Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Charlotte
Boxon
Vervain Hall
Charlotte clutched the window frame, holding on for support. This wasn’t possible. He was gone, and she was bereft.
“Please be real. I can’t take it if this is a dream or hallucination,” she whispered. She’d had far too many dreams where they were together and there was such joy, only to have grief crash down on her all over again when she woke. It wasn’t fair.
“I’m here,” Draven said.
“But the army took the Aerie.”
“They did.”
“I heard the explosion. We all heard.” It didn’t make sense. He couldn’t have survived.
“They brought explosives and breached the Black Gate.” Draven shook his head. “I just didn’t have the numbers to keep them out. They swarmed us.”
Charlotte closed her eyes, remembering all the people loyal to Draven. They’d fight to the last breath for him. Was she crying? Her lashes were wet. “All those people.”
“I negotiated a surrender.”
“Now I know this is a dream. Draven would never surrender.”
“Someone very important to me told me that being the master of the mountain kept me frozen.” He brushed his hand along the side of her face.
Charlotte removed her spectacles and wiped her eyes. She was definitely crying now, and not in an elegant or pretty way. Her chest heaved, too full of want and yearning and bitter hope and relief. Ugly tears rolled down her face, and her nose ran. Her eyes would be puffy and red.
“Don’t tease me,” she pleaded.
He pulled her to him. Sobs racked her body. Somehow, despite the dust and the dirt, he smelled of crisp winter air—and a little bit like dust and dirt—and that made her cry harder. This was joy and relief and it was brutal. Her emotions felt too large for her body. All she could do was let them escape.
Finally, when she settled enough to speak, she spoke the words: “I love you, Draven. I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to tell you before. I’ve regretted it every day since we parted.”
His arms tightened around her. “Tell me again,” he said, face buried in her hair.
“I love you.” She tilted her face up to hold his gaze. “All of you. The good and the bad. The past and the future.”
She really wanted to share a future with him.
The kiss was soft, almost shy. Draven pulled back, uncertain.
“No,” Charlotte said, grabbing onto his dusty coat and pulling him closer. She kissed him hard, pouring all her fears and doubts, devotion, and desire into it. Fangs nipped against her lips. His hand cradled the back of her head, tangling in her hair.
“You love me,” he said, his voice soft with disbelief.
“I love you,” she agreed.
He smiled, the first time she had ever seen the expression cross his face. It was radiant, like the sun breaking on a cold winter morning and reflecting on the ice. Brilliant.
Dazzling.
Hers.
“Will you invite me in?” he asked.
She pulled out of his embrace. “I thought vampires didn’t need an invitation.”
“I’m trying to be polite.”
She ushered him in, taking the opportunity to pull herself together. She sniffed, drying her face and leaky nose with a handkerchief. What did etiquette say about lovers returning from the dead? Did you offer tea? Something stronger seemed appropriate, but she had the liquor cabinet emptied. All she had to offer was a carafe of room-temperature water.
Charlotte touched the vessel, a silent offer.
“Go ahead. I’m thirsty,” he said.
Thirsty or thirsty ? Now in the light, she got a good look at his appearance. His clothes were travel-stained and had seen better days. The boots were worn thin. He was gaunt and pale beyond pale, not that his complexion had ever been a healthy color. Her love looked ill.
“How did you escape?” she asked, handing him a glass.
“Secret tunnel,” he said, like it was obvious. “I left with those who wished to leave. They were evacuated with enough supplies to last until we reached shelter. Those who didn’t want to face the cruelty of the mountains in winter stayed, hoping the army had more mercy than the mountains.”
“I hope so, too.” Her hike down the mountain on snowshoes had been exhausting.
“Once the Black Gate was finally breached, I was nowhere to be found. I assume the army declared me dead rather than admit I slipped away.” He drained the glass. “I modified my appearance, changed clothes, and left Lord Draven behind.”
“Any word about your brother?”
Draven shook his head. “I searched. I found tracks, but no.”
“I hope he’s well.” She liked Hal, even if she only knew him for a day. “What about everyone else? Orianne? Lemoine?”
“Lemoine wanted to follow me, but I refused.” He gave a weary sigh. “It’s hard to travel incognito when she refuses to stop calling me Lord Draven. I gave her a fortune as compensation. For her flaws, she was loyal.”
Charlotte picked at a piece of lint on his coat collar. She wasn’t sad he ditched Lemoine, but she felt sympathy for the woman who had been utterly devoted to Draven. She said, “In all fairness, it’s not a very good disguise.”
