Chapter 10

Chapter

Ten

Eleanna

I mount my steed, the beast's muscles coiling under the pressure of my thighs. Anticipation courses through me as raw and fierce as the winter wind that howls across the barren landscape. Alexandru is at my side, his presence a living flame in the encroaching chill of our final quest—the Land of Whispers awaits.

"Once we secure the banshee's whisper," he says, a rumble of thunder against the brittle quiet, "The Darkened Pulse will be nothing but ash."

"Within a mirror of pure silver," I add, unable to resist the pull of his gaze. "Legends speak of its power, locked away in some forlorn cave."

Our path unfurls like a ribbon of fate beneath us, each hoofbeat a solemn drum roll toward destiny. The banshee's lament will be ours; I can feel it in the marrow of my bones.

I quiver, nipples hardening from the heat of Alexandru's eyes as they sweep over me. His silver stare, so often cool and distant, now burns with an intensity that threatens to ignite the air between us. His armor clings to him like a second skin, outlining the sinewy strength of a warrior shaped by centuries. His black hair falls around his shoulders, framing his sculpted face—a visage honed from darkness and survival.

I force myself to look away, to focus on the frozen trail ahead. Yet, the memory of his touch, the scent of his skin, lingers like a ghost on my senses. Even now, every line of his form beckons, whispers of silk against steel filling my thoughts.

Every now and then I catch myself smiling, the feel of it almost foreign. I'm free-falling, and our sex—love making, I don't know what to call it—was something I've never had. Like we transcended. Or else maybe I just needed it. I don't know.

What I need is to step back. Maybe fight on. Or when this is over, fill myself with him, slake the thirst he's set off and then turn my back let him have his empty place in my courtroom because I could make it work. I… I don't know if I want to make it work like that. There's a lot to be said of the free-fall, the washing up with the side of our emotions and the sensations that flow. Maybe I want that version of working things to my liking. Just a coming together and seeing.

I try and loosen my corset a little, pulling at it, like it's cutting off my air.

There's a mission and I must focus on that.

There's a mission and thinking about him and the future in that way constrain and choke.

My wandering thoughts offer no reprieve.

I pull my cloak around me, a flag of war and want. My attire, the finest that should allow me to move and fight, mold to me. And I let the hunger I need well up. The hunger for power, for vengeance...and perhaps for him.

We ride in silence, the air crackling between us, more potent than any spoken word. Each glance carries weight, every breath shared pulls taut the thread of tension strung between our souls.

And as the Land of Whispers looms closer with the promise of what awaits—a banshee's cry, a mirror's secret—I cannot untangle my desire for victory from the web of longing Alexandru weaves around my heart.

Something snaps.

"Alexandru, you realize that our dalliance may be our undoing." My voice wobbles slightly over the steady rhythm of hoofbeats.

He turns to me, his silver eyes flaring with a fire that doesn't warm. "And what would you have us do, Eleanna? Deny what we are?" There's a fierceness in his tone, echoing the battle-hardened general he is.

"Focus," I say sharply. "We must focus on Catarina, on reclaiming what is ours. Our... encounters are clouding our judgment."

"Yours perhaps. Without the respite I find in your arms, I've no interest in this quest," Alexandru says. "If you wish to end what's between us, then consider my aid withdrawn."

Anger surges within me, hot and unwelcome. His words are unfair and they mock what happened between us. My words were meant to probe, perhaps share my worry of my own distractions. But the rope he pulls on, one of manipulation is ugly and brutal.

But as queen, I've learned the art of concealing fury beneath a veneer of calm. I tighten my grip on the reins and nod once, curt and decisive. "Noted. Then we continue as we have." I stop short of adding... for now .

As we approach, the Land of Whispers is unveiled—a realm draped in silence and secrets. The cave mouth yawns before us, an abyss eager to swallow the light. The chill from its depths is a snake's caress along my skin. But I am Eleanna Cordon, Queen of the Sagori vampire family, Mistress of Ravens. I will not cower before the dark.

"Here we are," Alexandru mutters, dismounting.

With an assessing gaze, he scans the cave and the darkness within that beckons.

