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‘…I'll meet you in three days’ time, after the sun sets. There’s a clearing by the river. I’ll meet you there.’
‘And if it doesn’t?’
‘I will meet you at the clearing…’
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‘This is madness, Milady,’ said Luka as she fastened her Lady’s cloak.
‘You are wasting your breath, Luka. You will not change my mind,’ dismissed Sonja.
‘A Lycan? Of all the creatures in the world, you had to choose him?’
‘Yes, I did. And I’d do it again. Now please, hurry.’
Sonja couldn’t contradict Luka’s words. The idea was as mad as a Vampire loving a Lycan. It would take just one to notice the difference in height or detect her distinctive scent and the plan would fail as easily as Lucian’s attempt to free all his Lycan brothers, not just himself. Her father had ordered her to be confined to her chambers, guards outside her door and in the courtyard beneath her window. Only her lady-in-waiting, Luka, was permitted to enter to bring her meals and to leave immediately. But Sonja was never the kind of lady to wait for her fate to be decided for her.
She had promised to meet Lucian in the clearing in three days. And she meant three days. The sooner the better.
Luka had arrived early, just before dawn of the second day as planned, shrouded in her burgundy cloak. The plan was simple; Sonja and Luka were to swap places. They would don each other’s hooded cloaks, Luka would remain here disguised as her Lady, while Sonja would walk out past the guards who would believe her to be Luka and make her way to the courtyard where a horse, provisions and armour would be waiting. It was too much to hope that no one would notice the clanking of her metal armour, and she would only need it to make it to the treeline. If she was discovered and pursued, the rising sun would disintegrate her would-be hunters.
The two women embraced like sisters, before Luka took her position lying with her back to the door on her Lady’s bed, her hood pulled down, and Sonja picked up her untouched silver dinner tray and knocked on the door to be allowed to leave her quarters. The door creaked opened as her Death Dealer guard let her out, Sonja moved as slowly and calmly as possible to avoid suspicion.
‘Wait!’
Sonja froze.
‘Come here.’
Sonja pivoted, still holding the tray, the Death Dealer approached her. She kept her head bowed beneath her hood, praying he wouldn’t try to catch her eye. He picked up the undrunk cup of ox blood.
‘Waste not, want not. Do not tell Viktor.’
Sonja shook her head, not trusting that her voice won’t betray her. The Death Dealer knocked back the blood and slammed the cup down as if he were at a human tavern. Sonja curtseyed and withdrew. Passing off the tray to a Vampire handmaiden, Sonja hurried down corridors to the courtyard. Luka’s horse, Fidelius, was waiting in the stables, Sonja’s armour hiding under its hay. She dressed quickly.
Not long now, Lucian. I’m coming, my love.
There was a shatter of breaking glass and a terrible, piercing scream, followed immediately by a horrible crunching thud in the courtyard. Sonja’s heart stopped. She did not need to see to know the fate of her dear friend. She mounted her horse and charged out of the stables towards the open gates.
‘Stop her!’ roared Viktor from the broken window.
‘Seal the gates!’ called the gate master.
But Sonja had already cleared the gates. Sadly, so had three Death Dealers. Sonja took evasive action, just as she had done with the wild pureblood Lycans, as her pursuers fired arrows from crossbows at her, weaving in and out of large boulders flung from trebuchets many battles ago. The sun was rising, its golden white-hot rays traveling across the ground like an oncoming wave. One Death Dealer foolishly dithered in fear and indecision, too far out to abandon the chase and return to base, and too far away to reach to forest, and was dissolved, his empty armour collapsing as it clattered to the ground. Its charge lowered its head unconcernedly to eat the grass.
Sonja pushed her steed on. She was going to make it – she had to make it. She heard two more cries as her former comrades were felled by the sun.
Almost –
Something hit Sonja in the back and went right through her, the force of it throwing her from her horse. She landed hard in the grass, an arrow sticking out of her abdomen. From the parapet, Viktor, shielded from the sun by two Lycan slaves holding up a stretched banner of his family House, an enhanced crossbow held in his pale hands; able to shoot arrows from great distances.
