Chapter 7

Chapter

Seven

Eleanna

T he cold bites through my attire as I urge my steed through the gates, darkness enveloping Nadia and me like a cloak. Hooves crunch on the frost-hardened ground as we thread through skeletal trees, their branches clawing at a starless sky.

Nadia rides beside me, her silhouette rigid against the moonlight. Her presence is an assurance of loyalty in this clandestine quest.

I can't forget Alexandru's words yesterday; they haunt my every waking moment.

Dante might have provided a way through, and his bravery is to be commended. Catarina's seemingly unstoppable army, one that murdered Henry, one of the brave, an old and powerful vampire, an army that's laid waste to so much and stripped the offers of help as other realms fight and fall, has dark magic on its side.

And with that, he exposed her one, lone weakness.

The talisman that gives her strength and protects her from all manner of death, that allows her to destroy is also the dark heart Catarina clings to for her life force.

The one thing that makes her almost unstoppable makes her vulnerable. It's a chink in her armor, the only leverage we have against her invincibility. If I can find it. If I can find the way to then destroy it. Which I will. There's no other option.

I don't allow defeat.

I'll stop her, make her pay and restore the land. And then…then I won't need Alexandru by my side. And if I destroy her talisman along with her, I'll save him. Because while I won't bow to him the way he wants, I can't imagine the world without him. And I think he would die in my name.

There's been enough of that.

So I'm going to stop her. The thought coils inside me, tightening around my chest like a vise.

The rhythmic hoofbeats of our horses are the only sound that accompanies us through the forest, save for the occasional call of a night bird. The moon, barely a sliver, casts its eerie glow on the path ahead, guiding Nadia and me toward the village where the witch lives. Rumors say she holds secrets no ordinary being should know, especially about the talisman that shields Catarina.

I'll take anything I can get.

"Nadia," I say, breaking the silence, "if this witch knows about the talisman protecting Catarina, or even the type, we need to find out how to destroy it."

"Indeed, my Queen. But we must approach this with caution. A talisman wrapped in mystery and dark magic isn't easily tampered with. Who knows what safeguards Catarina has placed around it?"

Her words are a cold splash of reality. I've known Nadia to be not just a maidservant but a confidant. She never speaks up unless she has something to say, and her insight is invaluable, especially now. The thought of confronting such dark magic sends a shiver through me, not of fear but anticipation. To break Catarina's protection would be to expose her vulnerability, to tilt the scales in our favor at last.

"How do you suppose we deal with the witch? Do you think she'll be amenable to helping us, or will we need to persuade her in... other ways?" I say, already running through possible scenarios in my mind. "Not threats. Gold? Something else? I won't be able to pay her until all is restored."

Nadia's response is thoughtful, measured. "Threats never work with witches. And the witch will want something in return, my Queen. They always do."

"Until we win, I'm in exile, so I can't pay."

"Yet. But we should be prepared to offer her a trade, something valuable enough to coax the information from her."

Her advice is sound, a reminder of the delicate balance of negotiation and power plays that comes with dealing with witches.

We ride on, and as the village draws ever closer, and the weight of my quest pushes down on my shoulders and gut. It's not just about reclaiming power or asserting dominance—it's about securing a future for my people, free from the threat of Catarina's reign. And if this witch holds the key to unraveling Catarina's protection, then I'm prepared to pay any price.

We finally enter the small and quiet village. Humble homes made of stone and wood nestle in among the trees. The moon casts a pale light over the scene as we approach, highlighting the murky outlines of the houses and trees, giving the village an ethereal quality.

The village slumbers under the cover of winter, its buildings simple and quaint. Smoke drifts lazily from chimneys in the cold night ai. In the distance, a lone dog barks twice, its voice echoing through the streets.

Humans and other supernatural creatures here live simple lives, untouched by the crusades of blood and power that rage beyond their doors. Catarina's army hasn't reached its doors.

"We're here," I whisper to Nadia, nodding toward a cottage nestled on the outskirts on the other side of the village, its windows glowing faintly with candlelight.

We dismount from our horses, quiet so as not to disturb the peaceful village. The horses are tied to a gnarled tree, their hooves softly scraping against the earth. The witch's cottage is surrounded by ivy that seems to be creeping up the walls and reaching for the door. The cottage itself is made of aged wood; its surface etched with mysterious symbols.