“It worked. It brought me here to you.”
The atmosphere changed between them. An exhilarating charge replaced the fraught elation of reunion. Emotions were still high, but this was needier. Hungry. It demanded touch and skin and blood. Charlotte needed to know that he was alive and so was she. She needed to feel him. Devour him.
He grinned, revealing the slightest hint of fang. Judging from the gleam in his eye, he felt the same as she.
“Draven, what are we going to do? You’ll attract too much attention, and I can’t hide you here,” she said. Parting again was out of the question.
“That is a concern,” he said, dipping his head in a nod. His hair was just long enough to flop forward into his eyes. “I heard that your late husband had an impressive collection.”
“Did you?”
Draven stalked forward. Charlotte took a step back, slowly retreating until she bumped against the desk.
“All manner of things. Books and artifacts. If you require assistance with the collection, I’m happy to provide,” he said, his voice low.
“And what type of assistance can you provide?” Charlotte opened her knees wide enough for him to stand against her. His hips rocked forward, demonstrating what he had in mind. How fortunate she had the same notion.
“Shall I list my experience and give you my references?” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “I have several years’ experience curating a private library and collection of notable historic relics.”
“I’ve sold most of the relics,” she said.
“A shame.” He placed a kiss along her jaw and continued down the column of her throat. He licked the location of her artery but continued downward to the swell of her bosom. “I’m sure you’re in need of a librarian. A scholar like yourself will have no time to catalog the collection and see to new acquisitions.”
He pushed up the fabric of her skirts and skimmed his hands along her thighs.
“Sir,” she said in a playful tone. “I don’t know what kind of library you think this is if you believe I cavort with my employees.”
“That’s a shame.” He licked his lips. “I was rather hoping you did.”
She held out her arm, her wrist exposed. “If you need me, you don’t have to ask.”
Draven licked his lips but shook his head. “That is too noticeable. As much as I would love to mark you as mine, that would draw the wrong attention.”
“I won’t let you starve.”
Draven kneeled before and pushed up her skirts. His fingers brushed along her inner thigh. “Here. Inconspicuous, and if anyone notices, we’ll have words.”
“My, aren’t you possessive?” she teased, even as his possessiveness thrilled her.
“About you? Absolutely.”
He pushed open her thighs until she was on display. He licked his lips and with no other warning yanked her forward and lifted her. Her back hit the desk.
His lips and tongue were everywhere. She gasped, overcome by the welcome heat. She reached for his hair, but it was fiendishly short, providing her with nothing to pull. She found an ear and held on tight. Perhaps she pulled a bit too hard. Draven growled, the vibration going right through her core.
Her climax came swift and so powerful that she sobbed in relief. She didn’t think she’d ever see him again and she did. What he did with his mouth was nice, but she missed him. Living the rest of her life without him would have just been existing, not living.
Before she fully came down from that, he bit her thigh. The same brisk, invigorating sensation swept over her. It blended with the lazy, content haze of her release into a floating blissful peace.
Soon enough, Draven licked the wound and rose to his feet. “No tears. Not for me. I don’t deserve them,” he said, brushing the back of his hand against her cheek.
“I thought I lost you,” she said, voice half-sobbing. “And then we’d never get to have that argument.”
He pressed his forehead to hers and laughed. It was deep and warm and unlike any noise she had ever heard him make. She approved.
“Impossible. You can’t lose me. Soulmates, remember. I’ll always find you.” A menacing growl crept into his voice. She also approved.
He’d always find her.
“You’re here,” she whispered.
“I’m here.”
* * *
Later, once the sweat dried and heart rates returned to normal, Draven sat behind the desk. Charlotte sat in his lap; her feet kicked up on the desk. The room was a mess with scattered papers and an overturned bottle of ink soaking into the rug. She didn’t care. A rug was a small price to pay, and no one in her household would be shocked that she knocked over an ink bottle. It happened regularly enough.
“You have a liquor cabinet.” Draven pointed to an object near the desk.
“That is a globe,” she said. Then added, “Of Earth.”
“It’s been a while, but I do recognize the home planet,” he said in a dry tone, padding over to the globe. Charlotte took the opportunity to admire the view. Draven tossed a look over his shoulder, his brows raised.
She lifted a shoulder in a helpless shrug. “I’m only human.”
He felt around under the wooden ring. There was a pop and the top of the globe opened on a hidden hinge. “Liquor cabinet.”