I dismount my steed, the snow crunching underfoot as I stand beside my general, my lover. The cave breathes arctic murmurs, promising both doom and discovery.

"Are you prepared, my fallen Queen?" His hand rests upon the hilt of his sword—a pledge of protection.

"One can only hope. And by the gods, stop calling me that!"

He chuckles and ignores me.

Our measured steps draw us closer to the cave, to the place where power and peril stroll hand in hand. This is the crucible that will forge our fate or shatter it entirely. And as the banshee's presence lingers just on the edge of perception, my heart races—not with fear, but with the thrill of the hunt, the sweet anticipation of triumph.

Yet, I temper that. Triumph beckons me to rush in, but that's the trap. The fear of a banshee is something real, and it thrums hard in my veins. The banshee's true wail will cause bleeding from the ears and deafness, even deaf if we don't proceed with the utmost caution.

"Stay close," Alexandru commands in a low murmur. "The banshee's cry doesn't discriminate between ally and adversary."

I nod, finding his eyes for an instant, and his steady gaze calms the scrabble of panic that's taken root. The calmness spreads and I nod again. "I'm ready."

With torches held high, we step into the inky depths of the cavern. The air tastes of ancient earth and sorrow. Our flames flutter against the jagged walls. The banshee's lamentation carves through the cold, a haunting melody that wraps around my spine. It's a sound of mourning, of rage trapped within stone.

And I understand her wail because it matches my own. All my mistakes, the mess of my relationship with my realm, Alexandru. My abject cruelty. Everything comes at me, crushing down until I can barely breathe.

"Eleanna?"

"Her grief is fathomable," I whisper, the echo of my voice alien to me in this place.

"Focus, Eleanna. The mirror must be here."

Alexandru's hand brushes against mine, a fleeting contact that warms my body. It's all it takes to ground me, at least enough to focus on the task, to pull myself from the well of despair opening in me, most of which is the work of her song of grief and loss and all the dark, lonely things left behind.

We search, moving deeper into the twisty passages, guided by the laments that weave a tapestry of torment. Somewhere in this cave lies the key to our victory, the banshee's whisper sealed in silver.

The chamber Alexandru and I stumble upon is a trove of the mysterious and the mystical. Everywhere, the glint of our torchlight catches on myriad surfaces—crystals that hum with latent energy, dusty tomes whose spines whisper tales of forgotten lore, and strands of herbs that dangle from the ceiling, their scents mingling to create a potent aroma that permeates the air.

On one side, a collection of bones, arranged with unsettling precision, tell a story of life and death, a reminder of the banshee's connection to the ethereal realm. Closer to the chamber's heart lies a table with a series of small, hand-carved figurines standing guard around a delicate silver mirror, its surface clouded as if veiling secrets from the uninitiated.

"Here!" I graze my fingers over the object at the center of the table within the shadowed alcove, the unmistakable chill of pure silver painful on my flesh. Ornate and ancient, the mirror reflects nothing, not even our images.

"Quickly," Alexandru whispers, "before she realizes what we're taking."

I wrap the mirror carefully and slip it into my pouch.

As if the banshee senses her whisper trinket being stolen, a scream pierces the air, a sound so harrowing my vision blurs.

"Eleanna!" Alexandru shields me with his body and places his hands over my ears, his presence a stronghold against the supernatural wails.

"Let's go now." My voice is steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

We turn back the way we came and hastily retreat.

The banshee's cries fade as we emerge from the depths, back into the realm of the living. The cave mouth releases us like a final breath. The bleak winter landscape greets us with its frigid embrace, the moonlight splaying over snow-dusted earth like a celestial blessing.

"Are you unharmed?" Alexandru searches my gaze, but I barely register the question.

I focus on the bloody trails seeping from his ears, an alarming contrast to the pallor of his skin. The banshee's wail has left its mark, the cost of our intrusion into her domain etched in the lines of pain on his face.

Instinctively, I reach out, fingertips lightly brushing against the side of his head, tracing the path of his discomfort with tender caution. His flinch is slight, but it speaks volumes, confirming the agony he tries to mask under the guise of concern for me.