The power flows off it.

"Are you ready?" I ask Nadia, my voice barely a breath.

"Yes, my Queen."

We approach the door, the silence of the night enveloping us. I rap sharply on the wooden surface, three deliberate knocks that resonate with the gravity of our mission.

The door swings open, and Valeria, the witch, is framed by the warm glow of her hearth. Her violet eyes are sharp, piercing through the darkness like twin amethysts. Her long auburn hair flows over her shoulders, spilling around her dark cloak. Her deep indigo dress, woven with intricate patterns of silver thread hint at her mystical adeptness. The symbols adorning her attire seem to glow in the firelight, alive with an ancient power.

"Hello, Valeria," I say. "We seek your help with a most urgent matter."

"Then do come in, your grace," Valeria's voice is a melody, laced with unease.

I step inside, Nadia close behind me. The cottage's interior is a tapestry of shadow and light, the shelves teeming with jars of herbs, books, and peculiar objects that defy immediate understanding. A cauldron bubbles quietly in the corner, while various charms hang from the ceiling, each twisting slowly as if moved by an unseen force.

"State your business, vampires." Valeria's tone slices through the tranquility like a dagger. It's not a question—it's a demand.

Nadia clears her throat. "We seek knowledge about a talisman—a heart, bound by dark magic."

"Ah, yes, The Darkened Pulse. I know of it. And I know you, Eleanna Cordon." Valeria's gaze locks onto mine, unyielding. "Vampiress. Disgraced future queen of the vampire realm."

Her words should sting, but they slide off me like water off a raven's back. My name, my title—they are weapons I wield with superiority, even when turned against me. I stand tall, my eyes fastened with hers, my resolve as unbreakable as the frost outside.

I fold my arms over my chest. "Will you help us, Valeria? We need to understand the talisman to destroy it."

"Destroy it?" Valeria's eyebrow arches.

But her interest has been piqued, and I can see it in the subtle shift of her stance, the way her eyes narrow ever so slightly.

"Yes, witch," Nadia says.

The witch's lips quirk upward into an ugly smirk.

"Help you?" Valeria's voice drips with disdain. "Vampires are creatures of night and mayhem. You've brought nothing but darkness to this world."

The accusation rakes like a claw across my chest, but I don't flinch. I tighten my grip on my arms. In the silence that stretches between us, I hear the crackle of the fire, the low hum of magic in the air.

"Your distrust is noted," I say, my words clipped. "But our need is greater than your prejudice."

"Need or greed?" Valeria asks, her violet eyes piercing. "Why would I aid in your quest for power?"

"Because it's not just about power." Nadia steps forward, a mediator as always, her brown eyes earnest. "It's about balance. Without destroying the talisman, there will be more misery and despair."

Valeria flicks her gaze between us, weighing, judging. Her home, a sanctuary of sorcery, seems to hold its breath.

"Chaos reigns regardless," she finally says, turning from us as if dismissing the gravity of our plea.

From the folds of her dress, Nadia produces a coin purse, its contents clinking promisingly. She extends it toward Valeria. "Perhaps this can sway your thoughts?"

The witch's eyes glint at the sight of the gold. "Hmmm, not reason enough to get involved in vampire affairs."

I sigh. "It is, witch. Because we both know Catarina's reign must end. And because I'm willing to pay generously for your services when this is done."

A moment passes before the witch reaches out, her slender fingers brushing against Nadia's as she takes the offering.

Nadia grins. "Gold speaks louder than words, it seems."

Valeria's smirk blooms into a smile, though it never reaches her eyes. "Very well," she says. "Let's see what we can do about this heart, The Darkened Pulse."

"Then let's speak further, by the warmth of your hearth," I say, moving deeper into the room.

We find seats on rough-hewn chairs by the fire. The flames cast flitting shadows on the walls, their light flickering across Valeria's features, softening them momentarily.

"Tea?" Valeria asks, her movements fluid as she retrieves a kettle.

"Thank you." Nadia accepts a steaming cup with both hands.

I take mine, and the warmth seeps through the porcelain, fighting the chill that's settled in my bones.

Valeria goes to a tall bookcase, her hand pausing over the spines of ancient tomes before selecting one bound in flesh.

A shiver, unbidden, travels down my spine as she opens it, revealing pages yellowed with age.

