FayeIt’s raining. I watch a raindrop roll down the window, absorbing its companions. The rest of the world is a dark blur as I press my fingertips to the window, finding the glass cold. Someone touches my thigh in the darkness, murmuring something under their breath. Soon, the world comes into view
MichaelIt’s the middle of the night when I walk up to my doorstep. Thunder rumbles in the distance, but Ravenfell is foggy, cool, and only slightly damp tonight. I open the door to quiet darkness. A light switches on upstairs, illuminating the second floor landing as I step into the foyer, holding
Faye“Wait,” I beg, scooching across wet grass, my palms broken and bruised from the gravel on the road. “Why? Why are you doing this?”Another blow to my chest has me curling into the fetal position. Rain pelts my face–sharp, and cold. The dress my mother spent weeks perfecting is torn from my body
FayePrince Michael sits on the side of the bed. I edge closer, holding his gaze like I’m in a trance. I can hear his heart thumping even from this distance. I can hear his blood rushing in his veins. His scent is warm and overwhelmingly comforting, adding to the dizzy feeling cascading over my body
MichaelEmelda silently returns to the kitchen with her tray of tonics and potions and sets them on the counter, wordlessly scribbling doses in the black leather notebook she’s been carrying around in her pocket since the night I met the witch-turned-vampire seven years ago. I lean against the coun
I whirl and sink against the door, fuming, holding my face in my hands while I listen to Emelda’s voice drop to something soft and gentle while the nameless girl moans as if she’s in pain. The girl starts sobbing, begging Emelda for help, and it’s my undoing. Emelda is right. Whatever this tugging
MichaelI carefully pluck Matilda’s cold fingers from my shirt. “Where’s your fiance?”“Hell if I know,” she replies smoothly, her full lips curving at the edges. “Not around, obviously. He’s keeping his distance.”I want to say that I don’t blame him. Something about her makes me want to crawl out
FayeI’m sitting against plush pillows feeling like myself again, whoever that is. My memories are still hazy, but I’m starting to remember key things. My name is Faye. I’m twenty. I like to read, draw, and play the piano. I’m actually very good at playing piano. I like the color pink, even though i
Michael“The second born son of this union will be handed over at birth to King Mattias and his court to be raised in Red River as the rightful heir to the throne,” Dad reads aloud as he paces in front of the windows in his office that overlook the bleak, snow drenched landscape beyond, “to ensure t
MichaelThe emissary to Red River–the real one–isn’t anyone I recognize. He’s tall and pale blond, his red eyes gleaming in the brightly lit ballroom where he and his posse of royal Red River guards have gathered. He scans the group before him–myself, my father, and my uncle, and smiles faintly, hi
I listen intently, watching a myriad of emotion play over her face as she knits her fingers together. “We spent an entire summer sneaking around,” she says softly, closing her eyes. “He’d find me in the garden, in the library, sometimes going as far as to sneak into my room at night. We couldn’t st
FayeStill in the library, I listen intently as Emelda discloses far more than I expected her to.There was a point in Emelda’s life as a vampire that she’d accepted she’d always be alone. Her bed would always be cold, her skin unblemished by a loving touch. She’d never know love again, and for deca
Faye“It really is gorgeous,” Emelda says the next morning while walking with me to the library. She runs her thumb over the massive sapphire ring and smiles faintly, raising her brows. “I think it’s a family heirloom, too. You should expect a load of fine jewelry to follow.”“You know I don’t care
FayeKing Kane is a slightly terrifying man. His presence is all consuming–like he sucks the light out of the room. He doesn’t look his age, like all vampires. The only indication that he’s a senior vampire compared to his son is the faint gray glow around his temples where his dark hair is starting
MichaelI watch Faye run a comb through her hair, over and over. The golden strands shine like golden silk in the pockets of sunlight shimmering through the curtains. Beyond the glass, knee-deep snow covers the castle grounds in a blanket of pure, untouched white. Deep inside, I feel a flicker of m
I shake my head, sniffling, trying to pull my tears back into my eyes but fail miserably. They trickle down my cheeks, freezing to my face. “We would have been caught.”“I wouldn’t have cared. I still don’t!”“You were getting married–”“I’ve been betrothed since I was a child,” he says hotly, gritt
Emelda“Why are you out here?” Cole asks, his hand moving up my back as he presses me closer. “You’re freezing.”“I wanted to check on Ravenfell–”“I was on my way–”“It’s not your responsibility–”“I was on my way to find you,” he cuts in, taking a breath. I open my eyes, breaking out of the haze