14. Bryony
brYONY
Adrian had come to speak to me. He could do it from the other side of the gate.
Stellan’s arm stayed around my waist. The chain behind him stretched across the garden, tight enough to leave no doubt about how quickly Harrowmere could pull him away.
Adrian looked at his hand on me. Black light moved between Adrian’s fingers and faded against the silver ward.
“Bryony, you’ve been trapped under this house for hours with a vampire who needs your blood to escape. Step closer so we can speak without him influencing the conversation.”
“You can hear me perfectly well from there.”
“I can. I’m concerned about what he can make you feel while you answer.”
Stellan’s body went still against mine. He didn’t speak for me or pull me away. The choice to remain beside him stayed mine.
“He’s already explained what he can and can’t do,” I said. “You grabbed my injured hand and forced it against the throne. Your concern has poor timing.”
Adrian’s expression barely changed. “I was trying to stop the court sealing you inside. The Claiming began because Stellan opened a royal passage and drew you deeper into Harrowmere. I acted too late, and I regret frightening you.”
It was a polished answer. He made violence sound like an unfortunate problem with his timing.
“You said you came to speak. Speak.”
His gaze settled on me. “Take the Crown, and Harrowmere will obey you. You can open the upper doors, end the Claiming and walk out tonight. I’ll give you the exact command. You can return to Leeds, settle Edith’s estate and decide what happens to this place from somewhere safe.”
The offer pressed against everything I wanted. I wanted my own bed and a working phone. Even the compliance files waiting on my laptop sounded normal enough to ache for. I wanted space to grieve without a hungry court watching it.
Stellan’s arm remained loose around me. He wanted me away from Adrian. He also wanted me free. Both feelings reached me, and neither forced my answer.
“What happens to Stellan?” I asked.
Adrian glanced at him. “The Crown will restore the chains until you decide how to deal with him. He survived them for more than a century. He’ll remain contained and unable to follow you.”
“You left out the command for his heartblood.”
Silence settled beyond the gate.
I continued before Adrian could shape another reasonable lie. “You need me wearing the Crown because Harrowmere won’t accept you otherwise. Then you need me to order Stellan to surrender enough blood for you to replace him. He dies. You become Blood King. Which part opens my front door?”
“He’s given you the ugliest version of a necessary transfer.
” Adrian placed both hands behind his back.
The black light disappeared. “Stellan killed the last woman who wore that Crown. He’ll kill you when the chains fail.
His hunger has already persuaded you to feed him once, and every willing drop gives him more freedom. ”
“You know I fed him?”
“I felt the chain break.”
Stellan’s hand tightened once at my waist. “He feels what the court loses. He doesn’t feel what happened between us.”
Adrian’s mouth flattened. He’d wanted me to believe otherwise.
I looked down at the silver line sealing the gate. “Can you open Harrowmere without me wearing the Crown?”
“No.”
“Then you haven’t brought me an exit. You’ve brought me the same fucking trap with nicer wording.”
The roses nearest Adrian opened. Their thorns turned towards him.
His calm expression hardened. “Edith died to keep you ignorant. Stellan will use that ignorance until every chain is open. When you understand what he did to Cecily, remember that I gave you a way out.”
“You gave me a crown you want to use as a knife.” I stepped back from the gate. “I’m not wearing it.”
Adrian struck the ward with one palm.
Silver light flashed over the bars. The garden vines rose, but the seal held and threw the black light back at him. He moved out of reach before the thorns arrived.
“The barrier won’t fucking hold forever,” he said. “When it breaks, Stellan won’t be the only hungry vampire inside.”
He turned and disappeared into the dark passage beyond the gate.
I waited until his footsteps had faded. The roses stayed aimed at the empty arch.
I wanted the exit he’d described. Wanting it didn’t make his offer safe. I could picture my flat clearly enough to ache for it, but the Crown would follow me into every room if it couldn’t be removed. Stellan would remain here with Adrian, and I already knew what Adrian planned to take from him.
Refusing hadn’t been difficult. Accepting that there was still no easy way home was worse.
“Was any part of that offer true?” I asked.
“The Crown could open the upper doors,” Stellan said. “It would also give Adrian the command he needs. He can’t promise you’d remove it afterwards because no crowned heir has ever taken it off while her king remained alive.”
I looked at him. “That would have been useful information earlier.”
“You hadn’t asked whether the Crown came off.” His mouth tightened when he heard his own answer. “And I promised direct answers. That one needed to be given without waiting for the perfect question.”
“Yes, it did.”
“I’m sorry.”
The apology arrived without an excuse. I let it settle rather than making him work for a quick reply.
“When you remember something important, start with the honest answer,” I said. “Don’t hide it inside an omission.”
“I’ll do it.”
We walked back towards the spring. The silver path stayed open under our joined hands. Stellan’s chain followed with a low scrape, and the constant pull eased once the gate was out of sight.
He didn’t congratulate me for refusing or turn it into a test I’d passed. He kept pace beside me and let the garden close between Adrian and us. That quiet trust helped more than praise would have.