“How extraordinary. I had no idea.”
Inside were dusty bottles. Draven held aloft his prize, a questionable bottle of brandy, and two glasses. He poured a generous portion into each glass.
Charlotte accepted the glass with thanks. She took a cautious sip. The brandy was at least a year old, possibly more. Mellow and fruity, it barely tasted of anything.
“Do you think it would work? Assuming a new name and being in my employ?” she asked in a serious tone.
“I don’t see why not,” Draven said, emptying his glass. He scrunched his nose, as if disappointed in the taste. “An attractive young widow taking a shine to the handsome new librarian? Imagine the scandal.”
Charlotte mulled over his words. “I have decided to spend Lionel’s money in the most scandalous ways possible. I was thinking of orphans, but I could turn his library into a lending library for the public.” The more she considered the idea, the more she liked it. “I’d charge a membership fee to those who could afford it and use those fees to subsidize the poor. Anyone who wants access to the books can.”
“An admirable idea.”
“We can start with opening Vervain’s library to the public and expand to a building in the village.” She couldn’t wait to hear all the outraged noises Lattice would make when she learned of Charlotte’s plans for the great house. “I’ll have to advertise the position, otherwise people will question your arrival. You’ll need a new name.”
He lifted her hand to kiss the back. “A new name and vocation. I cannot wait to woo you again for all to see. You won’t be able to resist my charms,” he said, voice purring.
Charlotte blushed at the wicked promise in his voice, which was silly considering how deeply connected she already felt to him. She only hoped she would use his new name, whatever it would be, and did not slip by calling him Draven. “How did you pick the name Draven?” she asked, curious.
“It’s embarrassing.”
Her entire body perked with interest. “Oh, now I want to hear this story.”
He gave a dramatic sigh. “You won’t let it go until I explain, will you?”
“Not even a little bit.”
“You’ve heard of the novel Dracula?” He stroked her back. “Of course you have. That question was condescending. It’s a famous piece of literature that shaped vampire mythology. You’ve probably annotated a copy and made factual corrections.”
He had grown, she realized. The Draven who ruled on the mountain wouldn’t have cared about condescending tones, let alone apologized. “I’ve not read it, but I know the general premise.”
“Well, there’s an old joke that if you add a period after the second letter, the name becomes. Dr. Acula. I followed suit and used the name Dr. Avenges when I took the Aerie because I was out for revenge.” He ran a hand up the back of his head, ruffling his short hair. “I was very young.”
“You were a grown man in his thirties.”
“A baby,” he insisted. “The first reports misspelled the name, Dravenges. Eventually, the name became shortened to Draven. So now you know.”
“Thank you for sharing,” she said, her tone sincere.
“You can laugh. I see you struggling not to.”
“Thank heavens.” She burst into a laughing fit. Draven’s grim expression only made her laugh harder. She hadn’t laughed in so long her abdomen muscles were weak from disuse and her face hurt. “Doctor…Avenges. You thought that was a good idea?”
Draven
“It was memorable.” He gave up the pretense of keeping a straight face and grinned. It was good to hear her laughter again. He walked hundreds of miles just to hear it again. The connection between them had grown thin and tenuous but its call was impossible to ignore, pulling him forward.
“Since you’re such a critic, what name do you suggest?” he asked.
She tilted her head, considering the question. “Maybe just be Ethan, whoever he is,” she said.
“I can do that, as long as he’s yours.”
That smile. It warmed his nearly-dead heart like nothing else. No inferno could come close. How had he gone so long without knowing her? The pull between them was undeniable. That connection drew him across the West Lands, guiding him home.
There were the practicalities of how they went on from here. He was rather infamous. Disappearing might prove to be tricky. People with his condition had a terrible track record for remaining hidden. There were also the two beasts in the vicinity to consider. No doubt they sensed his presence, just as he sensed theirs. Territorial disputes were not unheard of, but Charlotte was his and this was her territory. He’d defend it tooth and nail, as long as she’d have him.
“Could I interest you in a bath?” she asked.
“Only if you’re in the water too.”
Once they settled into the steaming water, she rested her back against his. He trailed his fingers along her hand, amazed to be touching her again.
“Tell me again,” he said.
“I love you.” She laced their fingers together. “All of you. The good and the bad. Your past and your future. No matter what you call yourself, I’ll know you.”
Her words were a balm to his spirit. The connection between them thrummed.
“My soul. My heart. My love,” he said.