“I won’t stay here long,” she said, looking away toward the path where Ray often waited.
“I will stop working after I am married.”
Auren’s gaze became intense, his silver eyes locking onto hers with a chilling certainty.
“I do not think so.”
Evryn stopped, her breath catching at the cold confidence in his tone.
“What do you mean?”
From across the courtyard, Ray watched.
He could see Auren’s growing interest in Evryn clear as day.
Ray was a man, and he had noticed the undeniable shift in how Auren’s eyes changed from his very first day toward her.
The sheer hostility and arrogance had warped into something entirely different…something sharper, darker, and far too focused.
Ray stepped forward.
Evryn sensed him and immediately moved a step away from Auren, creating space that had not existed seconds before.
She picked up a basket and excused herself without looking at either of them.
Ray stopped in front of Auren, his posture rigid and his eyes burning with a quiet, defensive fury.
“Stay away from her,” Ray said, his voice dropping to a low, territorial warning.
“She will be my wife.
Go find yourself another place to work.”
Auren didn’t flinch.
Instead, a slow, incredibly mocking smile spread across his face as he tilted his head, studying the man with a terrifying calmness.
“What are you so scared of?” Auren murmured, his silver eyes gleaming with dangerous amusement.
“Scared she could throw your ring right back into your face for me?”
Ray let out a forced, harsh laugh, trying to shake off the provocation.
“I trust her.
She is loyal to me.
Don’t let a few of her smiles make your thoughts daze, servant.”
“Is that so?” Auren’s smile sharped into something cold and cutting.
“Then why aren’t you more like her?
That is strange…
how you speak so highly of loyalty, yet you are the one playing around behind her back.”
Ray’s face drained of color before turning a dark, furious red.
He stepped up, his fist clenching tightly at his side as he hissed, “Keep your damn distance from her.”
Auren’s smile was faint now, controlled.
“Trust me,” he said calmly, stepping closer just enough to lower his voice, “I cannot stay away from her, even if I want to.”
Ray’s jaw tightened, rage burning in his eyes.
Auren stepped past him without another glance and walked toward the garden, leaving Ray standing alone with jealousy twisting in his chest.
Ray had not chosen Evryn because he burned for her, but because she was perfect.
She believed in love.
She believed in loyalty…
She guarded herself carefully.
At first, he admired that.
Then he claimed it in his mind.
Ray had always viewed Evryn as a checklist of “rights.” the right choice to keep his life stable.
But seeing her with Auren had turned that stability into a bitter competition.
Ray didn’t just want Evryn anymore; he wanted to win.
He hated the way Auren existed…so calm, so powerful.
Brinna clapped her hands together sharply, her voice cutting through the noise.
“Focus, ladies and gentlemen!
The house is attending a ceremony.
Evryn, I don’t want to see anyone doing nothing!”
Evryn was already in motion, stepping quickly toward the hearth to lift a massive pot of boiling, white-hot water.
Before her fingers could even touch the metal, a heavy shadow loomed over her.
Auren intercepted her hand, his grip firm.
“What do you think you are doing?” he demanded, his voice low but sharp against the kitchen din.
“Give that to me before you burn your hand.”
Evryn didn’t argue.
“I won’t say no to that.
Take it.”
She handed the scalding weight over to him.
Auren lifted it with effortless ease, carrying it across the frantic kitchen to place it safely on a nearby prep table.
Evryn followed close behind him to direct the next station…but as they moved, the rhythm of the room shattered.
Time seemed to slow for Auren.
His sharp silver eyes immediately locked onto a clumsy servant nearby who had completely lost his footing.
The man was flailing violently to regain his balance, his erratic lurch sending him crashing right into a secondary vat of bubbling, boiling water.
Auren’s gaze tracked the trajectory in a fraction of a second: the white-hot torrent was heading directly toward Evryn.
Auren didn’t hesitate.
He didn’t even breathe.
He lunged, spinning Evryn into his chest and shielding her with his own body.
The boiling wave crashed over his shoulders.
The fabric of his shirt hissed as the water soaked through, and other servants screamed as the spray caught their arms.
He didn’t even flinch.
He only tightened his arms around her, pulling her so close she could hear the thud of his heart.
The pain was a sharp, white flash before his immortal blood began to knit his skin back together.
He pulled back just an inch, his hands gripping her shoulders, his eyes searching hers with a desperate intensity.
“Are you burned?” he demanded, his voice low and ragged.
She shook her head, her eyes wide with shock.
“No.”
“Are you sure?” He scanned her face, her neck, her hands, looking for even a single red mark.
“Evryn, look at me.
Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine!” she insisted, her voice trembling with a sudden, sharp anger.
“You…
you idiot, it hit you.
You’re the one who’s burned!”
Even though she kept insisting that she wasn’t hurt, the pain in Auren’s chest refused to fade.
The spell in his chest didn’t just hum; it throbbed with a persistent, heavy ache.
He didn’t care about his own flesh.
What truly hurt…what cut deeper than the boiling water currently blistering his skin…was looking up and seeing the raw distress in her face.
He was the one covered in burns, yet she was the one looking completely shattered, her hazel eyes filled with an agonizing worry for him.
She cared that much and seeing her carry the weight of his pain was a far worse torment than any fire could ever inflict on his body.
Brinna and Ray rushed over, their voices a blur of “Are you okay?” and “Move out of the way.”
Auren stepped back, the mask of the cold servant sliding back into place.
