Chapter 46
FORTY-SIX
Spring arrived swiftly at the cabin, its coming marked by the gentle symphony of snow melting from the rooftop during the day when we slept.
Each afternoon, I found myself awakened by the melodic rhythm of the approaching thaw, then I would toss and turn in bed, sleeping again until night came.
I decided not to mention my encounter with Vail to Draven.
I didn’t want him to worry that she was aware of my identity as a Blood Hunter.
I would wait until we were home, and the moment felt right to share the news.
When Draven brought me blood, I no longer felt the incessant need to seek more, and instead, I often joined him in the hunts.
He became my guide, teaching me how to stalk animals and how to listen to their footsteps in the snow.
He told me that in the spring and summer, the animal’s blood tasted better.
The cold no longer affected me, and I discovered a newfound love for running through the winter woods. With the wind in my hair and my limbs stretching freely, I felt an exhilarating sense of liberation.
Three months in the cabin were exactly what Draven and I needed.
I felt closer to him than ever before. On our final night beneath the endless expanse of the moonlit sky, Draven and I shared intimate conversations about our life together.
We spoke of our hopes and dreams, envisioning a future that stretched into eternity.
We stepped out of the cabin that had become our second home and greeted the carriage driver. I looked around at the forest, and I could hear the howling of wolves in the distance as I stepped inside.
We rattled along the uneven path, darkness swallowing the passing trees outside.
After a couple of hours, the trees fell away, leaving only the edge of a steep cliff beside us.
Down below, Elmcross sparkled with lights, smoke curling from chimneys.
A gentle warmth settled over me, stirring the excitement of almost being home.
“You look happy,” Draven said, and I turned to see him smiling at me.
“I am happy.” I smiled back. “I am eager to return home with you.”
“You are my home, Rosalia. Whenever I am with you … even if we were on the other side of the world, I would feel at home.” He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed each finger slowly, ending with a kiss on my palm and then my wedding ring.
I leaned my head against his shoulder, and he kissed the top of it.
“I would like to go to the other side of the world with you,” I told him.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, now that we have eternity together, I feel a desire to experience everything, without limitations. Have you travelled much?” I asked him.
“Yes, I have been all over. I was a sailor for a while, about fifty years ago. I traversed the seas during that time,” Draven replied, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.
“Why?” I pressed further, eager to uncover the motivations behind his adventures.
“It got tedious brooding in that mansion, heartbroken. I needed an escape. Interestingly, I met another Blood Hunter on the ship … a stowaway dressed as a man. I discovered her one night when she attempted to drink my blood whilst I slept. It was quite a humorous situation. We ended up in a relationship after that,” Draven recounted.
“What happened to her?”
“She left when we docked, embarking on another adventure,” Draven replied, his eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t quite decipher.
“As for us, my heart, we could travel if you desired. I am willing to do anything to make you happy. We could pack tonight and set off tomorrow, or we could wait twenty years. The choice is yours.”
“Perhaps one day. I wish to spend a bit more time at home first, to acclimate to my surroundings and to myself, before we embark on such a journey.”
“As you wish,” Draven kissed my hand once more, then trailed kisses along my arm and to my neck, ending at the spot where he turned me. Though it was healed, it had remained sensitive since.
As we neared home, a meadow clearing to our right caught my attention. I glimpsed a figure darting past, but when I blinked, there was nothing there except the gentle glow of moonlight. Perplexed, I leaned forward, scanning the area once more, but found only the dark beauty of the night.
Our carriage slowed to a halt, the sudden stop drawing my attention to Draven as I felt him stiffen next to me.
“What is happening?” I asked him, a sense of unease settling over me.
“I am not entirely certain,” Draven responded, his brow furrowed.
Draven opened the carriage door and called out to the driver, “What is taking so long?” But no answer came. “Stay here. I’ll go investigate,” Draven told me, then he slipped out.
After a minute, Draven called out my name. Exiting the carriage, I walked toward the front. The horse and the driver were on the ground motionless, their necks slit, and blood pooled beneath them.
“What happened?” I asked Draven, stepping closer. The smell of blood beckoned me.