I can't help but lean closer, drawn to the forbidden knowledge within. The tome exudes a perception of ancient, forbidden knowledge.

"Tell us about this talisman," Nadia asks, her voice a gentle nudge in the heavy quiet of the room.

Valeria traces the worn pages as she speaks. "The Darkened Pulse is no trinket. Bound by an eldritch covenant, it shields its keeper from mortal harm. Its magic weaves through their veins like poison, and becomes both armor and curse."

"Poetic," I say, "but how does one unmake such a thing?" I pause, clamping down on the urgency clawing at my insides. "There must be a way."

She slides a finger down the page.

"Destroying the heart's no easy thing." Valeria's gaze locks on the archaic script before her. "It's akin to catching pixies—intangible, elusive. It requires more than brute force or simple spells."

"I don't use a sledgehammer when finesse is needed and unless I'm wasting my time, you're not a witch who deals in simple potion and love spells."

Her eyes flicker over me, then back to the page. "Needs must."

"My needs are the needs of the realm," I say. "Don't play games."

"Please, what does it require?" Nadia leans forward, her brow furrowed.

Valeria breathes out a laugh. "To sever the heart's dark bond, one must endure the quest and tap into your very life force through primeval rituals."

"Enough riddles," I snap, my patience fraying. "Speak plainly, witch."

The corners of Valeria's mouth twitch with mirth. "There is no plain speech for such complexity. To undo the heart's magic requires power that mirrors its depth—a darkness to swallow the light."

I clench my hands into fists beneath the table, knuckles blanching. "Are you saying it's impossible, though, witch?"

"Nothing is truly impossible," Valeria says, closing the tome with a soft thud. Her violet eyes met mine, a flash of something unreadable within their depths. "But there is one forgotten ritual—one of great peril—that could amplify your vampiric strength enough to shatter the talisman."

"And what would this ritual cost me?" My voice is steady, though a cold dread coils around my gut.

Valeria shrugs. "Risks abound where ancient magics tread, Vampire Queen. This particular incantation taps into forces untamed, unpredictable. These preternatural magics are hard to extinguish."

"Is there no other way?" Nadia says, her concern wobbling her voice.

Valeria's gaze doesn't waver from mine. "If there were, would I not have offered it?"

"Tell me of this ritual," I demand, every fiber of my being taut like a drawn bowstring.

"Very well." Valeria moves across the room with purpose. She retrieves several small vials containing powders and liquids of various hues. "But you will not like what you must do, and the ingredients you must gather are rare…"

My pulse quickens, yet I listen intently, absorbing every word while concealing the inferno of trepidation that threatens to consume me.

Valeria paces with deliberate slowness. "But let us speak plainly, Eleanna Cordon. To destroy The Darkened Pulse, you must harness untold power. You must seek a phoenix's tear at dawn, the ash of a vampire turned to dust under a blood moon, the root of a mandrake pulled at the stroke of midnight, and finally, the whisper of a banshee sealed within a mirror of pure silver."

A chill settles over me from the gravity of her words. "Such things are not easily come by."

"Neither is destroying an object bound by dark magic!" Valeria says, her tone laced with snark.

"My Queen, she's only one witch, we should seek others. Perhaps they have an answer that isn't so dangerous," Nadia says.

Her loyalty is unwavering, yet she fears for my mortality more than I do.

"No, little vampire, even if you seek others and they know of this, the answers and what you must do remain the same," Valeria says flatly. "But we're ahead of ourselves. Should you survive the ritual and somehow obtain all that is needed, what then? Will you have the resolve to face what comes after?"

"That's one thing I'm never without." I look the witch up and down. "You may question many things about me, but not my quest to bring down Catarina and retake my throne at all costs. I will restore peace in our lands."

"Very well." Valeria turns her back to us, dismissing the conversation as if it were nothing more than idle chatter.

The room grows quiet, save for the crackle of the flames in the hearth. Nadia steps forward, and extends two more gold coins toward Valeria.

"For your counsel," Nadia says, her voice steady despite the tension that hangs between us like a thick fog. "It's all I have."

"Thank you, and good luck, Vampire Queen." Valeria's fingers brush against Nadia's as she takes the offering. The coins disappear within the folds of her dress.

"What compensation do you seek?" I ask. "A few coins won't be enough."

