hell was he supposed to find her?
“Will they come again?” he asked, tearing his gaze away from the forest. “To bring the blood?”
“Yes,” the man answered quickly. “Day after tomorrow.”
Two days.
Could he last that long? He doubted it.
The hunger gnawed at his insides like a caged beast desperate to be fed. Growing with every passing second.
Still… searching for them now would be useless. He didn’t know where they lived. Didn’t even know which direction they’d come from.
He exhaled, forcing the hunger back down where it belonged.
“I’ll let you live because I need your help,” he said flatly.
“Thank you… thank you,” the human cried, folding to his knees. “I’ll do anything.”
“I need a place to rest,” Alexander said, turning back to the trembling human.
“The monastery… where you were kept,” the man said. “The cellar is—” At Alexander's stare, he swallowed, quickly backtracking. “Father Daniels' room is big and clean. I’ll change the bedding right away.”
“Good. Lead the way,” Alexander said.
The human staggered upright, wincing as he shuffled ahead of him.
“What’s your name?” Alexander asked as they walked.
“Lacus.”
“Lacus, what year is it?”
“2026.”
What? They had kept him locked in that coffin for nearly two centuries. Why? Why had they kept him alive?
Why wasn’t he dead?
The memories trickled back slowly, filling his mind.
The war. The veil tearing open between worlds. Drago. He had lost his brother.
And after that… everything had gone to shit.
The wild, irrational rage. It had spread through him like wildfire, burning away reason until he’d felt himself going mad.
So, what the hell had happened?
Alexander frowned in confusion as they stepped across the threshold of the building. The moment he stepped inside, the oppressive heat of the sun faded from his skin, only then realizing he had been standing outside.
His gaze dropped to his arm. Then slowly lifted toward the blazing afternoon sun high in the sky.
He should have burned.
Any vampire exposed to sunlight like that would have been reduced to ash in seconds.
But his skin remained unmarked. Alexander stared at his hands in disbelief. That was impossible.
How the hell was he immune to sunlight?
He shook his head slowly, his mind struggling to make sense of it before finally shoving the thought aside. There were too many unanswered questions already. He would deal with that mystery later.
“This way,” Lacus said, motioning nervously as he led Alexander deeper into the building.
Alexander followed, though every step made him more aware of how terrible he felt.
God, he needed a bath. Clean clothes. A bed. And blood. Especially blood.
The moment the thought hit, his fangs slid down instinctively. His mouth watered at the memory of the rich, intoxicating blood. Just remembering it made something restless stir inside him.
I’m starving.
Alexander rubbed the back of his neck in irritation. Every slow step behind the human tested what little patience he had left. His gaze drifted again and again to the steady pulse beating in Lacus’s neck. He could hear the blood moving beneath the man’s skin. Warm. Alive. So close.
His jaw tightened painfully.
He wanted to bite. To sink his fangs in and drink until the hunger quieted. But killing Lacus now would be stupid. The human knew where the blood he needed was. Besides… human blood tasted terrible now. Alexander grimaced slightly at the memory.
Patience, he told himself as he followed behind. Patience, Alexander.
“Here we are,” Lacus said at last, opening a door with a nervous little flourish.
Alexander stepped past him into the room, forcing down the sudden urge to snap the man’s neck simply to stop the sound of his heartbeat.
Fuck.
Why was he so angry? So… murderous?
“I need to get cleaned up,” he snapped, his voice sharper than he intended.
Damn it. He needed to get a handle on himself.
“Yes, of course,” Lacus replied quickly, practically tripping over his own feet as he hurried toward a door off to the side. A moment later the sound of rushing water filled the room. Alexander followed it out of curiosity and stopped in the doorway.
Well… things had definitely improved over the centuries.
A deep porcelain tub, gleaming white and wide enough to sink into comfortably, sat beneath an elegant brass faucet. Steam curled lazily into the air, fogging the small room.
Without hesitation Alexander tore the remains of his clothing from his body. The fabric fell away in ruined strips.
Just as the last piece hit the floor, Lacus turned around.
The human froze instantly. His eyes widened as they landed on Alexander’s chest. On the jagged, wound where the stake had pierced his heart.
