Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
JULIET
I t’s been a little over three weeks since I married Valaric, and we’ve settled in a rather comfortable routine. My training is going well, but it is a bit difficult since I am still so new to it.
Valaric is a patient teacher. Eben has also offered to instruct me, to help me improve faster. He said we could start this evening with an archery lesson.
Living here is so different from everything I’ve ever known. And in many ways, it feels more freeing since I am not under the constant watch of my parents and their insistence that I conform to the societal expectations of a lady of noble birth.
Valaric does not care about such things. In fact, he encourages me to do whatever will make me happiest.
My body has become used to my husband’s nocturnal schedule, but the past few days I’ve started awakening before nightfall so I can spend a few moments enjoying the day.
The warm sunlight on my skin is familiar, a whisper of my life from before. Sitting on a wooden bench in the gardens, I observe the setting sun in the distance. Awareness prickles my skin and a slow smile spreads across my lips as I sense my husband.
Valaric is close by, watching from the shadows.
I’m not sure how to explain it, but with each day we spend together it’s as if I’ve somehow become attuned to his presence, able to detect when he is nearby.
“Shall I come back inside, my dear husband?” I twist to look back toward the castle, searching for him.
“No.” Glowing red eyes materialize in the darkness a moment before he steps forward. “I will come to you.”
Shadows lengthen on the ground as the last light of day filters through the trees. Valaric is dressed in a heavy, black cloak, the hood drawn up to shield his face from the lingering sunlight.
Happiness blooms in my chest at the lengths he’ll go to in order to be by my side, even when it goes against the very nature of his existence.
He sits down and turns to face me. Beneath the shadows of his hood I cannot quite make out his features, but as his crimson eyes meet mine there is no mistaking the warmth reflected in their depths.
Feeling bold, I reach under the edge of his cloak and find his hand. Slipping my palm into his, I smile when he automatically curls his fingers around mine. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes,” he replies, his voice a deep and rich timbre. “And you?”
“I did,” I lie.
In truth, I tossed and turned most of the day, thinking of our marriage. It took me several hours before I finally fell into a deep sleep. I want to ask why he doesn’t wish to share a room. And why he stays in my bed to comfort me when I have a nightmare, but when I wake he is already gone.
He is gentle and kind. Something I never expected him to be. And I know that he cares for me. It’s in every small gesture he makes to ensure I feel cared for and safe. He is always so attentive to my needs. Our relationship is comfortable, but I yearn for a connection that goes beyond warm familiarity and companionship.
As per our bargain, he drinks from me every three days. Each time he does, it leaves my heart pounding and my entire body aching for a closeness we have yet to explore. It’s the most intimate thing I’ve ever experienced, and it ignites a desire within for something more… something deeper.
I want so much to tell him all of this, but every time I try, the words get stuck in my throat. I’m falling in love with my husband, and I’m so afraid that he doesn’t feel the same. I long to reach for him and voice my desires, but I’m not sure if I’m willing to risk losing what we have if he rejects me.
So I bite my tongue and the unspoken questions linger between us as the sun’s final rays slip beneath the horizon, giving way to the darkness of night.
As we sit on the bench, I lean against him, staring up at the night sky. “Do you see that one?” I point to the guiding star of the north. “I used to make a wish on that star almost every night when I was a child.”
“What did you wish for?”
“Lots of things.” I grin. “For a while, I used to wish that I could see a unicorn, until my mother told me there weren’t any left.”
“There are,” he says, and I blink at him, stunned. “It is a lie to protect them from being hunted by men.”
“Have you seen one?”
He shakes his head. “Damar has. Most of them live in Anlara—the Fae Kingdom.”
“I also wanted to see a Dragon,” I tell him. “But then I met a Dwarf who told me what fearsome beings they are. and I changed my mind.” I smile at him. “That’s also when I started wishing that I could see a real-life pixie.”
Valaric’s expression softens and his lips quirk at the edges in a smile. “Perhaps we can find a way to make that come true.”
Heat rises in my cheeks as he looks at me. He’s so handsome sometimes it hurts to look at him. “What about you?” I ask, turning my head slightly to hide my blush. “Did you ever stargaze?”
