For all the forces and weaponry and resources he has at his disposal, he chooses to go alone. To risk his own safety.
Nobody is faster.
Nobody can do what he does.
And Corvan cares deeply about this land and its people.
About me.
That’s what it comes down to.
Despite all he’s endured, he wants to protect us.
“Finley…” he gasps, his voice turning hoarse with desire. “Are you sure you want to—”
“Take it,” I whisper, suddenly overcome with the urge to be devoured by him. My body aches with need. I curl my fingers around his neck and pull him towards me. “I insist. It’s obvious that you want to. And you need to.”
“Fine.” All of a sudden, his voice is strained. He plants soft kisses along my jawline and down my neck, until he reaches the base of it, where my pulse beats wildly. He kisses me there too, lingering there in an exquisite moment of tenderness and wanting before he gently pierces my skin.
There’s that familiar sting of pain again, accompanied by warmth and the firm, commanding press of his lips against my bare skin.
My body reacts before my thoughts arrive. Arousal surges through me; so acute I can barely contain it. In the end, it’s the tough layer of Corvan’s leather armor that stops me.
If not for that barrier, I would have jumped his bones already.
His thirst; his need for me…
What a blessing it is, to be wanted like this.
At last, he breaks away, satiated, breathing heavily, his lips stained crimson, his pupils dilated. “I could devour you right now,” he whispers.
“Don’t. As tempted as I am, save it for when you get back. I feel you’ll be a lot more vengeful toward your enemies when you’re like this. I shall be your reward.”
“Then I’ll definitely come back as soon as I can,” he growls, tasting my lips again, leaving me with a hint of my own coppery sweetness. My mouth tingles with magic. “And I’ll bring your mother to you. How could I fail when the only thing I’ll be thinking of is you, waiting here for me? Gods, I would raze their castle to the ground if it meant I could come back to you.”
And that’s how we parted; in longing and hope, and I let Corvan go, because I know that he’ll be a hundred times more dangerous and when he’s on his own, for he won’t have to worry about unmasking that side of himself.
Not that I’m bothered by it.
I love all of him; even the side of him that’s savage and ruthless.
57
CORVAN
In an instant, I’m away from the Imperial Palace.
Away from my father’s mess and the honorable Elite Guard—who now serve me.
Immediately, my heart clenches in protest, because I don’t want to be away from her.
It’s astonishing. Me, who’s practically been living as a recluse for the past three years or so? Who turned away all the eligible ladies of the court, because I found most of them vapid and self-serving; because I could not stomach the thought of being wedded to someone that would see only my titles and my inheritance?
I’ve fallen in love with a baron’s daughter who hasn’t had a single thing to do with the Rahavan Court.
And how right she is for me. She’s fearless and grounded. Humble. Not pretentious or putting on airs.
She’s fierce and clever, and there isn’t a single malicious bone in her body.
If anything happened to her, I would be destroyed. If not for the lingering memory of her touch; the steady whisper of her voice, the unwavering faith she has in me, I would be irrational right now. I was barely able to leave her as it were.
But it’s necessary. It’s for the best. I can’t possibly take her into unfamiliar territory with the threat of necromancy hanging over us. And Tyron Castle has turned into a warzone, overrun by an army of undead.
The Imperial Palace is the safest place for her right now. Outside the two of us, the Elite Guard, and a single embalmer, not a single soul knows of my father’s demise.
In the next day or so, nothing’s going to change.
Besides, I have a certain amount of faith in Eulisyn’s magic. It’s saved Finley’s life once before. That infernal tree knew what it was doing when it gave her its heart-seed.
I find it reassuring that she’s got such powerful magic in her, even if we don’t yet know much about it.
I need to end this quickly. I have no way of knowing what’s happening in Tyron right now. The longer the undead roam my lands, the more dangerous the situation becomes.
I can’t allow the people of Tyron to face that sort of danger.
If I can destroy the necromancer in one fell swoop, the threat will be gone.
For the first time in my life, I’m truly grateful for the powers that have been bestowed upon me by my mother’s rare vampiric blood. For the first time, I’m not left wondering. Perhaps that was her parting gift to me—the gift of knowing.
The cool afternoon breeze whips my hair as I soar through the skies, high above the red-tiled rooftops of the outskirts of Lukiria. My body feels light, thanks to Finley’s intoxicating blood. The warmth of the setting sun touches my face without burning me. The broadsword sheathed at my waist feels light as a feather, and my armor hardly weighs me down.
I feel invincible.
Dangerously so. Caution. I can’t afford to become overconfident and complacent.
I drop through the clouds; through the deepening darkness, as evening descends upon the capital. The short winter day has passed, and night is settling upon the land once again.
I land on the parapet of an outer wall, just for a heartbeat. With a single leap I’m in the air again, my legs generating immense force; enough to propel me for several leagues.
I soar over the outskirts of the capital; blocks upon blocks of small, haphazardly constructed dwellings. Rickety lean-tos made of salvaged timber and thatch. Clay brick houses with small bent chimneys exuding lazy plumes of woodsmoke, fires burning as the residents prepare for the onset of the bitterly cold night.
This place has grown since I was here last. There must be thousands living here; entire families squeezed into dwellings less than the size of my own chambers.
The narrow streets are made of packed Earth. Refuse lines the gutters. I catch a tendril of scent; of bodies and cooking and woodsmoke and waste.
For all the empire’s riches, people still live like this. My father’s always had a habit of turning a blind eye to them.
But I won’t.
I leave the outskirts of the city behind, travelling over a scattering of farms and industrial areas. There’s the forest, up ahead. I descend. Land. Leap. Again and again, gathering momentum, moving faster than I ever thought I could.
I follow the map that’s etched into my mind. Over forests and rivers and rock formations. Across roads and well-trodden paths. I pass villages and hamlets, their windows suffused with the warm glow of lamplight.
Warding against the darkness; against the things that cause terror in the night.
Like me.
The air changes, becoming warmer, infused with a hint of humidity. The gleaming Ophirion river system stretches out before me, burnished golden by the glow of the setting sun.
The forests change, leaves appearing on the trees; there are more evergreens here. The fragrance of early spring fills my nostrils.
The scent reminds me of my betrothed.