To Love a Vampire - A.K. Koonce Page 0,5
my warm drink, letting it set uncomfortably in my stomach, as Luca stares into the distance where the warrior disappeared.
“I’m not trying to brag, but me taking my pants off would have been more entertaining than that, I promise,” Declan whispers to me as he leisurely walks by.
The tension leaves my body in an instant. I close my eyes and force the smile from touching my solemn lips.
Two
Rejection
The night is passing with little entertainment. It’s nearly two in the morning and the Wanderers show no sign of slowing down the party. Their normally swift feet stumble against the dry dirt, their movements more and more staggering as the night carries on. Luca caught the attention of an abnormally handsome fae over an hour ago and has been dancing the night away.
Entering the large military style tent feels like a bad choice but I walk inside anyway. The question I’ve been set on asking for the past few months has been burning inside me and consuming my thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I hold courage in my lungs to ask what I’ve already asked nearly half a dozen times now.
The layers of the thick tan fabric that creates four walls of the tent shield the air flow but it’s not uncomfortably hot. Unless you’re nervous and have had a little too much to drink.
I swallow hard and wipe the sweat from my palms on my dark jeans, pieces of dried mud flake off against my fingertips, momentarily distracting me as I grind the pebbles of dirt into dust. My heart pounds loudly, flushing my face with heat as I try to recall the words I want to say.
A few mystics lean against a table at the side of the room talking privately and a large table sits in the center. It’s long enough to accommodate at least a dozen people but only half the chairs are being used.
The well-traveled ground is permanently imperfect, dips and divots detail the packed dirt. A partially worn path leads to the front of the table, right to the one person the Wanderers trust above all others.
Lord Raske sits at the head of the table and his commanding general, and son, Kaino, sits to his right. His second in command, and most surprisingly loyal subject, Declan sits to his left. No one here trusts the hybrid and yet their leader does. The three of them speak in a quiet and serious tone, a static buzz courses through the room from the sound of their hushed voices.
Though Declan is silently despised among the Wanderers, he has his lord’s highest respect. Declan was a wanderer long before the government established a community to dump them all into and he helped Lord Raske raise this village into the powerful and self-reliant foundation that it is today.
What everyone is well aware of though, is that a decade of success isn’t something to cheer about. Our community is young and has enemies all around. Including the ones who granted us our secret freedom.
Confidently, I step up to the opposing end of the table and force myself to pull my hands behind my back in a military stance. A stance Ky took thousands of times. I swallow the thought down and keep my eyes trained on Lord Raske and no one else. My spine straightens, my chin held high, my eyes respectful but unwavering.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the surrounding members of the table focus on me; Kaino, Declan and finally Lord Raske.
Lord Raske fills the end of the table, his heavy frame leaning into the old wood, testing the strength of the structure as he presses his large forearms onto the top. His black hair is trimmed close, flecks of gray are scattered throughout. His eyes, so like his sons, stare back at me, a glint of a predator present within the depthless dark irises.
“Fallon, I’m happy to see you enjoying our festivities this evening.” A creasing smile fills the lord’s round jovial face. “Do you need Kaino for anything? We’d be willing to spare him.” He laughs a booming echo, his happiness shaking his wide body, and the majority of the mystics join him. Except for Kaino and Declan.
Lord Raske is pushing Kaino and I together, like two birds in a small, small cage. I blink harshly and struggle to form a slight smile on my tight lips. The false emotions my mother taught me to use to my advantage are fading and are hard