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August 8 - August 9, 2025
Voids convicted of crimes unlucky enough to be sent to Greymere didn’t sit in cells—they served. Born without magic, we were the only ones who could physically tolerate working in Greymere. No void volunteered to live without the comforts magic offered. The witches weren’t the only prisoners here.
You’d be a wonder with fangs. You smell different. He was a wizard with compliments.
“No one deserves to be forgotten. If it’s any reassurance, Samara, I intend to live a very long life. And I will not forget you for any of it.”
“Listen to me, Samara. You can tell yourself I killed him because I’m an evil vampire. Or because I found his voice irritating and the wine he gave you smelled suspicious, or simply because I didn’t care for the way he looked for any excuse to put his hands on you. It matters not. He’s dead, and you still have to travel with me. As long as you’re in my care, you’re mine. No one else’s.”
“Go north, to the marshes, to the abandoned temple of Anagenni. The Black Grimoire was entombed there seven hundred and seventy-seven years ago. It is locked away behind a statue of the patron goddess, guarded by traps even we do not know, so only the worthy may take possession of the book.”
“Because you remind me of a little bird, between the rapid flutter of your heart and clear desire to spread your wings.”
“You caught me.” Three words. The most I could manage in this position. “I did,” he agreed. Like it was nothing.
“That’s right. As long as you’re here with me, dove, you’re mine. And I protect what’s mine. Ruthlessly.”
“Oh, you’re much more than that. You’re the first human Raphael’s ever claimed as his Chosen.”
“You’ll watch over me if I drink?” “I’ll always watch over you.”
“Samara, there is nowhere in this world I would not go if you wished me to.”
“You haunt my thoughts constantly, yet I fear I am not in yours with anything but contempt. Tell me, Samara. If I took you now, would you hate me? Regret me? Or would you crave me as ruthlessly as I crave you?”