“Rosalia, stop!” Draven called out, but it was too late.
I stepped, my foot entering a circle on the ground.
I looked down and saw a circle of salt and herbs surrounding me.
I instinctively backed away, attempting to escape the circle, but an invisible barrier held me captive.
I tried to kick the salt aside, but as my foot approached, it met a solid wall.
“Draven, I am trapped!” I exclaimed, panic rising within me as fear clenched my chest and the hairs on my neck stood on end. Draven’s eyes widened in alarm as he glanced at me.
Before I could comprehend what was happening, a cloaked figure materialized beside Draven. Reacting swiftly, Draven swung his arm, striking the intruder, then seized them and tore off their head in one swift motion. The body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
To my horror, Draven held up the severed head, its long white hair shimmering in the moonlight, before tossing it. As it rolled toward me, it breached the circle, momentarily disrupting the barrier of salt. Seizing the opportunity, I dashed out of the circle and into Draven’s protective embrace.
“Draven, what is happening?” I looked up at him; he was scanning the trees.
“That’s a witch circle.” He took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, continuing to glance around us. He looked as if he were preparing for a fight. He turned to me and pulled the hood of my cloak over my head.
“Listen to me, Rosalia. I have been in this situation before; this is a trap. Witches have discovered us, and they know where we are and who we are. Did anyone in town see you when you were there? Did you talk to anyone?” He stared at me.
“I didn’t talk to anyone,” I told him. “Only Vail, she found me—”
“Dammit, Rosalia,” Draven cut me off, his frustration evident. “Vail is a witch, and she thought we were dead.”
“She did think that! She almost killed me. I had no choice but to tell her. Ultimately, she came to my aid. I assure you, she would never betray us,” I protested, tears welling in my eyes.
“It is all right,” Draven reassured me, drawing me close for a kiss.
“Rosalia, you have to listen to everything I say,” he implored, setting me down and meeting my gaze.
“We are in danger, and we cannot use our carriage; the horse is dead. We must run. We are close enough to Thornwood, but dawn is approaching swiftly. We must go now.”
With urgency propelling us forward, Draven grasped my hand tightly, and together we sprinted toward the trees.
We ran through the forest, the ground slick with mud.
It clung to the hem of my dress and my shoes as Draven pulled me along.
We were faster than humans, and the trees seemed to blur around me as we moved through them.
We ran for a while, never slowing down, and I could sense how close we were to home.
We entered a clearing at the edge of the forest and stopped.
“We have to backtrack,” Draven declared, his tone urgent.
“Can we not run along the road?” I suggested.
“We cannot afford to be exposed; it's far too easy for the witches to strike if they see us,” Draven explained, his voice laced with concern.
A sense of foreboding washed over me, causing my skin to prickle with unease.
Something was not right.
Draven tightened his grip on my hand, pulling me into him. “Stay close,” he whispered as we turned around.
The shadows in the trees surrounding us seemed to come alive as seven cloaked figures emerged from the darkness.
One by one, they pulled back their hoods.
The first glimpse of golden hair confirmed my worst fear before the hood was even fully removed.
I felt as if I had been punched in the gut as betrayal washed over me. There stood Vail and Agnes.
I wanted to scream, but the anger left me speechless. Vail had sold us out to her grandmother’s coven. I couldn’t bear to look at her. Instead, my gaze fixed on Agnes, hatred churning in my core.
Agnes stepped forward from the group, her eyes fixated on us. “You,” she pointed her long finger at Draven. “You have chosen to defy the laws of nature by turning Rosalia into a Blood Hunter. You disrupt the delicate balance of life and death, and for that, you must face the consequences.”
She then looked at me. “I thought I knew you better, Rosalia. I welcomed you, fed you, and gave you the friendship of my granddaughter, all while you were bedding a Blood Hunter. I felt the darkness in you long before now. You deceived my family.”
Draven stepped forward, pulling me slightly behind him, not letting go of my hand. His voice was calm and measured. “We mean no harm to anyone,” he insisted. “We simply seek to live. We have no desire to hurt anyone, including you and your coven.”