Chapter Eighteen
Dracul
Since I had received the news that Valora planned to escape, my heart had been broken. In the end, despite my best efforts to show her my feelings, to prove that there was something worthwhile for her with me, she still felt compelled to leave. Our evening of stargazing had affected her, and I could tell she was beginning to notice how I felt about her. Maybe I’d come on too strong and driven her to leave, but deep down, I knew her justification of finding her brother was true. Her loyalty to him overrode any feelings she harbored for me, and that fact stung my pride.
That night had been almost perfect. She’d eagerly listened to my stories, stories I wanted to share with her. There had been many times I wanted to gather her in my arms and kiss her, even though it was too early for that. But as we had gazed at the comet together, she had not shied away from my touch. That alone had given me the hope that she would maybe choose to stay—until she had fled. Her face had been flushed and she’d stumbled over her words. I knew she felt something towards me. But in the end, she had still decided to leave.
The decision to leave Valora in the Whispering Pool for three days fully cleaved my heart in two. By then, I knew it was too late to reveal her as my dragaria to the others. The Lords would only assume I was making excuses to keep her out of trouble. Even though I had been angry she had deigned to escape, they had been livid . Most of them, with the exception of Hiram and Lorka, had clamored for her immediate execution. She had committed the gravest sin a Dragon Maiden could by abandoning her Lord. Only Lord Hiram’s point that she had not fully taken the oath had quieted their calls for her death.
From the moment I had sealed her in the Whispering Pool, my true hell had begun—never knowing whether she lived or not, how the creature in the Whispering Pool treated her, not to mention the rapidly dropping temperatures. I had kept my word that the boy, Henrick, had not been punished, but with each passing moment of imagining her in there, I had to fight the urge to find him and tear his head off. He had helped her escape, allowed her to leave—my dragaria ! Only the thought of her reaction when she found out—if she survived—stayed my hand. I could all too easily imagine her look of disappointment and despair when she realized what I had done.
The other Lords went about their days like nothing had happened, but I was unable to. I could feel my already short temper snapping at any minor inconvenience. The servants brought me food, but their mere presence irritated me. How dare they be there when she could not? From time to time, the Lords checked in on me, their constant nagging driving me insane. Their visits increased in frequency the longer time went on, checking to see if I had eaten, if I had slept, if I was fine. I could not stand it.
Verhorn had made the mistake of saying that it was a mercy we’d sent her to the Whispering Pool, that if this was how I was going to act then maybe we should have just killed her on the spot. I had thrown him against the wall, steam flowing out of my nostrils, a murderous rage slipping over me. Three of the other Lords had to pry me off him, and after they left, I had trashed my quarters, throwing papers and books everywhere. What was the use if she was not there? I convinced myself I could still feel her presence so the Whispering Pool must not have killed her. But on the third day of no sleep and no food, I knew I was delirious. I could not face the thought of her death.
I paced in front of the stone hours before sunrise, waiting for my chance to open the cave. Due to its design, I could not hear anything happening within the Whispering Pool, a fact that made me crazier than I already was. Hiram had stopped by briefly, but when he saw my face, he returned to his quarters. I knew I looked insane, a true madman, but I did not care.
Finally, when it was time for the cave to be opened, I threw the stone aside, rushing inside to see her. I hoped she was alive—she needed to be alive. If Valora was dead then I would tear this mountain apart stone by stone, crushing everyone inside it and turning everything to ash.
When I found her unharmed, I immediately felt myself coming back to life. She was mine once again, and now I stroked her hair in my quarters, hardly believing that she was lying on my lap. Surprisingly, she did not shy away from my touch—in fact, she seemed to relish it. My fingers trembled with emotion as I stared at her face, her serenely beautiful face. I knew that I could never let her go again. Just this once had almost ruined me, and I was so afraid of what monster I would turn into if she was not by my side.
“You are my dragaria ,” I whispered to her sleeping face, hardly believing that the Whispering Pool, Kessland, had told her to ask. “It means I am wholeheartedly yours, now and forever.” I lifted a lock of her raven hair to my lips and kissed it. “And you are mine.”