If he only knew what an almost perfect shot he’d made… he’d have wished the sun had burnt her alive.
Like mistress, like servant, Fidelius, stood loyally in front of Sonja, his broad seventeen hands body casting a long shadow, providing Sonja safe passage to crawl slowly to the shade of the trees. Breaking the fletching, she pushed the arrow out of her stomach and wrapped a bandage around her abdomen, a patch job until she had time to heal. Then Fidelius bent his legs, crouching down in the grass, allowing his new mistress to climb onto his back before standing up and trotting onward toward her love.
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‘Has there been any sign of Sonja?’ asked Lucian.
Raze shook his head. ‘Nothing.’
‘She should be here by now,’ Lucian muttered fretfully to himself.
What if something had happened? Was she delayed? Had Tannis turned her in to save his skin? Or had Viktor finally discovered their secret amor by force through her blood memories?
‘With respect, Lucian,’ Xristo said, ‘I do not see the wisdom in waiting for her.’ He frowned at the thought of bringing Viktor’s daughter into their midst. ‘She is not one of us.’
Lucian had anticipated this prejudice reaction. ‘Have you forgotten that she is the one who set us free?’
‘But she is a Vampire!’ Xristo protested. Unable to contain himself, he jumped to his feet. He glowered at the nearby river, where Lucian hoped to soon rendezvous with Sonja. ‘If she has betrayed you, she could lead them to us!’
Betray us? Lucian would not hear his beloved slandered thus. Rising in anger, he grabbed Xristo by the throat and swung him into the trunk of a sturdy oak. The jarring impact shook the tree, causing nuts and branches to rain down on them. Xristo squirmed helplessly in Lucian’s grasp. All around the camp, humans and lycans were riveted by their leader’s outburst. Lucian raised his voice so that all would hear – and understand that his love for and faith in Sonja was not to be questioned:
‘Death Dealers will undoubtedly be on the hunt,’ he stated bluntly, tightening his grip on Xristo’s throat to ensure that he had the husky Lycan’s full attention. ‘And they will eventually find us. But not by her doing.’ He released Xristo, who staggered, massaging his throat. ‘I trust Sonja with my life, and as long as I am in command, so shall you.’
Xristo nodded meekly. Lucian walked away to resume his post, waiting for Sonja to appear.
‘Told you not to say anything,’ said Sabas.
Lucian waited, hating that, despite his unwavering belief in Sonja, Xristo’s words still niggled at the back of his mind, like an angry wasp trapped under glass.
Lucian’s ears pricked up, his heightened wolf hearing detecting the unmistakable sound of hoofbeats echoing through the forest behind him.
The other rebels heard it too, seizing their weapons. Fear swept over the campsite, with many of the men looking poised to run. Others snarled as they girded themselves for battle. Fangs and claws extended as several of the Lycans shifted into wolfen form. Raze raised his hand silently ordering them to stand their ground. Was this the raid they had been expecting for days now? Had the Death Dealers found them at last?
I think not, Lucian thought. The resounding clop-clop coming toward them sounded like the advance of a lone rider, not the thunderous charge of an invading force.
‘Milady…’
Lucian signalled the men to stand ready as he rushed forward to meet the horseman – or woman. A thrilling possibility caused his heart to beat wildly in anticipation. Could this be Sonja? Who else would know where to find us?
He peered hopefully into the shadows, and was rewarded by the sight of a solitary horsewoman riding into the clearing. A hooded burgundy riding cloak hid the newcomer’s identity. Slender white hands gripped the reins of an ebony-black palfrey. There was no mistaking it. Even from this distance, Lucian could smell Sonja’s sweet aroma as he hurried to meet her, beaming. She’d come! One night earlier than planned! He cared not whether it boded well or not, all that mattered was that she was here.
Lucian’s face lit up. He raced to meet her.
Sonja, my love!
The woman pulled back on the reins, bringing her horse to a halt, hunching forward with a groan of discomfort.
As Lucian drew closer, another scent mingled with Sonja’s essence. Metallic, that wetted the wolf’s appetite as it would a shark, like a moth to a flame.
Blood. And something else. Something foul, like herbs and rotting flesh.
