1865

The celebration is beautiful, strings of lanterns stretching between buildings across the square. Some enterprising women have swathed the fountain in evergreen boughs and wildflowers, and the husbands had hauled many tables and benches out for the platters of food their wives had cooked.

A wedding always brings Willow Creek together, and I smile as I raise my mug in a cheer as another villager makes a toast to the happy young couple.

They look blissfully happy, with flushed faces and their hands clasped together as they speak with others. Young, naive, and full of dreams and desires.

My smile becomes wistful and I take a sip of the ale, wrinkling my nose. Humans love the bitter drink, but I’ve always preferred wine.

Someone sits beside me, and I turn, ready to welcome them. My smile becomes genuine as Ashe Halford smirks at me, his golden eyes alight with mischief.

“There you are,” I tease. I look beyond him to see the rest of the Nightshades making their way into the celebration. Josephine goes immediately to the young couple, pressing a large basket full of gifts into their hands before wrapping them both in a genial embrace.

Unlike the Jamesons, Ambrose never treated the villagers as lesser creatures. In return, the humans were loyal and welcoming to them. I’d worried the humans would question their nature, especially since each vampire boasts distinctive golden eyes. But whatever questions they had were soon forgotten by having a leader who sees to the needs of the town.

Ambrose is speaking with the father of the bride, a smile on his handsome face as the older human speaks. Malachi, Ezra, Landon, and Rhys disappear into the crowd, but not before Josephine shoots a look at Ashe.

“Josephine will have your hide if you disappear,” I warn, nudging Ashe with my shoulder.

The vampire grins, the sight making my heart skip a beat. I take another sip of ale, needing to cool the heat that’s been growing in me ever since we kissed.

Ever since Ashe stole kisses, teased me, and made me long for more. I’ve never reacted to a man like this. I’d had a couple lovers, but because of my witch nature, I never kept them for long. I’d never considered taking a vampire lover before. My slow aging would mean nothing to a nearly immortal being. Something is still holding me back, though, from letting go and giving myself to him.

I’d been betrayed by loved ones before, hurt by those who were supposed to protect me. I don’t know if I can open myself again to that pain.

Ashe leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear and I shiver. “I can steal you away, Cassandra,” he murmurs, and his warm breath against my skin has me clenching my thighs together.

Ashe chuckles, no doubt scenting my arousal, and I scowl at him. He straightens, his hand settling on my knee and his thumb rubs soothing circles through the fabric.

My eyes dart around, trying to see if anyone else notices the too familiar touch. It’s quite inappropriate for Ashe to be touching me like this, especially in public, but I can’t bring myself to pull away from him.

No one seems to notice, and I take another sip of ale. Rhys is sitting with two other villagers, opening the case of his fiddle and setting it to his shoulder with a grin at the others. One has a hand drum and the other has a well-worn guitar. As the music starts, the groom leads the bride into a small clearing while the rest of the people gather around them, clapping in time with the music.

I frown when I see an unfamiliar man leaning against the post of the general store’s perch. He’s half in the shadows, but I’m certain I’ve never seen him here before.

I jump, almost spilling my ale, when Ashe’s lips brush my ear again.

“Dance with me,” Ashe cajoles before stealing my mug of ale and downing it with a roguish smirk. He stands and I shake my head, laughter building in my chest.

“Oh, no, I don’t dance,” I tell him and half-heartedly pull back when he grabs my hand. “I trip over my feet enough walking!”

Ashe doesn’t relent, his eyes sparkling with amusement. My heart is helpless against his grin. “It’ll be fine, trust me.”

I narrow my eyes at him, allowing him to pull me to my feet. “If you let me fall, vampire, I’m cursing you.”

Ashe laughs, the sound causing warmth to blossom in my chest. “If I let you fall, Cassandra, I’d deserve it.”

