Chapter 17
Archer
Istraightened my collar for about the hundredth time and fussed with my hair a bit more in the mirror.
For some reason, I just couldn’t get it to look the way I wanted.
And of course it would be uncooperative on the night that I was finally going to Valen’s place to spend the night.
I wanted to look handsome for him, not like some frumpy college kid.
I wanted him to know that I was taking this entire situation seriously.
Just when I was about to start fussing with it again, there was a knock on my dorm room door. I paused, wondering if I should ignore it. I didn’t want anyone to know I was leaving. In fact, I planned on casting the invisibility charm before I even left the room.
“I know you’re in there, Archer,” I heard Amelia’s voice say through the door. “I can smell the cologne from here.”
I sighed and walked over to the door, opening it to find my sister leaning against the frame with her arms crossed and a knowing smirk on her face.
“Going somewhere special?” she asked, pushing past me into the room without waiting for an invitation.
“Maybe,” I said, closing the door behind her. “What do you want, Amelia?”
She turned to face me, and I could see the concern beneath her teasing expression.
“I want to know what’s going on with you.
You’ve been different lately. Distracted.
And now you’re getting all dressed up to sneak out somewhere.
” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “This is about that vampire professor, isn’t it? ”
I felt heat creep up my neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit.” She sat down on my desk chair, spinning it around to face me. “You took my advice, didn’t you? About rebelling against Mother and Father?”
There was no point in lying to her. Amelia had always been able to read me like an open book, and besides, she was the one who’d encouraged me to pursue this in the first place.
“Yes,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair. “But it’s complicated.”
“Good complicated or bad complicated?”
I thought about Valen’s confession earlier, about the feeding and the way he’d looked at me when I’d told him I wanted to be his. About the invitation to his house and the promise of spending the night together.
“I don’t know yet,” I said honestly. “But I’m about to find out.”
Amelia studied my face for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “You’re really doing this, aren’t you? You’re actually going to see where this leads.”
“I think I am, yeah.”
She stood up and walked over to me, placing her hands on my shoulders. “Then be careful, okay? I know I pushed you to rebel, but I don’t want you to get hurt. Emotionally or otherwise.”
The concern in her voice made my chest tighten. “I will be. I promise.”
“And Archer?” She squeezed my shoulders gently. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re braver than you give yourself credit for. Following your heart instead of Father’s expectations. That takes courage.”
I felt a sudden urge to hug her, this sister who knew me better than anyone and still supported me even when I was making potentially catastrophic decisions.
“Thank you,” I said, pulling her into a quick embrace. “For everything.”
“Just promise me you’ll tell me how it goes,” she said, pulling back with a grin. “I want all the details. Well, not ALL the details, but you know what I mean.”
I laughed despite my nerves. “I’ll tell you what I can.”
She headed for the door, then paused with her hand on the handle. “You sure you’re not just doing this because I told you to?”
“I’m positive,” I nodded. “But I think you should go out and do something for yourself too, and stop worrying about me.”
“Hmm,” she grinned. “Maybe I will.” She held up a hand, pushing the door open. “See ya.”
After she left, I stood there for a moment, feeling oddly lighter. Having Amelia’s support, knowing that someone was in my corner no matter what happened, made this feel less like I was jumping off a cliff and more like I was finally taking control of my own life.
I grabbed my jacket and took one last look in the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, nervous but determined. Tonight was going to change everything, one way or another.
I whispered the invisibility charm, feeling the familiar tingle of magic as it settled over me like a second skin, and slipped out of my room into the darkened hallway.
Outside, campus was quieter at night, with only the occasional student hurrying between buildings or the distant sound of laughter from someone’s dorm room.
I kept to the shadows out of habit more than necessity.
The invisibility charm would hide me from casual observation, but it wasn’t foolproof.
Enhanced senses like Valen’s could still detect me if he was looking for me specifically.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I made my way across the quad toward the faculty housing complex.
I’d looked up Valen’s address in the student directory earlier, though I’d had to be careful about it.
I didn’t want anyone to know what I was up to and the card catalogue with all the information in it was right beside the librarian’s desk.
The faculty residences were tucked away on the far side of campus, a collection of elegant townhouses and small cottages that housed the professors who chose to live on campus.
It made sense that Valen would live here.
It gave him convenient access to his classes and the fencing salle, but it was private enough for a centuries-old vampire who probably valued his solitude.
I found his townhouse number easily enough, tucked in the back corner of the complex. His residence was a modest two-story cottage with ivy climbing the brick walls and warm light spilling from the windows. It looked normal, domestic even. Nothing like what I’d expected for a vampire’s lair.
I stood at the end of his walkway for a moment, letting the invisibility charm drop as I tried to work up the courage to actually knock on his door.
This was it. The point of no return. Once I walked up those steps and knocked, there would be no pretending this was just academic curiosity or rebellious impulses.
This was me making a conscious choice to pursue something dangerous and complicated that could destroy both our lives if things went wrong.
But as I stood there in the darkness, I realized I wasn’t afraid anymore. Nervous, yes. Excited, absolutely. But not afraid. Because whatever happened tonight, it would be my choice. My decision. Not something dictated by family expectations or social pressure.
I walked up the path and knocked softly on his door.
It opened almost immediately, like he’d been waiting just inside.
Valen stood there in dark jeans and a simple black sweater that somehow made him look even more devastatingly attractive than his usual professor attire.
His amber eyes swept over me, taking in my carefully chosen outfit, and I caught the slight smile that tugged at his lips.