"How sweet." The witch taps her chin with a finger. "It'll come to me."

"It must be reasonable."

"When the truth of what it costs becomes clear, we'll both know. And then? I'll collect." She gestures toward the door. "Good night, Eleanna. Nadia."

We leave her cottage with its secrets and spells behind us, stepping out into the night where the snow falls gently. We mount our horses and ride back toward the fortress that looms in the distance like a specter of power and protection.

"Eleanna," Nadia says over the sound of hooves crunching through the snow. "Are you truly considering this ritual? It sounds perilous beyond measure and requires items too rare to acquire."

I nod, steering my horse around a fallen log. "Without the talisman, Catarina is defenseless. This could be our chance to end her tyranny once and for all."

"But at what cost? There must be another way to defeat her without risking your life."

"Risks are part of our eternal existence. But don't worry, Nadia. If anyone can endure this trial, it is I, your queen."

"Let us hope so," she murmurs.

When we finally reach the fortress, we dismount, guiding our horses into the stables where they can find respite from the biting cold. The stable hands are absent, likely seeking warmth elsewhere, leaving us to tend to our steeds ourselves.

"It's late. Go to bed and rest," I whisper to Nadia as we part ways within the stronghold's shadowed corridors.

"Good night, my Queen," she says. "I have faith."

I navigate through the dimly lit passageways, and pause outside Alexandru's bedchamber. I press my ear against the heavy oak door but it's silent within. What I should do is keep going. But my feet refuse to move.

With a gentle push, the door creaks open.

He's asleep in his bed, sheets tangled, chest naked and his body, pale and sculpted could be mistaken for a statue except for his chest rising and falling with the deep breaths of undisturbed slumber.

"Alexandru," I whisper. "Are you awake?"

It's clear he isn't. So knowing I should back out and continue to my own rooms I approach the bed. "Alexandru!"

He awakens with a start, his hand immediately reaching for the dagger he keeps beneath his pillow. But upon seeing me, his expression shifts from alarm to irritation.

"Eleanna, what is it?" He sits up, eyes narrowed as he runs a hand through his tousled hair.

For a moment I'm stumped, unsure what to say, confused to why I came in here.

"I have news."

Slowly he raises a brow and a smile touches his mouth. "That couldn't wait until morning?"

"It's not a joke," I snap, causing his smile to bloom a little bigger. "I left tonight to visit the nearby village and seek out a witch, Valeria, who revealed something crucial about Catarina's talisman."

His smile vanishes at my words and I step closer to the bed and onto the pool of silvery moonlight streaming through the window.

"Have you lost your mind, leaving the fortress at night?" His anger ripples through the room, a tangible force that causes me to slightly tremble. "You're too vulnerable!"

"I'm no weakling to be locked away and pandered to. Besides, your concern's misplaced. The information was worth the risk," I snap back, dismissing his anger with a wave of my hand.

His eyes narrow. "Nothing is worth risking your safety." His mouth sets as he leans forward. "Perhaps I should do that."

"Do what?"

"Lock you up and make sure you're safe. I'll take your no pandering rule though, in regards to your wishes. You'll be locked up, no bedding, down in the dungeon. I'm not a monster, so I'll leave you some bread and water once a day."

"My heart swoons."

His brow lifts and he sweeps his hair back once more. "And here I thought you harbored a poisonous lump of glass in your chest. You can have a pillow."

"Enough!" I level him with a glare. "I don't have time for your jokes."

"Who said anything about joking?"

"We may have found a way to destroy Catarina once and for all," I say.

"Fine. Tell me everything," he says, "but please mark down in your little diary of vengeance I'm not pleased about you running off."

I go to argue, but there's a gleam in his silver gaze that says he wants the fight. He's angry, yes, and privately, I admit, he's right to be so. I should have asked him to join. But the gleam's more than anger, there's a hunger, a need, something that stokes the fires within.

But I don't have time to indulge. Instead, I recount the witch's words. Alexandru listens intently, the gleam dampening into something else. When I finish, the room is hushed, save for snow fall striking the windows.

"And are you to do this alone?"

I blink. "I thought that's what she meant."

"No, those words didn't pass your lips and witches, while they can be tricky, will tell you the truth. If she didn't use those words then she didn't mean that."

I think back. "It sounded like I must complete it, though."