We join the villagers already dancing, and Ashe pulls me closer with a hand on my waist. I allow him, not bothering to hide my pleased smile when I wrap my hand in his. The music is a quick reel, and sure enough I trip as soon as Ashe starts us spinning along with the rest of the dancers around the area. True to his word though, he keeps me upright, holding me against his chest in the most indecent fashion. My feet barely touch the ground as we continue to dance, both of us breathless with laughter.

Ashe twirls me, and I laugh again, my head thrown back. I meet the eyes of the unfamiliar man and I stumble, losing my balance.

Ashe catches me, pulling me against his chest. His golden eyes are serious, his mouth a hard line. “Cassandra?”

I shake my head, nodding towards the stranger. “There’s someone I’ve never seen in Willow Creek before.”

Ashe’s head whips towards where the man had been, his brows furrowing. The man is gone, and Ashe turns back to me, his expression concerned.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his hands gentle on my arms.

“Of course I’m sure,” I say, frowning. Then I shake my head, laughing again. “Come on, I’m desperate for a drink after that.”

He leads me through the dancers and the gathered crowd towards the table with refreshments. A few of the unmarried young women eye me with envy at Ashe’s attention and my cheeks heat. With how small Willow Creek is, there aren’t many options for marriage, and Ashe is attractive and well situated. If he were human, he’d been an ideal husband for any of these women.

A thrill goes through me when I meet his gaze as he presses a new cup into my hands. Ashe has never once looked at another woman around me, even though I’m certainly not the most beautiful one here. I take a cautious sip, then drink greedily of the perfectly tart and cold lemonade.

“Better?” he asks when I finish, a sigh of contentment slipping from my lips.

“Much.” I look at the dancers and confess, “I don’t think I’m up for anymore dancing, though.”

When I look back at Ashe, the hunger in his eyes steals my breath and has heat rushing between my thighs. My core throbs and I swallow roughly, my heart pounding.

Ashe doesn’t speak, taking my empty cup and setting it on the refreshment table.

“Come with me?” he asks, but he’s already leading me away into the shadows. We pass Lan and Ezra chatting with two younger women, and Ezra winks at me.

Such strange company I’m finding myself in since the Nightshades came to town. I never thought I’d meet a half-vampire, half-demon in my life. I never thought they could exist.

Ashe leads me down the narrow lane towards the edge of Willow Creek, and when we pass the last lantern, he sweeps me into his arms. My startled squeak turns to a laugh, my arms going around his neck.

Ashe’s grin flashes in the moonlight, his golden eyes glowing, and I’m struck again by how beautiful he is. How beautiful they all are.

Vampires have always been creatures of the night, the dark their home. Yet Ashe’s pale skin and sable hair seem to glow, as if the moon herself has blessed him.

I trace my fingers along his cheek and Ashe turns his face, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin of the inside of my wrist. My heart skips a beat, and my core pulses again with need.

Ashe’s lips curve, and his eyes flash brighter. “Cassandra,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my skin with each syllable.

I’m helpless against his pull, drawn to him like the flowers towards the sun. My lips brush his, and Ashe groans, his hand tightening on my waist.

Ashe turns and presses me against the rough bark of a tree, his lips devouring mine. I moan, my hands threading through his silky hair.

His hips pin mine, and I gasp at the press of his hard length against my thigh. Ashe growls, his fangs grazing the curve of my neck.

I tilt my head, pleasure rushing through me at the idea of his fangs piercing my flesh. Ashe groans, his lips blazing a trail along the column of my neck, his tongue tracing the lines of my pulse.

My hands fall to his shoulders, and I whimper when his fangs graze the top swell of my breast. Ashe growls again, the primal sound vibrating through me.

I know he must drink blood to maintain his supernatural power, and the witch in me revolts at the idea of letting him pierce my skin. It goes against everything I was taught by my old coven.

After leaving them, though, I’ve learned magic and our world seeks balance. Giving my blood to Ashe, letting him give me pleasure in return—that feels right. It feels natural and magical and intimate.

