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Sirus had no doubt of that. The dragon made himself at home wherever he went, whether his host was hospitable to the idea or not.
The mage shifted to the edge of her seat to take her leave, but then she paused. Her eyes lingered on the large stone mantel, on the wolves carved into each side.
“You should have seen her face, Sirus,” Levian said with heaviness. “I’ve known you a long time—Barith as well. Niah is your kin, and Rath might as well be. We have all known you. I tried, but—we all knew you were going to die.” She let out a slow breath as she fiddled with her glass. “You’re alive because she willed it.”
That foreign emotion inside him stirred at her words. During his time in reflection, he’d thought on this more than anything. Gwendolyn had willed him to live, but he’d wanted it. At the fringes of death, he’d been drawn back to life. He told himself it was because she remained in danger. His work wasn’t yet complete. But even he recognized the lie that it was. Even if he wasn’t yet willing to acknowledge exactly what it meant.
“You have a strange bond, the two of you,” she went on, watching him closely. “I thought so the moment you arrived in London. Your paths are intertwined. Now even more than before.” She searched his eyes for something. Her face softened when she didn’t find it. “All those years together,” Levian continued, softness seeping into her voice. “All those times you saved Barith and me from catastrophe. From ourselves.” She huffed a little laugh. “I truly expected to never see you again after you left. Perhaps the Fates have delivered Gwen to intertwine our paths again.”
Sirus bristled at the suggestion that Fate had anything to do with it. “Or it is coincidence,” he countered, harkening back to their conversation at Ember Hall in London.
She smirked at that. “Yes. Perhaps.” Levian stood then. “I know you don’t think of Barith and me as your friends,” she told him. “To be fair, I didn’t think of you as one either, even after all our years of working together. But watching you nearly die made me realize I was wrong. For whatever it’s worth, and whether you wish it or not, I am your friend, Sirus. And so is Barith, despite his current foul mood.”
He was not entirely sure what to say to that. Before Gwendolyn, he might have said nothing. “A new beginning,” he offered.
The mage gave a little nod, a weight evaporating from her face as she smiled softly. “A new beginning,” she agreed before downing what remained in her glass.
Sirus thought of Gwendolyn, and a heaviness settled over him. He’d felt at peace slipping into death knowing she was safe. Then he’d felt her. Her essence. Her magick. Calling to him in the darkness. Levian was right. Their paths had been intertwined. Now even more than before. He felt the bond of blood. Felt Gwendolyn’s essence pulse through his veins. He was bound to her now. He always would be. But he would also do his best not to burden her. He owed her that. Owed her more.
He lived, but he was still a vampire. Still a creature of death and shadow. Gwendolyn was life and light. No matter what distant emotions stirred deep within his icy heart, he would do well to remember that.
Chapter Two
Endless whispered voices called to her from the darkness. Those familiar green eyes of the man in the woods bored into hers. Dread twisted like a gnarled hand around her heart. “Selda asor Listë,” a disembodied voice called to her.
Daughter of Darkness.
A warm touch grazed her cheek. Gwen turned toward Sirus. She breathed him in and slid her hand over his. Savoring his touch. He leaned in, pulling her closer, the shadows tightening around him. “Stay away, Gwendolyn,” he whispered into her hair.
No, she thought with despair, closing her eyes. He should stay away…But she didn’t want him to go. Once he was gone?—
He pulled back, and his lips caressed hers in a featherlight kiss. Gwen ran her fingers over his bearded cheek and felt the electricity of their contact from the tips of her fingers down to her toes. Her eyes shot open.
She stood in a dark forest filled with a thick haze, her heart so heavy she could barely breathe. She was alone. Sirus was gone.
The sound of waves eventually drew her attention forward. Gwen emerged at the edge of the wood, which edged along a rocky beach. Beyond, a vast black ocean sparkled with starlight. Not from above, but below. Stretched over the ethereal black sky were the branches of a great sprawling tree, the leaves of which glowed with magick.
The heaviness in Gwen’s heart began to subside. She knew this place. Somehow.
Something rustled in the brush behind her. She turned and came face-to-face with a giant gray-and-white wolf standing in the shadowed mist of the forest. Its bright green eyes watched her.
The whispers of magick shifted amongst the haze and the stirring leaves like a gentle breeze.
“I don’t understand,” she told the wolf. “What do you want?”
The wolf cocked its head—its eyes shifted to a vibrant purple.
It wanted nothing, she realized. It was simply waiting.
The wolf watched her with interest—its eyes shifted to a piercing yellow.
Hot tears blurred her vision, and she wiped them away. At her shoulder, Sirus whispered her name. Gwen spun around with a sharp gasp. He snatched her hands to his chest as if he was desperate to hold on to her. His eyes were pure black, blood smeared over his face. The forest and sea gone. A sob fell out of her as she peered up at him, her skin burning at the far edges of her consciousness.
“I’m sorry,” she breathed as the shadow coiled tighter around them. The pain in his black eyes made her heart ache like it was being ripped in two. She ran her fingers over his beard once more, smearing the blood. It was all her fault. All of it.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered as her lips brushed against his, trying to savor every last moment.
“Selda asor Listë, len,” the whispers called to her. Come, Daughter of Darkness. “Olnwë asor Huinë.” Child of Shadows.
