With the castle’s silhouette not far behind them, the stilted conversation left him with more questions than answers.
“With your return, Father will be glad,” Erich announced, and Leif gulped. “Maybe even those talks of uniting the kingdom with Kiev could again begin. Don’t worry, it is not my pressuring you, for the throne will welcome you.”
A marriage was simple, a ritual of society, whereby one must marry well. The battle for a suitable match meant the difference between comfort and a quick descent back to poverty. But it was more than that, also for that of the future.
And he wasn’t anywhere close to thinking about such an agreement, especially not with a stranger.
It should have been a simple transaction, where the kin planned out a secure future, where his place in society was set. But with Leif, it would be different. A royal marriage would require possibly more than a royal wished to give.
But, the throne would require his bride to be politically useful.
Political pawns, diplomacy, and matters of the heart could mean nothing.
“You as the heir must seek a suitable bride, even if this lowly bread woman has somehow tickled your fancy with her delights.”
Leif frowned. “Are you accusing Lady Abele of indecency? You jest?” She was his, and even though he loved Erich, he was not going to allow him to speak ill of his beloved.
“She does not behave like a woman who has not tasted the companionship of men.”
“Do you dishonor her?” Leif sputtered. He was ready for fisticuffs if he had to.
“Your judgment is not as keen. Are you one to take up for her honor? What is she to you? Before now, you’d done nothing to show interest in anyone. If I didn’t know you were my brother, I’d wonder what had gotten into you. You are the one who declared the throne to be more important than anything else. The alliance with the dragon does that, lest I remind you of what happened in Waverly. The land was overrun by the lupine horde.” Erich shook his head. “No, you should focus on the bride our king, your father, has arranged for you. A betrothed that will keep us safe. After all, isn’t that your duty?”
He’d made sure Tink wasn’t in any trouble, but now, a distance away, he’d again abandoned her to her fate.
“Come now. You needn’t bristle up over something like this. His lordship has probably chosen her to be the sacrifice from the daughters offered.”
“Sacrifice?”
“Yes, that is why we all gathered, for one to be chosen by him. She will unite us all.”
Danger, was that what he’d smelled while there, but not for himself, but for Tink? Pulling back the reins of his horse, he turned around and galloped back toward the castle.
He’d failed her the last time in not protecting her, and he damn well not blow the chance at making things right this go around.
“Guards, seize him.” He heard Erich order behind him and watched as his men gave chase. “Dear brother, must you play the fool? Your father has been poisoned and you race away. What about the duty to return to his bedside?”
With that casual reminder, Leif slowed his steed. If his father was ill, he was duty-bound to appear, and no matters of the heart could usurp such.
“It behooves me not to attempt anything. I’d simply lost my head. But dear brother, you are correct. We must return forthwith.”
“Now that is the spirit,” Erich cheered. “In a fortnight, all will again be settled.”
Leif bowed his head. He’d made a complete fool of himself. Even more, he should have been concerned as to his father’s wellbeing. After all, before his turning into a vampire, someone had poisoned the king. It was the biggest treason of all, and it had to be someone in the castle. Maybe that was why he'd been granted this chance, to save his father from death’s untimely hand. After all, Tink had already waited five hundred years for him to woo her, she could last another two weeks.
All he had was his honor. He was still a prince, just a vampiric one.
Chapter Twenty
Tink
Sneaking around the castle wasn’t as easy as it used to be. People lingered around, dogs constantly chased one another or barked at shadows, and it seemed that I was being watched.
As we sat down at the table for the evening meal, guests to his lordship, I couldn’t help noticing the extravagance and how my stomach lurched at it. It all smelled dead!
Not like cooked and prepared to be mouthwatering yummy, but just dead.
And in the shadows, Donovan’s footstool hid. The child practically cowered and steadily watched, eerily so.
The family lapped it up, while Philip pretended to know what he was talking about, Olivia was constantly batting her eyelashes at one knight or another who walked by, and then, of course, I bore the burden of his lordship’s heavy glare.
“It is so delightful to be here again, my lord,” my mother said. “I’m sure that my lovely daughter Emma will be a grand match, and you and she will live happily ever after. I propose a toast.” She raised her glass, and his lordship frowned.
“Let us not be too overeager for such an alliance, Miss, as one mustn’t determine the compatibility of a match based on the depth of one's pockets.” He still didn’t blink and leered at me. I pushed down the mucus in my throat, shaking away the discomfort at his stare.
I sat straight in my chair, but grimaced as I stared at the dead animal on my plate. It wasn’t that I was picky, usually, nor was I a vegetarian. Instead, it was the stench that wafted from the food. What should have smelled aromatic stunk like char with a side of decomposition. I clenched my jaw, while Philip leaned in and loudly inhaled the food’s aroma.
“This smells lovely,” he added as if noticing my lack of desire to shove my face full with whatever this was on my plate. I wasn’t squeamish. I could eat and make do with the most curious of local delicacies, except roadkill. But this stunk to high heaven.
I rubbed my nose, cleansing my airways with the scent of rosewater still on my fingers and stopped breathing in from my nose.
