Chapter 15
Alexander
Was this an everyday thing? Alexander asked himself as he looked around the room.
Every surface was bathed in the soft glow of burning candles and tendrils of incense smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling.
He turned toward Manlius, angling his face away as he tried not to breathe too deeply. The scent of melted wax and incense was suffocating. The last time he’d been here, he hadn’t noticed. Boaz’s scent had drowned out everything.
Now, that the werewolf wasn’t here, the incense was unbearable.
Alexander rubbed at his nose irritably.
Was he going to do this or not?
“Manlius?”
“Yeah, I’m ready,” Manlius said, stepping away from the table, a syringe held in his right hand.
Alexander didn’t waste time. He rolled up his sleeve and extended his arm, offering it without a word.
“Sorry,” Manlius murmured, as he slid the needle into Alexander’s vein with practiced ease.
“Were you trained as a doctor?” he asked as he watch his blood fill the vial.
“In another life,” Manlius said not elaborating more. When the first vial filled, he swapped it out for another. Then another.
Once he was done, he withdrew the needle and pressed a piece of cotton against the puncture. “Hold that,” he said. Alexander pressed his thumb to the piece of cotton as he watched Manlius turn back to the table cluttered with candles and incense sticks.
“Why does Brett need more blood?” Alexander asked, following him. “Did he find something?”
“I don’t know,” Manlius admitted, his gaze fixed on the vials of blood he’d just collected. His brows furrowed. “He didn’t say. Maybe… he wants to run more tests.”
Alexander watched him closely.
“But you’re worried.”
“A little.” Manlius said thoughtfully, the lines on his forehead deepening. “It’s probably nothing. Let’s just wait and hear what he has to say.” He gave Alexandra an assessing look. “In the meantime, if you feel any changes you come to me immediately.”
Alexander nodded. They fell silent for a moment, both deep in thought.
“When I was… out,” he began hesitantly. “What really happened?”
“What do you mean?”
Alexander cleared his suddenly tight throat, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Why…Why did you save me? Why didn’t you just kill me?”
Manlius turned fully to face him then.
“We lost a lot that night,” he said finally. “We couldn’t afford to lose one more. When Boaz suggested it… I thought he was out of his mind. But it worked.”
Alexander stilled.
“Boaz… was the one who suggested it?” He knew he’d saved him. But he hadn’t known that he was the one who suggested they save him.
“Yes.”
The simple word was like a hard punch to Alexander’s gut.
Manlius stared into space as if he was relieving the moment.
“We were all afraid you’d wake up and attack everyone again.
But Boaz…” He shook his head incredulously.
“He believed you could heal yourself. He was the only one who did. He even gave you his blood to keep you asleep. He made the biggest sacrifice.” Almost to himself he said, “It couldn’t have been easy for him.
Believing in something that might not have worked.
He had no way of knowing you’d come back…
like this. And still, he kept going.” He turned to meet his eyes.
“He must’ve been terrified when you finally woke up.
I know I was. But by some miracle it worked. ”
“Yeah…” Alexander said, though the word felt hollow in his mouth. “I should get going.”
“Right.” Manlius nodded, already turning back to his table of candles. “I’ll send this off to Brett. He’s probably waiting.”
Alexander didn’t respond, he turned and walked out of the house. Manlius’s revelation shook him to the core. After everything he’d done to the werewolf, he felt a sickening guilt. He’d treated him like nothing. Like a blood slave he could use any time he wanted.
And all this time… Boaz had been the sole reason he was even standing here.
Why the hell had he done it?
Now, they were bound to each other in ways Alexander couldn’t explain. The werewolf was his lifeline. He couldn’t survive without him.
“No,” he said under his breath, shoving the feeling away.
He disappeared into thin air and appeared a second later inside the cave.
The sound of swords striking against each other was like music to his ears.
Alexander folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the stone wall to watch the young vampires sparring in the middle of the cave.
“They’re getting better,” Greer said, striding towards him.
“Yeah,” Alexander replied distractedly, his entire focus on the sparring vampires. “Move your feet!” he barked suddenly.
The two vampires jerked in surprise, their focus breaking instantly. One stumbled, and suddenly they were tripping over each other, their swords swinging wildly almost slicing off a head.
They scrambled apart, breathless and wide-eyed.
Alexander exhaled, shaking his head. The rest of the cave erupted into laughter, the tension dissolving just as quickly as it had formed.
“You startled them,” Greer chuckled as if he couldn’t help himself.
“In war, enemies will come at you from every direction.” Alexander’s voice rang through the cave silencing them.
“You have to be alert every second of every minute. Or you’re dead.
” He moved to the center, his footsteps the only sound in the cave.
“Pick up your swords,” he commanded. They scrambled to their feet, swords scraping over stone, as they obeyed.
“From this moment until I say stop…” His eyes bored into them as he said, “…everyone is your enemy.”
The young vampires exchanged uncertain looks, their eyes wide.
“Now!” Alexander shouted, snatching a sword from the one closest to him.
He attacked without mercy. They scattered, panicked cries echoing around the cave.
Some tried to raise their sword, but there was no escaping him.
He used the flat side of his blade to strike their shoulders, backs, thighs—each blow punishing.
Their fight spilled out of the cave and into the forest, their swords gleaming dully beneath the dim moon. They fought between towering trees, ducked beneath low branches covered in snow.
One of them lunged too close and his blade sliced across Alexander’s arm before he could deflect it.
He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, swallowing a moan. Blood welled and trailed down his arm to fall silently on the snow-covered ground.
But he didn’t stop fighting.
He pushed them for hours until one by one, they collapsed to the forest floor.
Alexander stood over them, barely out of breath, his sword resting across his shoulder.
“Go. Rest,” he said. “Tonight, we continue.”
A chorus of groans followed as they dragged themselves upright tiredly. One by one, they vanished into the night.
Greer stood nearby, watching him. Something like pride shining in his eyes.
“It feels like old times,” he said.
A smile tugged at Alexander’s lips. “It does,” he said as he handed the sword over. “Take care of this.”
Greer reached for it, but he stalled when his eyes dropped to Alexander’s arm.
“You’re hurt.”
Alexander glanced down at his arm, pressing his hand over the cut. The blood had already dried. “It’s a small cut,” he said dismissively. “It’ll be healed by tomorrow. Don’t worry about it.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Greer said, though he hesitated before he disappeared, leaving Alexander alone.
Snow started to fall softly, blanketing the forest in white. Alexander stood and watched.
He’d dreamed of bringing his bride here, of showing her his beautiful home. He wondered if she’d like it. Boaz’s face rose unbidden in his mind, replacing Lylas.
Alexander snarled, and just like that, the calm he’d found vanished.