Heat surged violently up Alexander’s neck, anger boiling beneath his skin, rising so fast it startled him.
It felt as though the slightest thing could set him off.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Take these and burn them,” Alexander ordered abruptly, shoving the filthy pile of clothing into the human’s trembling hands.
“I—I’ll take care of it,” Lacus stammered, clutching the ruined clothes awkwardly against his chest. “I’ll find you something else to wear.
” He practically fled the room, the door shutting quietly behind him.
Alexander barely heard the last part. His attention had already shifted to the tub.
He stepped into the hot water, lowering himself slowly until it reached his shoulders.
A deep, involuntary moan escaped his throat as heat wrapped around his body, soaking into muscles that had been stiff for too long. He sank deeper into the water, letting it wash over him.
He soaked for a while, then he got to work.
He scrubbed every inch of himself, watching more than a hundred years of dirt and neglect cloud the water.
His hair took the longest, now so long it brushed the floor when he stood.
When he finally finished washing it, he twisted the heavy length into a tight bun on top of his head.
Clean at last, Alexander stepped back into the room, steam still clinging faintly to his skin. A simple robe had been laid neatly across the bed, clearly left there by Lacus.
He picked it up and slipped it over his shoulders, the soft fabric settling against his freshly washed skin as he tied it loosely at his waist.
Crossing the room, he sank slowly onto the edge of the bed. For a moment he simply sat there, staring at the floor while his mind churned.
It was almost as if his grief had been waiting for him to feel remotely like himself again before it rippled through him. Alexander dragged his hands down his face, pain twisting in his chest.
He had left him there.
Left his twin brother in hell.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands as the weight of it threatened to drag him under.
Before he could sink fully into the misery, a sharp knock sounded at the door.
Alexander stiffened.
“Come in,” he said.
Lacus eased the door open and peeked inside. “I just came to check if you need anything.”
“No. I’m fine,” Alexander replied, turning his attention toward the bed.
“I changed the sheets while you were in the bathroom,” Lacus added quickly. “If you need anything else, just let me know.”
“I won’t be needing anything,” Alexander said. “And I don’t want to be disturbed for the next two days. Come and get me only when they bring the blood.”
“Alright,” Lacus nodded before backing out and closing the door.
Alexander lay down, letting the thin mattress cradle his exhausted body. Two days of sleep should conserve his strength and help close the gaping wound in his chest. The little blood he’d managed to swallow had stopped the bleeding, but the healing was painfully slow. He needed more blood.
I hope the next two days go by fast, he thought as he shut his eyes.
Instantly, his mind filled with her. His bride.
As always, she was laughing as if she had no care in the world.
Tonight, she glided through a lake so clear it looked like glass, the surface reflecting a sky scattered with bright stars.
The sight of her wrapped around him like a warm blanket, pulling him deeper and deeper into sleep.
When he finally opened his eyes again, two full days had passed. He felt… lighter. Rested. The wound in his chest was nothing more than a faint scar. He checked it in the mirror, satisfied, then turned just as a knock sounded.
“Come in,” he said, already knowing who it was.
Lacus stepped inside and gave a small bow as if he’d suddenly remembered what respect looked like.
“They are here,” he announced, though Alexander hardly needed the words. He’d already sensed another presence in the monastery. The scent of werewolf clung to the air.
But it wasn’t the scent of the one who haunted his dreams.
It wasn’t her.
But the werewolf could lead him to her. All Alexander had to do was follow.
He trailed behind Lacus through the quiet hall and toward the church doors.
Whoever delivered the vial waited outside.
Alexander stopped a few paces from the door, keeping to the shadows while Lacus stepped out.
Minutes ticked by before the human returned, clutching the vial like an offering. He held it out with both hands.
Alexander took it, and the moment the glass touched his fingers his hand trembled. Hunger slammed into him with twice the force of the last two days.
Fuck.
It was like being chained from the inside out, bound to that blood, ruled by it. Nothing else would satisfy him. Nothing but his bride’s blood.
And as the sun finally dipped below the horizon and the sky sank into darkness, Alexander slipped into the trees, following the werewolf’s scent deep into the forest.