He nods. “My grandmother taught us all the constellations. She would tell us the stories for each one.” A faint smile curls his mouth. “Of course, me and my brother loved the tale of the “Great Warrior,” but my sister”—his voice thickens with emotion—“she was fascinated with the story of the “Goddess of Spring.”
Gently, I squeeze his hand, my heart breaking for all that he’s lost.
“I wish you could have met them,” he says softly. “I think they would have liked you.”
“I feel the same about my father.”
“He wouldn’t have cared that I’m a Vampire?” Valaric arches a brow. “Worried that his daughter was placed under a thrall.”
I laugh. “All right, maybe he would have been concerned at first,” I admit with a grin. “But he would have eventually come around.”
The winter landscape stretches around us, a serene blanket of snow covering every surface. The cold air bites at my skin, but I don’t mind. Valaric’s nearness and his hand in mine is enough to keep me warm.
Our conversation is interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching through the snow. Eben appears, a wide grin on his face, a bow in one hand and a quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder. “Good evening.” He looks at me. “I thought we might start our training.”
Valaric tenses, his crimson eyes locked onto the wolf shifter. “What training?”
To anyone else, my husband might appear composed, but I notice the tic of the muscles along his jaw and the slight narrowing of his eyes.
Eben flashes a sly grin. “I thought I’d give your lovely wife a few archery lessons.”
Until now, Valaric has been my only instructor, and we’ve been practicing with wooden staffs instead of actual weapons. Eben is constantly teasing Valaric that he is going to steal me away from him. It’s all in good jest, but Elsie said Vampires are like wolf shifters—extremely possessive of their mates.
And as darkness begins to bleed in around the edges of Valaric’s blood red eyes, it seems Eben may have taken his joking a bit too far lately.
Valaric rises with a fluid grace, his movements deceptively calm. He strides over to Eben, snatching the bow and quiver from his friend’s grasp. “As I am more proficient with the bow and arrow, your lessons ”—he emphasizes the word—“will not be necessary. I will teach Juliet.”
Eben chuckles, raising his hands in surrender. “All right, all right,” he says, backing away with a playful smirk. “Just trying to help, Val. Don’t get your fangs in a twist.” He winks at me, and Valaric growls low in his throat. “I’ll leave you both to it then.”
Valaric watches Eben retreat, leveling a dark glare in his direction until he disappears from view. Then he turns to me, his expression softening. “Shall we begin?”
After he sets up a target, Valaric stands behind me. My back is pressed against his solid, muscular chest, and my pulse quickens as his powerful form covers mine. I nearly drop the bow as his strong arms encircle me, his hands resting over my own, and his masculine scent flooding my senses.
“Like this,” he murmurs, the smell of warm mint skating over my cheek as his lips brush the shell of my ear.
Heat floods my entire body as he readjusts my grip on the bow, every touch igniting a spark deep within.
“Focus on your breathing. Feel the tension in the bowstring.” His voice is a low and sensuous purr as his hands slide down my arms. “Like this.”
My breath catches as he rests his cheek against mine, his closeness overwhelming.
“Now, aim.”
I’m slightly dizzy and breathless under the gentle command of his touch, unable to ignore the desire that builds within at the feel of his hands on me, and the strong beat of his heart against my back.
“Steady,” he breathes. The world around us fades away as I focus on the target and the sound of his voice. “And release.”
I let the arrow fly, watching in triumph as it hits slightly left of the center mark. I turn my head, and then inhale sharply as my mouth accidentally brushes against his.
Warmth creeps up my neck to my face as his eyes lock onto mine, smoldering embers of red swirling with black.
My pulse races. His lips are so close to mine, we share each breath. The smell of mint and cedar washing over my skin.
Intense need unfurls deep within as his eyes lower to my neck and then return to my mouth. I cannot tell if it’s desire or hunger that turns them obsidian black. I only know that I want so much to kiss him. To feel his lips upon mine.
It would be so easy to close the small gap between us, but when I try to make myself move, I cannot. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as my nerves get the best of me.
As if sensing my hesitation, Valaric takes a small step back. “We should stop for the evening,” he whispers. And I do not know if he is speaking of our lessons or the tension between us that makes desire coil tightly within.
I only know that I’m falling for my husband. And as his intense gaze holds mine, I’m beginning to believe that perhaps he feels the same.