Ashe’s fangs skate lower, his hands cupping my breasts through my clothing. Pleasure rushes through me and I moan, my head falling back against the tree trunk.

Ashe groans, his tongue tracing the curves of my breasts. “Gods, I’ve dreamt of these breasts,” he speaks against me. “What spell have you put me under, witch?”

I gasp, my hips thrusting against his. Ashe growls, and the sound goes straight to my core. My body knows what it wants, what it needs.

“Cassandra.”

“Yes,” I gasp, my hands gripping his shoulders. “Take my blood, Ashe. Drink from me.”

He stills against me and I squirm, desperate to continue feeding the pleasure he’s begun. I look down, meeting his glowing eyes—a serious expression in his eyes.

“Are you certain?” His voice is a smoky rasp. His entire body is taut, on the verge of losing control. His determination to respect my choice only confirms my decision.

“Yes,” I say, moving my hands to his hair and guiding him closer to my neck. “Please, Ashe.”

He doesn’t strike right away, languidly dragging his tongue against my pulse. My head falls back against the tree, my back arching against him.

When his fangs do sink into my flesh, it’s not pain—it’s pure pleasure. My fingers tighten in his hair, holding him to me as Ashe’s fangs sink deeper into my neck.

Blood wells and Ashe groans, drinking from me. I moan, pleasure rushing through me, and my core throbs.

One of Ashe’s hands cups the back of my head, protecting me as he continues to feed. His other slips beneath my skirts, his hand hot against my thigh.

Ashe’s fingers brush against the wetness soaking my undergarments and we both moan. He traces the edge of the silk, his fingers dipping beneath the edge.

I bite my lips to hold back the moan choking me, my hips bucking into his touch. Ashe drinks, his fingers finding the sensitive nub of my core. I cry out, pleasure rushing through me.

Ashe circles his thumb, and I writhe against him, my hands skating over him, grabbing him in any way I can as my body is pushed closer to that edge.

Ashe retracts his fangs, his tongue sweeping across the wound to seal it. My blood drips from his fangs and the sight is so erotic I cry out.

Ashe claims my lips, his tongue thrusting into my mouth. He tastes of my blood and I moan, the coppery, rich taste intoxicating.

Ashe breaks the kiss, his other hand sliding beneath the other side of my skirts and gripping my bottom, lifting me higher against the tree.

I wrap my legs around his waist, my core grinding against the hard bulge straining against Ashe’s trousers.

“Cassandra,” Ashe growls against my lips. He continues to circle my sensitive core and I’m helpless against the rush of pleasure.

I cry out, my release crashing over me. My fingers dig into Ashe’s shoulders, my hips grinding against his.

Ashe groans, his lips trailing kisses along my jaw and down the other side of my neck. He licks the spot he drank from, his fangs grazing the sensitive skin.

He continues to circle my sensitive core, drawing out my pleasure. I gasp, pleasure rushing through me again as my core pulses with need.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs the praise so quietly I barely hear it over my pounding heart. “Such a perfect mate for me.”

I still, uncertain I’d heard him correctly. Clarity sweeps across my mind like a gust of winter wind and I struggle to look at him. He lifts his head enough to look at me, his pupils blown wide with need, the hardness against my core ever present.

“What did you say?” I rasp out, needing him to say it again.

He blinks rapidly and then a slow smirk slants across his bloodied lips. “You’re my mate, Cassandra.” He brushes a whisper of a kiss across my lips. “I knew it the moment I saw you that day you tumbled into the road.”

I shake my head, thoughts racing through my head so fast I can’t catch any of them. “No,” I finally choke out. I push at his chest and he lets me go, stepping away as I frantically straighten my skirts. “It’s impossible,” I say again. I don’t know if I’m talking to him or me or the universe.

“Cass—”

“I need to go,” I interrupt him. Then I flee.