“Does our food not appeal to you, Lady Abele?” his lordship grumbled, and silence fell. I could feel the curious stares on my back, as my family looked at me in polite shock.
The truth could always be seen in Mama’s face, though. The way her eyes slightly blared, her pallor whitened to a creamy alabaster, but her neck grew increasingly rosy red.
I plucked up my fork and stabbed the indiscernible meat before me—meat covered in a brownish gravy.
Of course, as soon as that snide grin crossed Philip’s face, I knew he was about to embarrass me even more. “What is it, Sister?” he asked. “Don’t you enjoy mutton?”
I closed my eyes in hopes that it would stop me from laughing. How many fairy tales and myths had I read that talked about dragons snatching sheep from the local farmers?
I pried open my lips and shoved in a spoonful. It seemed to almost wiggle on my tongue. Maybe if I pushed it down, and swallowed it whole instead of chewing it, I could stop its assault. My eyes darted to my goblet, and I wondered if I’d saved enough wine to push it all down. Maybe the liquid would be strong enough to quell the rising queasiness.
“I have made my decision,” his lordship announced. “To repay your debt, your daughter shall remain here. She will be your pawn. Once you have repaid the levy, then your daughter shall be released into your care.”
A loud gasp sounded around the room, and all eyes went to my sister Emma, whose face was glowing in delight.
I shot to my feet without thought. “No, my lord, allow me to be the sacrifice. I will take her place.”
TINK
“The witches are to blame for the curses we now receive from on high. Even the old gods abandon us.” Father Cyril pushed back his seat at the table and wagged his finger at everyone. “I hear that in other parts where the new religion has been embraced that they don’t have the problems of witches and such evil.”
I’d thought that this timeline would prove better for Father Cyril, but sti
ll, he sought to preach his hate. It wouldn’t be until 1517 when Martin Luther nailed his Ninety-Five Theses to the Wittenberg Church door, sparking a religious schism. This area had held out against the rise of Catholicism, but Father Cyril would bring the news of the Protestant Reformation and seek religious change—and for him, it always had to do with burning witches.
The idea of sin and lack of sense.
With dinner over, I made an excuse or two and retreated to my chambers to bide my time. Poppy hid under my bed, purring about her pleasant dreams.
I couldn’t listen to Father Cyril anymore with his disregard and disrespect for the gods. It was as though he thought that his faith gave him the right to hurt others. He sought to terrorize more than proselytize.
Magic was forbidden.
Time was something that I couldn’t control, but it sure wasn’t bad to have tools that could help.
My supplies used to be hidden in the chapel, for that was the last place that the priest would think to check. But in this timeline, since the kingdom hadn’t embraced Christianity fully, and the old religions to the gods seemed to have also gone underground, it would require some creativity on my part. Thankfully, I still had the pearl from Lady Hel.
I waited until it was night, and only the flickering flames from the torches illuminated the castle, then made my way. I hurried toward the bailey. My belief continued, of the old way, I was Ásatrú, of the faith in the Norse gods, the Aesir. Juxtaposed to that of the shifting worldview, the wonder and mystery of the gods appealed to me; it stirred something inside of me that moved me forward to act, to be more than what my world had decided for me. And it was in the mind that things happened. Without it, maybe I would have still been comfortable in a tight whale-bone corset; I might not have been able to walk in my world or hope to change it.
It was more than about genetics, but about the sincere conversion. It was not that I found the gods, but that they had found me.
Moving through the underground tunnels that opened up far away from the gate, a full moon lit my way, and the clouds of before long gone. I hurried to the trees’ coverings, and toward the large oak that we’d once called Jove’s Oak.
Taking a cleansing breath, I headed North, nine steps, and in the clearing set to creating the sigil, using the pearl from Lady Hel.
The way of the gods was unknown for most, and their essence had transubstantiated through time and space, revealing themselves first through nature, magic, and in the future, through science. They were all around, a faith I’d never been able to shake, and that was okay, too.
Stilling my thoughts, I entered the holy circle. This was a sacred place, a place not to be defiled. I slipped out of my shoes, placed the satchel down, and removed my cloak revealing a thin, sheer shift underneath. It pooled at my feet. Goosebumps formed on my arms from the chill and stillness in the air.
The air then sizzled and snapped, and in the holy circle, a sigil formed and out stepped Lady Hel and her hellhound, Garmr.
Whenever she arrived, it usually meant she was ready to straighten something out that I’d fumbled up.
“Dearest,” she said, and a small smile formed on her face. I sighed in relief. I’d never been so happy to see the woman who’d become a second mother to me, even more so than Freyja. “Well, this was not where I expected to find you.”
“I would not have requested your presence if it wasn’t dire. It appears that Erich doesn’t yet know of his strength, who he is, and that means he also doesn’t know you.”
“You need not worry about Erich, as even if the dragon should not reveal himself, I will reveal myself to him. His power is not intertwined to that beast. She is a conduit, able to amplify his abilities. No, that is not why you are here. You are here because of your ongoing infatuation with this reprehensible vampire.”
