Chapter 29
Maeve
Behind her, I laugh, and this startles her too, making her whirl and drop her book.
“Goddess!” she yelps. “You scared me.”
“I’ve made plenty of noise,” I say as I plop my boots down beside the door, my shower bag still looped over one shoulder. “You were lost in your book again.”
Still frazzled, Poppy fetches a cloth, then begins to wipe up the spilled water. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” She mops up the puddle, then glances up at me. “You want a cup of tea?”
I nod. “Yeah. Sounds good.”
Upstairs in the loft, I drop my shower bag beside my bed, weave my damp hair into a quick braid, and massage a drop of oil into my face before descending the stairs back to the sitting room.
Poppy is in her usual spot on the couch, blanket draped across her legs, teacup in hand.
She hasn’t resumed reading yet, which I know means she wants to spend some time together.
I grab my teacup from the table where Poppy left it, then join her on the couch. “Where are Alina and Lyra?” I ask.
“They went to the astronomy tower with Raelan. There’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight.”
Severin mentioned that earlier, but the idea of dragging myself up all those stairs to the astronomy tower to watch the sky sounds exhausting. My muscles definitely aren’t up for that tonight.
Poppy gives me a small sad smile. “Aric and I did a lot of stargazing in Faunwood this past summer. Now, looking at the sky reminds me of him.” She glances down into her teacup, and her shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “I miss him. I can’t wait to see him for Yule.”
Right. I remember she told me that her mom is going to join her, and they’re both going to Faunwood for the holiday.
“It’ll be here before you know it,” I say, reaching out to put a hand on her knee. Leaning back, I take a small sip of my tea—lavender and chamomile—then ask, “Do you think you’re going to want to move there? To Faunwood?”
Poppy meets my eyes, and hers look equal parts hopeful and unsure. “I don’t know yet. He hasn’t even been there a year, but . . .” She lets out a wistful sigh. “I love it there. It’s a slower pace, and everyone is so kind, and it’s quiet. Really quiet.”
“Like, you could read all day and no one would disturb you quiet?” I ask with a sideways smile.
Finally, Poppy smiles back. “Exactly. But I don’t know what I’d do there. They already have a baker, and I’m not sure I have any other skills to offer.”
With a thoughtful hum, I take another sip of my tea, burrowing deeper into the plush couch cushions. Then an idea hits me. “Do they have a schoolteacher?”
Poppy jolts up. “What?”
“A schoolteacher. For all the kids.”
“I-I . . .” She reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not really a teacher.”
I roll my eyes. “I tried to tutor Aric, remember? And he was a gigantic pain in the ass. But you were able to do it. He passed because of you.” I prod her in the leg with my bare foot. “You’re an amazing teacher. And kids would love you.”
Her cheeks go a little pink, and she averts her gaze in that way that I know means she doesn’t want to keep talking about this. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Something to think about.”
We lapse into silence, each sipping our cups of tea as the fire in the hearth crackles, keeping the room nice and warm as the night grows colder outside.
And without meaning to, I start to think of Severin.
This is what it’s like now: The moment I’m not distracted by something else, he’s there in my mind, looking at me with those midnight eyes, challenging me in ways I’ve never been challenged before.
Our conversation from last week comes back to me, when I asked if he’d feed from me.
And he told me he’d consider it. Since then, I haven’t asked again. I know him well enough to know that if I push too hard, he’ll shut down, trying to hold fast to his control.
But has he considered it?
I certainly have.
And I’m tiptoeing closer and closer to making a decision for myself.
After taking another sip of tea, I stare down into my cup, watching the lavender leaves swirling at the bottom. I must lose myself in thought, because Poppy eventually says, “Maeve? Are you okay?”
I glance up at her. She has her head tipped to one side, that gently focused look on her face that says she’s giving me her complete attention. And I’ve always loved that about Poppy. As long as you don’t interrupt her when she’s reading, she’s the most attentive person I know.
Maybe she’d be a good one to talk to about this. Alina would tell me I’m out of my mind, and Lyra would just encourage me to be reckless. But Poppy would take it seriously, the same way I need to.
“Can I ask you something?” I say.
A smile flickers across her mouth. “You already know I’m going to say yes.”
I smile back, then sit up straight. “How much do you know about vampires and . . . feeding?”
