Mon Sang (noun) my blood

The sound of hooves beating on the paver stones and the creak of wheels came, and moments later, my coach appeared. Its black carriage and riders were a welcome sight.

Unlike the woman beside me.

The one whose heartbeat was pulsing inside my bloodstone.

The one who was marked by my bite.

I'd never been more torn or more conflicted in my life.

Somehow, I'd done the impossible and found a way around the inability to cause her pain by tricking myself into believing I'd...excited her. That perhaps she'd wanted the pain that came with my bite.

Desired it, even.

Being close to her felt right, but it was foolish for so many reasons.

My impromptu plan had worked, but I knew I wouldn't be able to convince myself I excited her twice. Not after discovering her phobia of blood. And certainly not after the blind panic I'd experienced when she'd fainted in my arms, and I had to carry her off the dais.

I'd have to find some other way to satisfy my craving for blood. What that was, I wasn't sure. Hopefully, Imogen would have answers for me when we arrived at the castle.

My fingers grazed the throbbing stone hiding under my shirt, the one that had named her my mate, and I caught myself studying the way the moon shone on her hair, turning the loose lavender strands into a rainbow of color as they whipped around her heart-shaped face.

She was a infinitely beautiful problem.

As soon as I had the thought, I cursed myself for thinking it, but couldn't tear my gaze away from her.

I still made her uneasy. I could tell by the way she held herself and the way she kept shooting sidelong glances in my direction.

The coach came to a grinding halt and a footman hopped down, making a fuss over opening the door and preparing the steps.

Claire hugged her arms against a sudden gust of wind, and I struggled to hold back a smirk. If she thought this was cold, just wait until we arrived at Chateau Rose. Tucked away in the northwestern foothills of the mountains, snow decorated the pines nearly year round and the wind was unforgiving.

It would be my responsibility to keep her warm.

An all too familiar voice broke into my thoughts of Claire and how she would fare during the winters of Roselyn.

"Why is my general leaving so soon?"

Both she and I turned to find three members of my family sauntering toward the coach.

I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw at the sight of Marius, who was flanked by my brother Claude and his son, the little wretch, Tyson.

So much for stealing away while the party raged on. I'd done my due diligence by attending the ball, as Marius demanded, and now I was leaving.

He stopped short of where we stood. A glass of red wine in one hand and his other resting on the hilt of his sword at his hip. Subtly had never been his strong suit.

Claude and Tyson stood beside him, looking as much as father and son could. Dark brown hair and bronze skin. They both had the constitution of vampires that lived too comfortably.

Taking a sip of wine and eying Claire in a way that made my fists clench, Marius said, "I thought you'd stick around for a dance or two. Make small talk with the courtiers. You know, reassure the people that they are in good hands."

Me? Make small talk with courtiers? Perhaps the wine had washed out his good sense.

I wasn't good at offering reassurances. I was good at building alliances and ending lives.

I cast my attention to the dried leaves swirling around our feet. Even this far south, the usually warm air had turned crisp. "The seasons are changing. I have little time to send parties through the mountain passes before they're iced over. I cannot linger."

Marius and Claude exchanged looks, and I wondered what they'd really come to say, especially with Tyson in tow. He'd had his eighteenth name day this past year, and appeared a man grown. But vampires took much longer than humans to fully mature; in Tyson's case, I suspected the spoiled boy would take a millennium.

I introduced Claire, who curtsied and smiled. I wasn't sure if the money I'd given her sister had muzzled her or if, in the aftermath of our first bite, she realized she was in over her head.

Little did she know, Natalia was arranging for the girl to be followed and the coin traced.

"Tyson is eager to ride with his uncle in the campaigns in the west. To learn the lands he will one day inherit, whenever you find your mate and return to the capital."

I stilled, barely daring to breathe. They'd named this whelp heir to Chateau Rose? Without asking me first?

"Take him with you," Claude continued, beaming with pride. "He's the best sword in the training yard."

I snorted in response.

My gaze shifted to Claire, who was staring at me with big, brown eyes that were framed by thick black lashes. Her painted lips slightly parted.

The luscious curve of them drew me an inch closer, my own parting, before I caught myself. Cursing my weak will.