"Let me see," I whisper, fighting back the tremor from the turmoil twisting inside me.

The sight of him in pain, weak yet standing strong before me, stirs a fierce protectiveness I've seldom felt. With gentle persuasion, I guide him to sit, our torch hurling light across his features, highlighting the grit of his endurance.

I tear a piece of my cloak and carefully dab at the blood, the fabric coming away stained. "This will pass," I murmur.

Each touch is infused with my apology for the pain he endures, for the journey that has brought us to this moment of shared vulnerability.

Alexandru meets my gaze, a tender moment passing between us. Our roles are momentarily reversed, and there's strength in the act of caring for him, a kindness I rarely show woven through each gesture. The pain he suffers makes my heart clench and ache.

"I'm untouched because you have protected me," I say.

I find solace in our camaraderie—and something more, something I dare not name.

"Good. And thank you, Eleanna." He allows himself a brief smile before his expression hardens once again.

Vulnerability has never been a suit of armor I was willing to don, as it never served a purpose in my role as queen. But beneath the bravado, I wonder if my greatest battle is with the armor around my own heart and not with Catarina.

"Sometimes, Eleanna..." He pauses, his silver eyes reflecting the vastness of the night sky. "It takes more strength to reveal one's heart than to shield it."

"Perhaps."

I turn my gaze to the white expanse before us, the land untouched and serene. In contrast, a fire burns within my chest, fueled by lusty thoughts of the man beside me. His presence is both a balm and a blade, slicing through my defenses. But it's preferable to the tenderness, and it's something I know, something I can handle.

"Come." I break the moment and stand, unwilling to drown in the depth of his gaze. "We have a mirror to wield and a throne to reclaim."

"Lead the way, my beloved." His voice is husky and gruff, trailing behind me as we set forth into the heart of winter under a sky brushed with starlight. Then he suddenly grabs my arm. "Wait. Look upward." He points to the sky.

I follow Alexandru's outstretched finger, and my breath catches. A star plummets, trailing fire across the obsidian canvas. For a fleeting second, hope flares within me—a symbol of transformation in this cold, unyielding world.

"Make a wish, Eleanna," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with an emotion I can't quite place.

"Superstitions?" I ask, hiding the stirrings of something akin to wonder. "Wishes are for fools who fear to take what they desire."

"Even fools know what their heart longs for," he says. His gaze locks onto mine. "I've never stopped loving you, but I can't condone your thirst for bloodletting. It's not the path to true power."

"Love?" I sneer the word though my insides twist at his admission. "You think love conquers all, General? My reign will be built on strength, not the fickle whims of the heart."

"Strength without mercy is tyranny, Eleanna." He stands resolute, a man of war preaching peace.

"Mercy is for the weak." My words are ice, yet the cold doesn't touch him.

"Then let us hope you never find yourself at its mercy." With that, he turns away, leading our horses through the crystalline snow.

We ride in silence until the fortress looms before us, ancient stone rising against the night. Within its walls lies the promise of warmth—and an invitation I'm both drawn to and wary of.

"Eleanna," he says as we dismount, his hand lingering on mine. "Will you share my bed tonight?"

The hesitation is a splinter under my skin. I am queen, conqueror, yet here, I falter. "Yes," I concede, not to him but to the hunger he awakens within me.

Perhaps it makes me a fool, to want him after what he said. But I want to see what he'll do this time, and I hunger for it all.

His chamber is a shadowed sanctuary, the firelight tantalizingly frolicking over the furs strewn across the floor. In the flickering glow, he looks every inch the warrior god—powerful, magnetic.

"Come here," he commands, and it's the steel in his voice that coaxes me closer, not the plea of a lover. "There are so many lessons I want teach about the art of strength in submission, in being mine, but not tonight."

I reach for him and start to strip him, as he does the same. We work in fevered moves, leather and silk hitting the ground. The hearth's heat has nothing on the fire between us, nothing on the sear of his touch.

Alexandru takes my mouth in a demanding kiss. It's frustration and unfettered need, it's carnal and wild and nothing soft about it. This is the kiss I desperately crave.

