As we head into the mountains proper—leaping across chasms as if they were nothing; running up the side of murderously rocky slopes as if they were flat ground, and he takes us airborne time and time again until I grow used to the sight of the uninterrupted blue sky and the clouds with nothing to anchor us but Corvan himself—a profound thought hits me.
This man… this vampire…
He could do anything. To me, to the ordinary humans that populate Rahava. His power is seemingly endless.
To see Corvan angered would be a terrifying thing indeed.
And the only things tethering him to the world of mortals; to goodness and dignity and honor…
Are himself and his people.
And perhaps… me.
How strong he must be, of mind and character, to stay in that castle and carry out the duties of a lord; to take responsibility for his people and attend to mundane tasks like paperwork and administration and taxes, to continue to pay heed to the wellbeing of his servants and his soldiers.
To show such discipline and restraint.
Here is a man of immense power, and he chooses to stay bound to his mortality, even though he could take the entire world for himself if he wished.
Other men I’ve known… with such power in their grasp, they would behave very, very differently.
What makes a man good?
What makes a man evil?
The air grows thinner, the cliffs more precarious. Snow is everywhere, pristine and blinding. I start to feel lightheaded and giddy. All I can focus on is his broad chest and the feeling of being encased in his powerful arms; it’s as if he’ll never, ever let me go.
I don’t want him to let me go. And now I know that he won’t hurt me.
Back there, after we fucked, when he tasted my blood once again…
He was so magnificently restrained.
Delicate and tender.
Erotically so.
And here I am, being carried away into the dangerous Khaturian Mountains, and I’m getting all warm and flustered, and it’s a good thing I can’t see his face right now, because I don’t know what I would do.
The last time… when he drank from me…
I’m loath to admit it, but I enjoyed it.
Suddenly, we shift direction. The momentum changes as Corvan begins to slow.
We’re going down, and the precarious stone slopes have turned into a gentle undulating mass of snow.
We’re descending into a valley, and there’s a river there, snaking through the snow-covered plains, and it’s not frozen over; in fact, steam rises from its brilliant aquamarine surface. On either side of the river are verdant green bushes, thick and lush, leaves gleaming in the brilliant sunlight. Now I can see stones as well; flat, polished by the constant flow of water, covered in silvery-green moss.
It’s breathtakingly beautiful.
Corvan stops on a rocky outcrop that gives us a commanding view of the landscape below.
In the distance, I see a herd of hulking black shapes moving slowly across the snowy plain. They look like cows, only they have long horns and long coats of shaggy fur.
“Karakin,” Corvan informs me.
I’ve never heard of such creatures. There’s so much beyond the borders of Ruen that I don’t know.
The river rushes down a slope, through smooth boulders and over sculpted rock basins. The clear water turns into white-peaked rapids before the slope flattens out, feeding it into a wide mouth filled with flowering reeds. After the reeds, the waterway opens up into a turquoise lake surrounded by ancient pines. The water’s so clear I can see the perfectly preserved logs resting at the bottom.
Faint tendrils of mist rise from the lake. How is it warm in the middle of winter?
At the far edge of the lake, there’s a crescent-shaped beach of fine white sand. Beyond it rises a village of circular huts with walls of whitewashed clay and roofs made from cured animal hides.
Plumes of smoke drift lazily into the blue sky, emerging from central chimneys.
The village is bigger than I thought; it has to contain at least fifty huts. The walls of some are decorated with vibrant painted patterns composed of geometric shapes in shades of green, ochre, red, and black.
“That’s Niize,” Corvan says softly, the wind catching his words. “Home of the Khatur.”
“It’s so peaceful here, and incredibly beautiful. I can hardly believe my eyes. It’s chilling to think that you were at war with these people not too long ago.”
Corvan’s expression is distant and unreadable. With his eyes hidden behind the dark lenses, his face looks like a beautiful mask. For a strange moment, I almost feel he’s unreachable. “As I said, the war was a great folly. The Khatur are fierce defenders, and they will fight to the death to protect what is theirs, but they have a different philosophy when it comes to existence.”
“Oh? And what is that?”
“Balance.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t completely understand it either, but we aren’t at each other’s throats anymore. There’s no more killing, and that’s all I care about.”
“But there must still be bad blood. People say the war was the bloodiest and most terrible one ever fought on our lands. What stops your men and the Khatur from killing one another out of revenge?”
Corvan smiles, revealing his fangs. “Me.”
I give him a long, hard look. “That’s a great responsibility to carry.”
“Then perhaps you can understand why I’m still here in Tyron, doing my very best to do ordinary things; be an ordinary man.” He takes a deep breath. “The only problem is that your blood drives me absolutely mad.”
I can feel the intensity of his wanting. A wild part of me craves the feeling of his lips against my skin; the exquisite bright-and-sharp pain of his bite. “Then why didn’t you send me away?”
“I won’t lie. At first, I thought to do just that.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because when I tasted you again… the second time… I knew without a doubt that I could never let you go.” He takes a step forward and puts his hands on my waist.
I don’t resist. There isn’t a thing I can do to stop him, and neither do I want to.
A gentle breeze swirls around us, tugging at the ends of my hair.
Corvan simply leans in and kisses me on my lips; gently, sweetly, sending a pleasant ripple through me.
“Just as well we’re betrothed, then.”
“Just as well,” he murmurs. “Now, I must warn you. Khaturian customs are very different from ours, but as long as you’re with me, you have nothing to worry about. Just follow my lead, all right?”
“Fine.” Why does it feel like my blood is humming? Why is my heart beating so fast? It isn’t just Corvan’s presence—although he’s enough to drive any woman mad.
It’s the feeling that something profound is going to happen, and when it does, there’s no going back.
I’m so far away from home.
But really, I’ve never had a home. My father is cruel; my stepmother’s a stranger.
I have no home but here, in the arms of a man who I barely know; and yet right now, I feel closer to him than anyone else in this world.
Why does it feel so precarious?
“We need to know what you are,” he says, his deep voice wrapping around me, pulling me into a trance. “The answer lies in your blood. Why it’s so sweet to me; why you reacted so strongly to mine. Why you have abilities beyond our comprehension. Tell me, Finley. Don’t you ever wonder why your father never speaks of your mother?”