I knew she hated Jaz, and I never thought to ask why. She could see that by not helping Erich, she was also not helping Jaz. But what was the end game?
“Why are you here?” Lady Hel asked.
“To save Leif.”
“Every time that man comes into your life, you forget everything else. No, what is different this time than before?”
I thought about it. “My family is alive.”
“The family that Philip exaggerated and said was in your head, and why you should have been placed in a convent for madness?”
I gulped and nodded. I didn’t like to think back to that time and place. Philip had suppressed all of those years, what it had meant to have a family, and to him, it was better if I’d made the whole thing up.
“Then, my dear, it would appear that you are here because you need to save that which you last lost. Not that of a man, as men will come and go, but your family—well, some things and people cannot be replaced.” She reached out her hand and cupped my face, wiping away a tear I didn’t know that I’d shed. “Remember, dear, your target, and that of finding the man to fill the space between your legs is not it.”
With that, Garmr came and nuzzled my hand, turned, and away he went like a cool breeze.
Now, I knew what I needed to do: to save my family. The biggest question was, how was I supposed to do that?
I steeled myself against the brunt of emotion. “How can I save those I love?”
“For your battle, I think you might need this.” Hel raised her hand and passed me a wand. It was onyx and cool to the touch. “You can’t fight if you don’t have the right tools, and I fear that the runes I gifted you will only see you partially through this journey.”
She cared like I always knew she did.
“The Dragon will do anything to manipulate you.” I wasn’t sure if she was referring to Donovan or Jaz, but to be honest, it wouldn't matter. Everything I loved was at stake. And now I had to choose: Leif or my family, and the Dragon; I held their fates in my ill-equipped hands.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tink
The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. I stretched out my hand readying the magic, calling it forth. I didn’t like surprises.
He stood in camouflage among the line of trees, and I could practically feel the disdain dripping from his gaze. I turned to see Donovan. His midnight-black hair was swept back as if he’d been running his fingers through the strands, and instead of his usual put together look, he stood there in trousers, a thin unbuttoned doublet and barefooted. I frowned. It was as though he rushed to be out here, and I had no idea why.
“My lord,” I said and curtsied. It was the best I could do, to then put my hand behind my back extinguishing the fireball I’d been generating.
“It is unsafe for you to be out here alone,” he said and moved forward from the line of trees. For the smallest of moments, I considered that he was more of a wolf than a dragon, and he assumed I was like Little Red Riding Hood, an adult version of course. He’d want to play games, and I was excellent at mind fucks.
Of course, this called up the memory of my and Shem’s type of fun. Living for five hundred years, I’d learned a thing or two about men. They were jerks, unequivocally selfish pricks. I’d met a few genuine souls, but of course, if you didn’t age, then life’s usual routine had changed. No one understood when someone looked the same after thirty years. People aged, ordinary people did at least. But when you were immortal, the only thing you had was time.
Leif was significant to me. He knew me when I was mortal, and I felt somewhat responsible for him. But he’d also had just as long to make something happen. I might have lived for several lifetimes, but I could still be foolish, too, like now.
Men!
I might be attracted to the dragon, but that didn’t erase that I was in love with that damn vampire. I sighed. But did I love him out of guilt or because of heart? I’d turned him into a monster, but did that mean that fate had weaved us to be together forever? Was this guilt what made him forever the foremost in thought?
Most men thought that a woman should be happy to look at their little friend as if a dick pic wa
s the freaking Mona Lisa. No, they prattled on about their length and girth, for fifteen minutes of their pleasure.
But the man that was a true lover loved more than just himself and appreciated more than only his erection. The female wasn’t a means to his orgasm, but instead a partner that they journeyed together on this road of pleasure.
He needed not then seek his crowning “O” and roll away, leaving her unsated, and she didn’t then need to find tools for her satisfaction. Instead, it was tit for tat.
The first one hundred years I let mediocrity be the standard. That was what I’ been taught, that I, too, should be like a dead fish being rutted. Who knew it took learning a thing or two about myself to see that I deserved so much more.
Immortality taught me to seek my pleasure when I could, and my womanhood, my personhood, informed me that no one would love me as much as I needed to love myself. How could a woman like me be expected to be embraced in this ass-backward world, where I should have no voice?
Thank the gods for Lady Hel’s guiding hand over the last one hundred years. She’d ingrained in me that I had agency, agency to do as I please, to screw who I wish. Yep, time taught me that, the gods and their orders be damned.
“I’m not one of these demurring quiet dolls, my lord. I still have teeth.” I reached down and pulled on my cloak, stuffing my feet back into those insufferable and uncomfortable shoes, and broke his gaze.
A slow smile spread over his unusually handsome face. He was still a prick, but under the moon’s glow, he might not be that bad.
“I say that only because of the wolves. My men have reported a few sightings nearby. It would not behoove this community to lose one as fair as you, my lady.”
He was a smooth talker, and I was sure his words made all the women here weep for his attention, but that was not what I signed up for. I knew my goal now, to save my family. And I couldn’t let myself get distracted by this yummy man throwing off pheromones.
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