I was going to have my hands full with her. Threading the needle between keeping my desire at bay and feeding from her was going to be nearly impossible. Reluctantly, I regarded her neck and the lace choker that was coated with dried blood.

Why had she dabbled in magick? Didn't she understand the consequences?

There was something about her I couldn't place. That necklace left too many questions unanswered, which was why I sent Natalia to make inquires about her story.

But babysitting a spoiled, untested princeling wasn't going to make dealing with Claire any easier.

I contemplated the youth in front of me. Hoping I could scare him off.

"This isn't sparring matches in the ring, boy. The Lawless Lands are just that. Lawless. There are demons that walk the earth and witches that would curse you into nothingness. We are the only thing standing between the humans and safety."

I noticed Claire's expression shift from the corner of my eye. Fear. She was afraid.

Good. She should be.

Tyson puffed out his chest, which made me laugh. The boy responded with a hard glare that didn't intimidate me in the least.

"I'm well aware of the dangers, uncle. I want to win more land so my brothers can have a castle one day."

Win more land? Is that what he thought this was about? Palaces for princelings?

Instinct had me grabbing the boy by the throat. Darkness bled into my vision and I bared my teeth. The monster within revealing itself.

Claude growled protectively, even though he knew I wouldn't truly hurt his ungrateful little spawn.

Tyson gripped my wrist, trying to pry my fingers off his windpipe. But he wasn't nearly as strong as I was. No. Few were.

Claire let out an audible gasp when I snarled in Tyson's face. That one little noise had me tilting my chin in her direction. Her fear curled around my senses. Distracting me. And her heartbeat raced against my chest.

I was scaring her, I realized, and something uncomfortable twisted inside my chest.

I gritted my teeth and rubbed at my breastbone, trying unsuccessfully to work out the ache.

So what if I was scaring her?

If fear drove her away from me, all the better.

If I let down my guard, this boy would become the prince of Chateau Rose, in charge of pressing on my campaign, and I'd be banished to this place...with her.

I couldn't let that happen.

I regarded Tyson with disgust. In all his well kept southern finery the capital favored, he wouldn't survive in the Lawless Lands. Nor would the armies respect him.

This war was my burden. I couldn't let some boy inherit my mission. I'd been training for hundreds of years. Forging alliances he couldn't hope to understand. All because of some woman.

"We're not conquering land for castles, boy," I gritted out. Letting my temper fuel each word. "We have a higher purpose."

Marius's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. "Enough, Bastien. We only ask out of courtesy. Tyson will join you. He needs to be tested."

I cursed under my breath as I shoved him aside. I knew I'd already lost this battle. If I tried to challenge Marius, and it came to crossed swords, there was a chance he'd see my bloodstone and know the truth.

It was best to take the wretched boy with me and hope for the best.

"I can't protect him from his own foolishness," I told my brother, who nodded demurely. "Then grab your sanguine partner and your trunk." I spit on the ground at his feet. "Make sure to leave your ridiculous courtly attire behind."

With a curt nod, my nephew took his leave, his father at his heels. Marius, content with his troublemaking, waved his wine glass in the air.

"I hope to see you at the next Sanguination Ball. Until then. Brother. Claire." He bowed. "Adieu, mon sang."

Once he was gone, I seized Claire's hand and guided her toward the coach.

"Get in," I commanded her, still seething.

She shot me a look that would've made a lesser man cower. "You don't need to take your bad mood out on me. I didn't invite your nephew."

"Get in, please," I added through my teeth.

Claire rolled her eyes, but did as she was told. I backed up a pace as the footman handed me the reins to my horse. With one easy motion, I mounted, patting his neck.

"Aren't you coming?" Claire asked, climbing onto the topmost step of the coach.

Coming into the carriage? With her? Absolute not. I couldn't trust myself alone with her.

"No. I ride with the guard." My lip curled into a wicked grin. "Tyson can keep you company."

Before anything else could be said, I motioned to the footman and he snapped the door shut. I didn't want to see her reaction. I didn't want to see her at all.

So. Much. Angst. 🤣

Angsty vampires are so much fun to write.

Who thinks Tyson will be on Team Claire? Or Team Bastien? 👀

Question: Do you enjoy reading slow burns? What is the best/worst part of them?