"Eleanna, I won't let you face this alone," Alexandru says. "Whatever this ritual demands, we will conquer it. Together."

"Your sentiment is touching, but?—"

"No," he cuts in, standing to tower over me, his presence commanding even in his low-slung pants he sleeps in—always ready to race into battle. "This isn't about sentiment. It's about strength. Yours and mine, combined. But we must be cautious and gather all the necessary ingredients before attempting such a dangerous feat."

"Agreed."

He nods. "When the time is right, we'll proceed."

"You don't need to help?—"

"Eleanna, stop." He takes my chin, moving closer, and lifting it so I have to look him in the eye. Where he touches tingles like he's the one with magic. "You came to me for help, protection, a partnership."

"I didn't ask for a partnership."

"You might think you didn't, but you did. There are others who'd help. Perhaps not as good as me at warcraft, but I'm not the only general. I'm not the only skilled fighter. But you don't have a history with those men and women. Come to me and you're offering some kind of partnership."

"That was all you, Alexandru. You pushed."

"The Red Queen is so weak she'd let a man set the rules," he mocks.

"I had no choice."

He moves in close, lips almost brushing mine. "There's always a choice. Like now."

Alexandru releases me, and in that moment, something shifts between us—a newfound understanding, a shared burden that binds us more tightly than any alliance before.

Because he's right. I could have kept walking. Told him this tomorrow. Or kept it to myself. Instead, I came into his bedchamber and woke him.

Everything in me shifts.

We stare each other down.

"Like it or not, you want me like I want you. Beyond the physical." There's a dare there, for me to defy him.

I can't.

And a slow fire builds in his eyes. I can't stifle the heated response pooling low in my belly. It's a familiar sensation and somehow new.

He grips my chin again, tipping my face up to meet his gaze. His silver eyes blaze with an intensity I've never seen before.

"Tonight, Eleanna," he says in a voice laced with dark tone, "I'll remind you why we're meant to rule jointly."

"You say that like you want to remind me why you're meant to be king."

He laughs, and slides his hand down to grip my throat, causing me being to throb and ache, and my pulse leaps with pure excitement. "Maybe that's wishful thinking on your part. Once you were mine."

"You pushed me away."

His grip tightens, cutting off my air, my words, opening up all the urges in me, sullied and sordid and exquisitely erotic.

"I broke the engagement because I saw what you were becoming, what your father made you. A cruel creature with a heart that locked itself tight," he says. "Time's passed, and that tyrant's gone and still you've been marching down that road he put you on, ignoring all the others, because everyone's too fucking scared to tell you differently."

I try and speak but he squeezes and runs his tongue over my lips.

"What?" he asks, faintly mocking, "are you going to say I did the same? Truth is, I didn't want to despise my queen. And if you wouldn't listen, I'd keep away, and watch. But he's gone and you're still stuck. You need someone who isn't scared. You need me by your side. In your bed."

I grab at his hand, but he doesn't budge and when I go to kick him, he drags me to the bed and in one motion slams me down, his body landing on me, hand still choking me, just enough to make that panicked, erotic excitement bubble.

"You need an equal. Someone you need to answer to. Someone who'll tell you when you're wrong. You need me. And, like it or not, you want me." He drops his mouth to my ear, his breath hot against me. "And I don't mean physical want. You want more than the sex and desire. You want what I offer, you want the partnership."

He lets go, just enough that I can speak. "You lie. I don't?—"

"Want that partnership?" His hand slides down now, over my breasts, down to beneath my skirts and my clit starts to throb, my pussy ache, even though he rests his fingers on my thigh. "You do."

He dances his fingers up, cruel how he skims and doesn't really touch. All he's doing is fanning desire into an inferno.

"You, my queen, don't want a consort. You want an equal."

"And that's you?"

"Isn't it?"

Without waiting for an answer, Alexandru kisses me, a slow, deep kiss that makes me breathless and wanting his control sex games that have unspoken perimeters. The kiss is romance, darkness, lifeblood, want. His weight pressing into me ignites a sizzling blaze within my core, and a hot ache begins to pool between my thighs. He trails hot kisses down my neck, his fangs grazing my skin oh so lightly.

"You," he says, sitting up and his clever fingers stripping me, "are going to feel every ounce of the desire I've been holding back for you."

"You think?"