I don't want gentle. I want this. A hard edge, a hint of blood and violence and sacrifices to the god of lust. I need to claim and be claimed.

"Alexandru," I breathe, the word a blade cutting through the last of my defenses.

"Mine," he growls against my flesh, a possessive declaration that sears through me.

Beneath him, I'm made of moonlight and shadows, a creature of sensuality and power. He worships at the altar of my body, and I revel in the devotion. Every touch is a brand, every caress a battle for dominance, one I willingly surrender to—for the moment.

The fortress around us could crumble, the world outside could shatter into oblivion, but here and now, nothing else exists except the raw intensity between us.

"Eleanna," he gasps.

"Alexandru," I echo back, and his name a sacrament.

Our bodies slam into each other like two waves colliding in the ocean, each move violent yet perfect in its connection. I grip his muscular arms as our tongues mingle, our moans blending into one single voice that echoes through the room.

We tumble to the bed. This isn't a time for foreplay or exploration. It's a frenzy of need and all the near misses and harrowing ordeals fuel it all. It's a time to celebrate lust and life and he rolls me as I dig my fingers into his back.

Alexandru gazes down as he drives his cock into me, the savageness of the invasion, the sudden stretch breath stealing. It's what I need and pleasure scrapes through me as I bite his throat, hands sliding down to his ass to urge him on.

He obliges, hard, rough thrusts and I wrap my thighs about him.

I'm on the verge, and he grabs my legs, unwrapping them and hooking them on his shoulders. Oh, fuck is he going deep now, angling himself for his own pleasure and mine. I come hard but he keeps thrusting, his pubic bone rubbing my clit, driving that orgasm higher, deeper and I'm suddenly somewhere else that is vibrating and ringing through me.

His rough voice breaks the silence, "Fuck, Eleanna, you are so fucking beautiful."

He doesn't kiss me, his face so close, as we drink in each other, it's more than looking, more intimate than a kiss because I can see the intention, the intensity, and the violent need for me on his face. His world is me.

I don't know what I look like but as another orgasm starts, this one so deep it starts to take over everything, I suspect I have the same expression.

"Come again," he says.

I do. It's world shattering, and my entire body convulses, putting other orgasms to shame. He follows, his cock head twitching in me as he unloads, the heat of his seed setting off another, smaller orgasm.

When we're done it's a slow float down, as he lets my legs down and takes my mouth. The kiss is deep and gentle, the seductive aftermath of our fucking. And then he pulls out and turns us so I'm on top, his heart a skittering, deep beat I could listen to forever.

I bask in the afterglow of our lovemaking, as we lie in a tangled mess of limbs and sweat.

I gaze into Alexandru's mesmerizing silver eyes. The crackling fireplace bathes our skin in a warm, sensual glow. We stay quiet for a time, then I glance at the general.

"Tell me, Alexandru," I whisper, tracing a finger along his chiseled jaw, "what was your happiest memory as a child, before...before all this?"

A wistful smile plays on his lips. "I remember running through golden wheat fields with my friends, the sun on our faces, laughter in the air. We were so carefree, so innocent then."

His words create a vivid picture in my mind. I can almost feel the breeze, smell the ripe wheat. "It sounds beautiful," I murmur. "I wish I had memories like that to hold onto."

Alexandru brushes a lock of hair from my face, his touch gentle. "We can't change our pasts, Eleanna. But we can cherish the precious moments we share now. Every second I spend with you is a gift."

Emotion swells in my chest. "Despite everything, I do care, but I must stay strong for my family. Romantic entanglements can't sway my purpose."

"Can't, or don't want to." His lips find mine in a deep, soulful kiss.

I pour every ounce of my lust and desire into that kiss, savoring the exquisite slide of our tongues. When we finally part, I rest my forehead against his.

He tightens his arms around me. "Promise me, Eleanna. Swear that no matter what happens, no matter what obstacles we face...we'll always find our way back to each other. In this life and the next. Forever bound, forever yours."

I don't respond, just stroke his cock and roughly kiss him into silence.