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July 5 - July 6, 2025
“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.”
A vampire who remembered me. It was the stuff of nightmares.
“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 no matter what predator lurked in the woods, there was none worse than the one in bed with me. And this one was devoted to keeping me safe—for now, anyway.
“You raised those hands at her,” Raphael snarled. His voice… I’d heard it like that only in the echoes of my nightmares of the Monastery initiation. “You reached for what was mine with those hands.” “My king! I apologize. I did not realize she was yours. The scent of her blood overtook me. I forgot myself.” My king, the vampire had called him. I trembled at the word. King.
I stared up in confusion, then gasped as he lifted my palm to his lips and gave it a lick. But he wasn’t looking at me. Around us, a crowd had gathered. He removed his mouth, but held my arm high, as though I were some trophy. King. “This woman is mine. No one is to touch her.” He addressed them easily, like it was his birthright. “To do so is to forfeit your right to a quick and easy death.”
Raphael nodded. “That’s right. As long as you’re here with me, dove, you’re mine. And I protect what’s mine. Ruthlessly.”
“Then survive here, Samara,” he urged. “Thrive here. You’ve never had a chance to know yourself—I’ll give you that, and more.”
“I’m not saying you have to drink. But if you wanted to indulge, I would watch over you.”
“Of course. I said I would watch over you, Samara. What would keep you safer than sleeping at my side?”
“Would you… visit me, once I’m settled?” The thought, silly as it was, slipped through before I could catch it on my tongue. The late hour made it too easy to say these ridiculous things. He drew closer, his cedar scent licking at my senses, our knees touching. “Samara, there is nowhere in this world I would not go if you wished me to.”
I shook my head. “I can’t do this.” He didn’t play coy and ask what I meant. “I’ll always respect your wishes.”
“I do not pity you,” Raphael repeated. “Little viper, I find you irresistible.”
wouldn’t be enough to translate the grimoire. I would need to steal it. The necromancer that Raphael had failed to locate—I’d find them. I’d give them the book. I’d give the monsters something to fear.
“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?”
He was an enemy, king of the monsters I despised. May the ninth hell spare me, he was everything I craved.