Alexandru's fangs graze my pulse point, eliciting a moan from the depths of my being. And the hand that was on my thigh returns to it as he pushes me back down. It starts to creep upward.

I gasp when his fingers find my already slick pussy. He thrusts them into me, setting a rhythm meant to rile and offer nothing like relief. "You're so wet for me, Your Highness."

"And you're not hard?"

He laughs and bites my throat, not breaking the skin, even though the ache for that is a keening note within. "You're going to see for yourself. And make it good because that cell in my dungeon needs a new inmate."

"You wouldn't."

Alexandru coils a fist in my hair as he meets my gaze. "Wouldn't I?"

I move my head so the pull on my scalp is sharp. "No."

"But I would. As your equal, your master in the bedchamber, I very much would, my fallen Queen. In fact, the whips are there, some cat o'nine tails. A torture board I can chain you to and fuck you anywhere, anyhow, anytime I wish. I'll name it the Red Room, in honor of you."

"I don't like you, we're enemies and you'll never rule."

"And you will find yourself in Catarina's hands." It's a threat he'll never carry out but it still fills me with unease. "Enemies and lovers, maybe friends one day. Partners in ruling decisions. And my plaything when the bedchamber doors are closed. You always liked things on the edge."

He uses my hair to guide me down and he's already freed himself, his cock is standing up, thick, beautiful with a perfect head and I lick along a vein, suddenly eager for that feel of him in my mouth, so I take him in, stretching around him, pushing myself to take him all. He's in deep and I'm so hungry that it takes me a few moments to realize I'm setting the pace not him.

And a thrill rides through me as I lean over him, he's watching, eyes at half mast, erotic concentration on his face. He groans, his neck corded, the hand in my hair tight. He's trying to hold back as much as he can and I swirl my tongue, taking him to my throat, until he jerks in my mouth and fills my throat with his hot seed.

He pulls me off. "Damn. We'll make that part of the routine every day. Fuck, Eleanna, you're a dangerous woman."

"Shut up and fuck me, you arrogant prick," I say. "That's if you can get it up again." If I can goad him, then?—

His fangs grazing my lobe before he whispers, "As my Queen commands."

He flips me so he's on top and I'm on my back. He kisses me with the hunger of blood and life. Of passion and sin and need. And I kiss him back the same. I try and bite him because I want to make him hurt for me sucking him down, me wanting his cock in my mouth, me loving it.

But he pins my hands and pushes a knee between my thighs so his pants rub against my pussy.

I want to rip them off. It's not enough they're partially down. I want him as naked and vulnerable as me.

Except… Except I don't feel vulnerable. I feel invincible, like I'm riding his on his energy as it pulsates through me.

Then he kisses me again, soft kisses, small kisses. Long slow meandering ones that make me moan and turn me inside out and melting.

Finally, he lifts his head. "You fight and fight and you don't think about what it means. You need clarity. You need a fresh way of seeing things."

With that he sits up and releases my hands. Before I can move, he flips me so I'm on my stomach and he lifts my hips so I'm on all fours. Alexandru pushes my legs apart with one of his then he delivers a sharp smack on my ass and soothes the sting with the palm of his hand as he curls around me.

Face against the bed, arms down, ass up.

I do as he says and then he moves, and he's there, behind me, between my thighs. He thrusts two fingers in me, curling them and then pulling them out. A nasty little tease that makes me growl. And he uses my juices to paint my asshole. "This is going to be mine soon. All of you. As your partner, I demand everything."

Another moan breaks free and I try and find the cold resolve, the part of me that is willing to go along with everything he asks and says until Catarina is gone and I'm on the throne, then he'll find out the true power of a queen. She won't put up with arm twists and bullying. He'll be back here, alone.

I try, but I can't hold it tight, it keeps slipping away.

"Mind back here. I know you're plotting. You won't get rid of me, Eleanna. Not ever. Not now you've come to me again."

Before I can say a thing, he grabs my hips and slams into me. I quiver, my pussy pulsates around the invasion, and I relish the stretch from his hard, thick pole. He pulls out and slams back in, hitting me deep, unleashing a primal urgency made of hatred, need, and desire, all fueling the excitement. And I relish each thrust. I've never felt more alive, more real, than in this moment with my sworn enemy.