“You came,” he said, and there was something almost surprised in his tone, like part of him hadn’t believed I’d actually show up.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“I thought you might come to your senses,” he admitted, stepping aside to let me in. “That you’d decide this was too risky after all.”
I stepped across the threshold, immediately struck by how warm and inviting his home felt.
It had rich wood floors, comfortable furniture, and bookshelves that reached from floor to ceiling.
It felt lived in, and personal in a way that his office didn’t.
It felt like a home people actually lived in, nothing like my parent’s estate that seemed mostly for decoration.
“I did come to my senses,” I said, turning to face him as he closed the door behind me. “That’s exactly why I’m here.”
Valen’s expression shifted at my words, something almost vulnerable flickering across his features before he seemed to catch himself.
He gestured toward the living room, and I followed him deeper into the space, taking in the details that revealed so much more about him than his carefully controlled professional persona ever had.
There were fencing trophies on the mantelpiece, some of them looking far more than just antique.
Photographs in silver frames showed him with people I didn’t recognize.
Some were printed on tin and in period clothing that suggested they’d been taken more than a century ago.
I supposed that put the stereotype about vampires and photography to bed once and for all.
There was also a chess set that sat half-finished on a side table, and I wondered if he played against himself or if he had regular opponents.
The book beside it, however, was still sitting open under a small lamp.
“Drink?” he asked, moving toward what looked like a well-stocked bar cart. “I have wine, bourbon, or I could make coffee if you prefer.”
“Wine sounds good,” I said, settling onto his leather couch. The nervousness I’d felt outside was starting to fade, replaced by genuine curiosity about this glimpse into his private life. “This place is beautiful. How long have you lived here?”
“A little over a year,” he replied, pulling out a bottle of red wine that looked old and expensive. “I started teaching at Widdershins last year. Before that, I had a place in Boston, but I thought living on campus would make teaching and coaching easier.”
I watched him open the wine with practiced efficiency, his movements as graceful here as they were in the fencing salle. There was something almost domestic about the scene that made me both happy and a bit nervous at the same time.
“Only a year,” I mused. “That’s barely a blink of an eye for someone who’s lived for centuries.”
He handed me a glass, his fingers brushing mine briefly.
Even that small contact sent electricity up my arm.
“Time moves differently when you’re immortal,” he said, settling into the chair across from me rather than beside me on the couch.
“Years can feel like months, decades like years. But sometimes...” His amber eyes met mine.
“Sometimes a single moment can feel like it lasts forever.”
The weight of his gaze made my pulse quicken. I took a sip of wine to steady myself, surprised by how smooth and rich it was. “Is that what it’s like when you feed? Time slowing down?”
His grip tightened slightly on his wine glass. “Among other things.”
“Is it that way with me?” I asked, emboldened by the wine and the intimacy of being in his private space. “Do I help stretch the moments out?”
Valen was quiet for a long moment, staring into his wine like it held the answers to questions he didn’t want to ask. When he finally looked up, there was something raw in his expression that made my breath catch.
“With you, it’s like drowning,” he said quietly. “Like being pulled under by something so powerful and overwhelming that I forget everything else exists. Every time I’ve fed from you, I’ve lost control in ways I haven’t experienced since I was newly turned.”
The confession hung heavy between us, filling the room. I could see the conflict in his features, the way admitting this vulnerability clearly cost him.
“I guess I should take that as a compliment then,” I said, sipping my wine. “It sounds pretty romantic when you put it that way.”
Valen’s laugh was soft but bitter. “Romantic. That’s not usually how people describe vampiric feeding.” He took a long sip of his wine, his amber eyes never leaving mine. “Most people find the concept disturbing.”
“Well, I’m not most people,” I said, leaning forward slightly. “And I meant what I said earlier. I want to understand. All of it. Besides, you said your type of feeding is mutually beneficial, so I don’t see how that can be bad.”
Something shifted in his expression, a hunger flickering behind his careful composure. He set down his wine glass and stood up, moving to the window that overlooked the small garden behind his cottage.
“You say that now,” he murmured, his back to me. “But you don’t really know what you’re asking for, Archer. The intensity of it… it can change things between people. It creates bonds that can be difficult to break.”
I stood up as well, crossing the room to stand behind him. Close enough to feel that cool air that seemed to emanate from his skin, but not quite touching. “What kind of bonds?”
“The kind that make it impossible to think clearly around someone,” he said, his voice rough. “The kind that make you crave their presence even when you know being near them is a bad idea. The kind that make you want to claim them in ways that go far beyond the physical.”
My pulse quickened at his words, at the barely restrained want I could hear beneath his careful control. “And you think that would be a bad thing?”
He turned around then, and the look in his eyes made my breath catch. Raw hunger mixed with something that looked almost like fear. “I think the development of a bond like that would complicate an already impossible situation beyond repair.”
“Maybe,” I admitted, stepping closer until there was barely any space between us. “Or maybe it would make it worth the risk.”
For a moment, we just stood there, the tension crackling between us like electricity. I could see the war playing out behind his amber eyes, desire battling against centuries of learned caution. Then, slowly, he reached up to cup my face in his hands.
“You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?” he whispered, his thumbs tracing along my cheekbones.
“Probably not,” I breathed, leaning into his touch. “You are immortal after all. So why not give it a go?”
That broke something in him. I saw it in the way his pupils dilated, in the flash of fangs as his lips parted. His control, that careful professional distance he’d been maintaining, finally crumbled completely.
“Upstairs,” he said, his voice dropping to a growl that sent heat straight to my cock. “Now. Before I change my mind.”