Her eyes widen, just a bit, like she’s surprised but trying to control her facial expression. But then she turns fully to face me, teacup cradled in her lap. “I know a bit. Is there something specific you want to know about?”
I want to know everything about it: what it feels like, what happens during the feeding, what comes after. But I try to focus on one thing at a time. “Is it . . . dangerous?”
Poppy studies me, her lavender eyes narrowed just slightly, like she’s deciding how best to say what’s going through her head. Then she says, “It can be, depending on the vampire. But it’s not inherently dangerous.”
I hold her gaze, waiting for more.
With a smile, she sets her teacup on the side table, then folds her hands in her lap.
“Feeding is intimate. It’s emotional and physical.
And there’s a biological response. A vampire’s fangs produce venom, which relaxes the body and heightens sensations.
It can soften the line between pain and pleasure.
But the vampire needs to be disciplined, and there has to be trust.”
Heat creeps up my neck, but I don’t say anything.
Heightens sensations.
I know what that feels like.
Every time I’m around Severin, my magic reacts to him, like he’s a conduit of some sort. Sometimes all it takes is a brief glance, meeting his eyes for just a moment, and my entire body suddenly feels like a storm waiting to erupt.
No one has ever made me feel like that before.
Poppy tips her head and blinks her big lavender eyes. “Why do you ask?”
She knows exactly why I’m asking, but I appreciate that she’s letting me put it into my own words.
After a moment of hesitation, I say, “Because I’m considering it . . . with Severin.”
She nods slowly, not looking surprised. “Do you trust him?”
It takes no time at all to ponder that question. I know it in the way my body softens when I’m around him, in the way I always want to step closer to him instead of away.
“Yes.” I glance down into my teacup. “I’m not afraid of him. But I’m afraid of how much I want him.”
When I look up, Poppy is smiling at me. “I know what that feels like. I was afraid of how much I liked Aric too.” She reaches up to fiddle with a strand of hair, rubbing it between her forefinger and thumb. “I didn’t want to get hurt. But . . . I’m glad I took the leap, even if I was afraid.”
I’m glad she took the leap too. Both she and Aric are better for it, even if they didn’t realize it at the time.
“I still haven’t made my decision,” I say, my voice almost lost in the hiss and crackle of the fire.
Now Poppy is the one who leans forward to put a hand on my leg. “You don’t have to decide right away. But whatever you choose to do, I’ll support you.”
I put my hand on top of hers and squeeze. “Thanks, Pops. That means a lot.”
Later that night, after Alina and Lyra have returned and we’ve all gone to bed, I lie awake, staring up at the shadowed ceiling.
My mind flashes through memories of Severin, snippets of conversation, stolen moments that I wish would’ve lasted forever. It makes my body warm and my heart beat just a bit faster in my chest.
Isis uncurls herself from where she was coiled on my chest and slithers slowly up my body to rest her head on the dip between my collarbones. During the winter, it’s easy for her to get cold, so she’s almost always curled up against my body or tucked into the blankets on my bed.
“Your heart is restless,” she hisses softly.
In the dark, I nod. Then I whisper, keeping my voice down so as not to wake the others, “I’m thinking.”
“About him?”
I don’t have to answer that. Isis already knows.
Neither of us speaks for a long stretch of time. Then I say, “If he feeds on me, it’ll change our relationship.”
“One could assume.”
“I don’t know how though.”
After a short moment of silence, Isis says, “This is what troubles you. You’re afraid of the unknown.”
I am. I’m afraid of what’ll happen afterward, how I’ll feel toward Severin, how he’ll feel toward me. My magic already longs for him, and when he’s not around, it misses him.
I miss him.
If he feeds on me, will I lose myself in him? And if I do, will I even want to find myself again?
I’ve never wanted to rely on anyone else. I’ve prided myself on my independence, on not needing anyone.
But slowly, I’m starting to feel like I need him.
No, maybe that’s not right. Maybe I don’t need him; maybe I just want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else. Maybe this is what it feels like to—
To fall in love.
The thought startles me enough that my heart stutters, and Isis lets out a small hiss. I reach up and stroke a finger over her smooth head, and she settles at my touch, slithering back under the blanket and coiling herself into a tight little bundle.
But even after she drifts back off into sleep, I continue lying awake, considering what this might mean.
I know that I trust him. I know that I want him. And I think . . .
I think I want to take the leap, like Poppy said.
Even if I don’t know what’s waiting for me at the bottom.