I feel every ridge of his shaft as it stretches me, breaching the tight confines of my body. It's a sensation that leaves me gasping for breath, craving more of his flesh inside me.

As he pounds me with relentless intensity, I dig my nails into the bed, loving how it hurts so good how the pleasure inside grows, blooms, but doesn't explode. Our moans and growls become one single primal sound, echoing the thunderous roar of my pounding heart.

His movements are wild, uncontrollable. With each fierce thrust, I push back to meet him, get more of him, matching the rhythm of his pounding.

The pain and pleasure create an intoxicating cocktail of sensations that leave me gasping for more. He starts to hammer into me and I orgasm the world around me erupting into pure pleasure.

His fingers grip me tight and he cries out, his cock throbbing inside me as he comes, too. I lie there, panting as he collapses over me, drawing me to him as he pulls out. I turn, look at him and our eyes meet. While we may still be rivals tomorrow, tonight, in this moment, we are a matched set of broken halves finally made whole.

"Alexandru," I breathe out, wanting…

I want his blood. I want him again. They think I'm cold and unyielding so many of my people, including the humans. I'm feared. Mighty. But right now, I'm anything but that. Right now, I'm small and warm and the closest to real life I've felt. What's the word? Fragile.

I don't like it.

His cock hardens again. I trace the line of his chiseled jaw with my fingertips, feeling the power radiating from him. He enters me once more, and the sounds of our union fill the room—skin against skin, labored breaths, and the creaking of the bed as it struggles to withstand the force of our passion.

"Eleanna," he growls, his voice muffled against the crook of my neck, his teeth grazing my skin just enough without breaking the surface.

The need is there, that fragility, too, the urge to be touched. All of that combines into something like an orgasm. The sensation is all-consuming, powerful enough to make me forget the centuries-long animosity between us.

The tension coils tighter within me, wound up by his relentless pursuit of my pleasure, each movement bringing me closer to the edge. He reaches down and strokes and teases my clit, sending everything up on a sharp trajectory as intense sensation spirals through me.

"More," I command.

His touch becomes more insistent, his pace quickening as if he, too, is racing toward some unseen finish line.

There's an understanding that words could never capture. This isn't tenderness; it's a battle, each of us determined to outlast the other yet equally desperate for our mutual surrender.

Just as the crescendo builds, the thrum of his ancient bloodline mingles with mine. It's a dark symphony that harmonizes with the rhythm of our bodies.

I'm close, teetering on the brink of oblivion, and with a few final, powerful thrusts, Alexandru sends me tumbling over the edge into ecstasy.

"Yes," I whisper, the word torn from me as my climax rips through my body. It's a declaration, a surrender, a submission all at once.

His release follows mine, marking me internally as sucks on my throat once again.

When it's done, he withdraws kissing me and pulling me to him in a tangle of limbs and sheets, the fire in the hearth warming our sated bodies. There's a stillness now, a calm after the storm, but beneath it all, the embers of our enmity—and something deeper, more dangerous—continue to smolder.

There'll be time later for me to rebuild the ruins of my defenses, time enough to work out how to use him and walk away. Or perhaps I won't. Perhaps I'll keep him as my personal general, and my consort. A man to protect the castle and warm my bed. But nothing more. And only when I need release.

The fragility in me is big now and I don't want to leave, I'm too weak. And he's too warm and there.

I rest my head against Alexandru's chest, and the steady rhythm of his heart is a gentle drum in the quiet room. His arms encircle me, a cocoon of warmth in the chill of the night.

The thoughts that flutter through my mind are like moths against a flame, erratic and elusive. What lies between us is nothing more than a whirlwind of desire, a tempest of the flesh with no roots in the deeper soils of the soul. Yet, as I hover on the edge of sleep, nestled in Alexandru's arm, a different truth brushes against my consciousness, soft as the touch of a feather.

The lie I weave is threadbare, unraveling with each beat of my heart against his. The notion that there are no real feelings between us, that this is solely lust, becomes a fragile veneer over a truth too profound to fully acknowledge in the light of day.

I need to strengthen my weak spots. Banish any fragility, starting tomorrow.

Sleep claims me, pulling me under with gentle, insistent hands, and a part of me whispers of a deeper connection, a bond that transcends the physical. My heart knows the lie for what it is—a shield against the vulnerability of admitting that what I feel for Alexandru is far more than I'm ready to confront.