Vampire King vs Huntress
Matilda’s breath grew ragged as she ran through the forest as if her life depended on it.
It did.
She huffed and puffed, pumping her arms and legs as she attempted to escape her dreaded fate.
Iced branches reached out, whipping her face, leaving behind angry red scratches against her cheeks.
They tore at her cloak and snagged her curls, threatening to snatch her bald.
Gnarled tree roots protruded through the snow, forcing her to hurdle over them to avoid tripping.
Matilda’s anxiety ramped up as the sun began to wane.
She couldn’t navigate well in the dark thanks to not being blessed with night vision; however, she couldn’t say the same for the monster that hunted her.
She had to either fight or hide. Fighting was the least ideal scenario since the vampire king disarmed her of her sword before she took off running toward the forest. She still had her bow and plenty of arrows, but with his agility, he’d easily dodge them.
Hiding was her best option if she wanted to live—her only option.
“Five thousand gold pieces sounded fortuitous at the time, but it is not enough!” Matilda declared as she searched for refuge.
Her plan of attack wasn’t as thorough as she had hoped.
In fact, there were more holes in her plan than she could count, but with the limited turnaround time, Matilda had to work with what she had—attack King Alesi’s convoy en route to Moonshire.
Out of breath and stamina, she crawled into the large hollow of a massive tree. She closed her eyes and focused on steadying her breathing, praying her pulse would calm by the time he caught up.
“Huntress… there’s no sense in hiding from me,” Luka voiced, leather boots crunching on the snow. He shook his head with a guttural laugh as he tracked the dainty footprints left in the snow. “I can hear your heart racing like the fluttering of hummingbird wings.”
Luka closed his eyes and listened to the roar of her blood as it forced its way through her constricted veins like a rushing river of rubies.
His tongue caressed his bottom lip, moistening the pink crescent.
His fangs ached to sink into flesh—no guilt to be had because he planned to eviscerate her and leave her nearly drained body to endure the elements and the creatures of the night.
He imagined she’d take her last haggard breaths staring at the night sky as snowflakes fell, nestling in the upward curve of long black lashes.
He reached the tree where she hid from her inevitable fate.
He pressed his palm against the trunk, pale hand contrasting against the blackness of the bark.
He could feel her body heat permeate the thick wood and heard her breath catch in her throat.
They both stilled in their unholy standoff—Vampire King and Huntress, who were as unlikely as oil and water, Heaven and Hell.
He pressed his nose to the tree and inhaled deeply.
He groaned, and she whimpered as the notes of her blood played a melody for him—a tune that reminded him of his Anastasia when she played the harpsichord for him.
That was one of their favorite pastimes.
Anastasia would drag him out of his study, and he’d protest, feigning he was inundated with various documents, treaties, and other tedious matters that only he could attend.
She’d ask him what was more important, her or the kingdom.
The answer was always her. They’d sequester themselves in her private quarters, where she was free to explore her artistic gifts.
She had covered the walls with murals depicting her vision of Heaven, a place she would never see.
Yet that had never deterred her. Anastasia’s Heaven was not filled with clouds or angels. It was filled with them.
She had painted moments from the life they shared: the two of them dangling their feet in the river behind the castle, strolling hand in hand beneath the midnight sky, and Luka sitting quietly beside her as her fingers danced across the harpsichord keys.
His favorite, however, was the simplest of them all: the two of them lying together in bed at night.
He’d smooth his hand down her body, enjoying their nearness and the sheer fabric of her nightgown, the one he couldn’t seem to part with.
He balled his fist at the memories. His queen was taken away from him because of hunters, and coincidentally, a hunter was at his mercy…
“Come out,” Luka ordered.
“No,” Matilda snapped.
“No?” he repeated, surprised she would deny his request.
“It appears that superior hearing is working for you.”
Luka narrowed his eyes, unappreciative of her sharp, unyielding tongue. “You jest when you are seconds away from meeting the great beyond?”
“These might be my last words. I should make them count. What better way than to irritate and discomfort you? Maybe it will buy me a quick death.”
“Irritation? Yes. Discomfort? Never.”
“Are you sure about that, King of Bloodsuckers? I can hear the tightness in your tone.”
Luka sighed. “Have you said your Lord’s Prayer yet?” he asked, already tired of her antics.
“No need.”
“And why is that, pray tell?”
“Because it’s not my time to die yet,” Matilda declared.
“I am the one who holds your life in his hands, and I’ve very much decided it is your time to go.”
“I don’t believe it. If that were your intention, then you would’ve killed me by now.”
“I’m patient. I enjoy taking my time.”
“Didn’t your mother tell you not to play with your food?”
“Playing with my food? Never. It’s more like enjoying a robust wine—taking my time and relishing it until the very last drop.”
“I apologize, Mr. Blood Wine Connoisseur, but you will not be delighting in Matilda Beaumont this eve.”
“Matilda Beaumont is your name, is it?”
“Do not be so informal with me, vamp. That is Mistress Matilda Beaumont to you!”
“I tire of you, woman. You talk too much. I can’t imagine how your husband deals with you.” Matilda giggled as she prepared the poison arrow in her hand. She hoped he’d keep talking long enough for her to finish. “What is amusing?”
“You are fishing.”
“Fishing?”
“You’re wondering if I am available for the taking. I’ll let you down easy, King Alesi. I am currently unattached to a man, but I am unavailable to you.”
“I can have any woman I desire,” he proclaimed.
“Funny. I don’t see a queen by your side.”
Luka’s vision reddened at the mention of his queen. In one swift motion, he stood before the hollow and dropped to his knees to peer into the dark hole.
“Ah! You fucking wench!” he screamed when she gouged his eye with the arrowhead.
Matilda crawled out of the hollow, ignoring the enraged vampire king, who rolled around on the snowy ground.
She sprinted through the forest, cursing herself for not stabbing the other eye out.
But she didn’t have time to chastise herself for her careless mistake.
She had to get as far away from King Alesi as possible.
Thirty minutes later, Luka could see out of his eye again after the tissues and muscles had reformed.
“How ironic,” he said, chuckling to himself.
“It is I who is laying on his back, looking at the sky as the snowflakes fall.” He wiped the snow from his lashes and climbed to his feet.
“Playtime is over,” he declared before his wings erupted from his back.
“You will die, Matilda Beaumont,” he said before shooting off into the sky.