‘Sonja –’
Sonja keeled over off her horse and landed in Raze’s strong arms. He carried her across the clearing and over to Lucian’s spot, lowering her carefully onto his bed, Lucian himself dropping down on his knees beside them in a blink. Dark scarlet blood covered Sonja’s pale hands that were pressed to her stomach, parting them they saw a stained bandage around a half-healed wound to her abdomen, accompanied by something sickly yellow that was giving off that acrid smell.
‘Poison,’ surmised Raze.
‘One of Viktor’s concoctions,’ said Lucian fretfully. ‘His own daughter…’
Raze looked grave. ‘I’m sorry, Lucian.’
‘No.’ Lucian shook his head, refusing to accept this reality. ‘No!’
He seized Sonja’s satchel and, abandoning propriety, rootled frantically around inside searching for he hardly knew what.
‘There is no time, Lucian,’ said Raze, his deep voice gentle. ‘It will take too long to find an antidote. By then it will be too late for her.’
‘I will not lose her. Not now. Now when we are this close.’
Lucian tipped the entire contents of the satchel onto the ground – a crust of bread, bottled ox blood, a dagger, some jewellery (presumably in preparation for their life beyond her father’s reach) and –
A small phial with a note tied to it.
It was addressed to him: Lycan.
Lucian supposed he was the likely “Lycan” to whom it may concern.
He unrolled it.
“If everything goes… unfortunately for the Lady Sonja, please accept this antidote as goodwill. Poor price for a seat on the council, and Viktor’s former daughter never liked me. But I liked her. Sometimes. Consider this my last favour before the war. Good luck to us both – Tannis.”
Lucian ripped the stopper off the phial and brought it to Sonja’s lips. ‘Here,’ he whispered. ‘Drink, Sonja. It will save you.’
But Sonja’s head thrashed from side to side, trapped in the thralls of fever. Lucian reached out and stroked her cool cheek. His warm touch seemed to sooth her.
‘Sonja, it’s me. It’s Lucian. I am here. All will be well, my love. But the only way you are going to get better is if you take this antidote. So, I need you to swallow it. Can you do that for me?’
Sonja’s lips parted slightly, and Lucian took his cue. He brought the bottle to her lips and tipped the contents into her mouth, carefully closing her bottom lip with his finger.
‘Swallow, Sonja.’
Sonja’s brow furrowed, as though the action required to ingest Tannis’ brew required great effort and grit if it tasted as bad as it smelled. But then Lucian saw the unmistakable sign of something going down her gullet before she coughed.
‘That’s it, that’s it,’ Lucian praised happily, kissing her clammy forehead.
‘L’cian…’ she murmured. Her beautiful blue eyes opened and looked into his own. ‘Lucian…’
‘I am here,’ Lucian assured her, smiling, stroking her hair. ‘We are together now. Always and forever.’
Raze took his leave to give these star-crossed lovers some privacy.
‘Lucian…’ Sonja insisted weakly. But whatever was in Tannis’ tonic seemed to have a soporific side effect to induce sleep to help the healing process. She was struggling to stay awake.
‘What is it?’ asked Lucian. It must be important that it could not wait until she’d recovered.
Sonja’s lips were pressed together, hindering on the first letter of the word she was trying to tell him. Lucian leaned in closer. Sonja took his hand and pressed it to her abdomen.
‘Pregnant…’ she managed to utter.
Milliseconds of consciousness left afforded Sonja an equal milliseconds of emotions to shift in Lucian’s expression in quick succession: confusion (who was –), shock (we’re with child?), wonder (I’m to be a father?), and finally a look that clearly said, ‘I didn’t think it was possible to love you more,’ before Sonja’s eyes slid shut, a peaceful smile on her face.
Hand still on her stomach, Lucian now focused his attention beneath the surface. How far along was she? Would he even feel it? What if Viktor’s arrow had found its mark? A double bullseye – though he did not know it yet.
Then Lucian felt it… He felt the shift of life growing beneath his palm and heard the thumping of a small but mighty heartbeat... He felt the future.
Lucian smiled widely. The first of his line. A union of the bloodlines. Half Vampire, half Lycan. Their little miracle.