“How far away is he?” I asked.
Stellan tilted his head. “He’s stopped beyond the second turn. He has two guards with him now. One has armour that catches against the wall when he moves. Adrian is waiting to see whether you come back.”
I glanced over my shoulder. The passage beyond the gate looked empty. “You can hear all that from here?”
“He isn’t being quiet.”
I listened again. “I still can’t hear anything apart from your chain and the water.”
Amusement warmed Stellan’s face. “Would you like to?”
We reached the sheltered pool. Steam softened the air, and the roses closed behind us until the outer gate disappeared.
“You said I could experience some of your senses,” I said. “Show me.”
His gaze moved over my face. “It’ll be intense for a few seconds. Stay close, and don’t try to follow every sound at once.”
“That sounded suspiciously like sensible advice.”
“I’ve been saving it for the right woman.”
The answer earned him a smile. The look he gave me afterwards carried more heat than another joke could have managed.
Stellan sat on the curved bench and drew me between his knees. His hand moved from mine to my hip while the other rested at the back of my neck.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
I did.
His thumb stroked once under my hair. “Listen to the spring.”
Water bubbled against stone. I heard the small splash where it entered the pool and the softer rush of the channel outside. Nothing unusual.
Then Stellan opened his senses to me.
The garden became loud.
The first rush made me grip his shoulders. Stellan’s arm tightened around my waist and held me steady. I worked out which sounds belonged close to us and which travelled from the passages. Nothing blurred together. There was simply far more of the world than I usually noticed.
Water rushed under the floor in several separate streams. Rose stems creaked as they turned towards the gate. Far beyond them, metal touched stone with a thin scrape.
A guard shifted his sword.
Someone breathed through his mouth. Adrian’s slower breath came from farther away. I could pick each sound apart as easily as voices in a quiet room.
Under all of it, my heartbeat filled my ears.
I opened my eyes. “That’s unsettling.”
Stellan’s hand stayed warm at my neck. “You’re trying to hear everything. Choose one sound.”
I closed my eyes again and found the spring. The other noises dropped back. Water moved somewhere under my boots, warm from the rock and rising towards the pool.
“I can hear where it comes from.”
“Good. Now the roses.”
I followed the dry movement along the wall. One flower opened near my shoulder. Its petals brushed each other with a whisper I would never have noticed alone.
Stellan plucked it from the vine.
The tiny snap sounded sharp. The rose touched my cheek a moment later.
“You cheated,” I said.
“I gave you something worth listening for.”
He drew the flower slowly along my jaw. My skin caught every change in pressure. The velvet surface of each petal felt distinct, followed by the cooler edge where the rose turned.
I also felt the exact shape of his fingers around the stem and the faint movement of his breath against my temple. Borrowing his senses meant borrowing his attention. For those few seconds, every part of it rested on me.
His borrowed senses made the touch spread farther than it ought to have. Heat travelled down my throat and settled under my jumper.
“Is touch always this strong for you?”
“When I’m feeding or aroused. At the moment, both memories are close.”
His voice reached me in layers. I heard the movement of his mouth, the faint brush of a fang against his lower lip and the deeper vibration in his chest.
I opened my eyes.
He sat close enough that my knees pressed against his thighs. The red rose remained between his fingers beside my face.
“What about sight?” I asked.
Stellan looked towards the darkest corner beyond the pool. “Choose somewhere the lamps don’t reach.”
I faced it. At first I saw black stone and the edge of a vine. Then the shadows thinned. Fine cracks appeared in the wall. Water shone inside one of them. A small black beetle moved over a leaf and vanished behind a thorn.
“I can see the insect.”
“I can hear it.”
I turned back to him. The advantages were obvious when his gaze dropped to my mouth.
His gaze dropped to my mouth.
The sharp hearing gave me his slow breath. The scent of roses deepened, mixed with warm stone, water and something darker that belonged to him. I had noticed his scent before. Now I caught blood, clean skin and the faint trace of smoke from the sitting-room fire.
“Can you smell what I’m feeling?” I asked.
“Some of it.” His fingers tightened at my hip. “Fear changes the skin. Desire changes blood flow and body heat. I don’t need either scent when your pulse is this close.”
His thumb settled over the beat in my throat.
The borrowed senses faded, leaving ordinary sound behind. His touch didn’t become less intense.
“You’ve been listening to my heartbeat since I arrived,” I said.
“I’ve tried to be polite about it.”
“Have you?”
“By vampire standards.”
I laughed and put my hands on his shoulders. Silver hair slid over my fingers, cool and soft. His eyes followed my mouth when I moved closer.
“Can you tell when I’m lying?” I asked.
“No. A pulse can change for anger, fear, desire or because you’ve walked across the garden. Anyone who claims it proves a lie is guessing.”
“Can you tell when I want something?”
“Sometimes.”
His voice lowered. He knew exactly where the question was going.
I looked at his mouth.
My heartbeat changed.
Stellan’s lips curved. “That one was clear.”