Without a word, he turned and walked out.
In the quiet of the servants’ quarters, Auren pulled off his ruined shirt.
His back was smooth, the skin pale and perfect, as if the water had been nothing more than a summer rain, but his chest felt heavy.
So, Auren, he thought, this is the trap.
You cannot let her be hurt…not even in her heart.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
The door creaked open, and Evryn stepped in, she was holding a wooden bowl filled with a sticky mixture of herbs, oil, and honey…
She stopped dead when she saw him.
Auren stood by the bed, shirtless and damp from the steam.
In the dim light, He looked like a man carved from marble…broad shoulders, powerful muscles, scars that made him only more dangerous and beautiful, his presence that made the small room feel like it was shrinking.
Her breath hitched as she forced her gaze up to his face.
“I brought treatment,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.
Auren stepped toward her, the distance between them vanishing.
He looked down at the herbal paste in the bowl, then back into her eyes.
“I am fine, Evryn,” he said smoothly.
“You are not, damn it, Auren!” she snapped, her anxiety finally boiling over into anger.
“Why did you even do that?
No one in their right mind would throw themselves into danger the way you just did!”
She let out a heavy, frustrated sigh, setting the bowl down with a loud thud.
“Just…
turn around.
Let me see your back.”
Auren smirked but complied, turning his back to her, she froze.
Her jaw practically dropped.
His skin was entirely flawless.
Smooth, toned, and completely unblemished.
What the hell…?
“Where are the burns?” she demanded, blinking rapidly.
“Are all vampires like this?” She shook her head in disbelief, her eyes betraying her as they lingered just a second too long on the sharp contours of his shoulder blades in the dim light of the room.
“No…
no, I don’t think so.
That was boiling water!”
Unable to believe her own eyes, Evryn leaned closer and extended a hesitant hand.
She picked at his back with her index finger, giving his skin a firm poke to see if it was actually real, or if her mind was playing tricks on her.
“Ouch!” Auren suddenly hissed, his broad shoulders flinching.
Evryn froze instantly, her heart leaping into her throat.
“Oh my god!
Sorry, sorry!
Did I actually hurt you?”
For a second, she looked entirely panicked…
until a low rumble started in his chest, and Auren just chuckled softly.
He turned around, his silver eyes crinkling with absolute, unadulterated amusement at her expression.
Evryn’s panic evaporated, replaced by immediate, burning fury.
“Damn you!” she shrieked, slamming her open hand flat against his shoulder back with a loud smack.
“You scared the hell out of me!”
Auren gives her a wicked, amused glint in his silver eyes as he looked down at her stunned expression.
“Well, even if I healed…
let’s not waste the treatment.
Evryn snapped out of her daze, her face immediately flushing crimson.
“Of course not!
I was planning to send someone to do it.”
Auren’s smirk instantly vanished, replaced by a look of sheer, comedic disgust.
“Are you joking with me?
I just saved your life.”
“I didn’t ask you to do it!” she countered, crossing her arms defensively.
Auren tsked, shaking his head with a look of mock injury.
“You know, you are incredibly rude and mean to a man who just took a vat of boiling water for you.”
“And you are apparently a massive pervert who just wants my hands on his skin!” she shot right back, her face flushing as she pointed a finger at his bare chest.
“Can you blame me?” Auren teased, leaning in just a fraction closer, enjoying the way her temper flared.
Evryn let out another long sigh, truly realizing how close she had come to being severely hurt.
Her voice softened, genuine and a little breathless.
“Auren…
I really don’t know what to say or what to do with you.
But thank you.
Again.”
Auren’s gaze dropped to her lips, a playful, dangerous smile touching his mouth.
“You could always give me what I really want.”
Evryn’s eyes widened, and she grabbed the nearest cloth, shoving it squarely into his chest.
“Stop it, idiot!”
and she head it toward the door and closed behind her.
Auren stood in the silence, looking at his own hands.
He replayed the moment the water fell.
The way his body moved before he could even process the danger.
Was it the spell?
Or was it him?
He closed his eyes.
He realized, with a sinking feeling, that he no longer knew the difference.
Every corner of the house carried movement.
The kitchens were crowded with baskets, trays, sacks of flour, fresh herbs, candles, and voices that never seemed to rest.
Maids hurried from room to room.
Cooks argued over spices and portions.
Servants climbed stairs with cloth and flowers in their arms.
Evryn sat at one of the long kitchen tables with several lists spread before her, writing down what the kitchens still needed.
Auren sat beside her in quiet silence, helping when she asked, moving things without waste, and watching her more often than he let himself admit.
“Who taught you how to read and write?” Auren asked quietly, breaking the silence.
“My father,” she replied, her quill scratching lightly against the paper.
“What about your mother?”
“She died when she gave birth to me.”
Auren paused, his silver eyes softening slightly.
“Mmm.
I am sorry for that.”
“It’s okay,” Evryn murmured, her tone practiced and detached from a lifetime of carrying the fact.
“So, where is your father now?”
“Dead.”
Auren closed his eyes and literally slammed his forehead down onto the wooden table with a dull, heavy thud.
“I am sorry.
Again.”
A small, genuine smile tugged at Evryn’s lips.
Even though she didn’t look up from her paperwork to meet his eyes, she kept answering him as her quill flew across the page.
“What about siblings?” Auren asked, his voice a little muffled against the wood before he lifted his head.
“None.
I’m lonely,” she said softly, though there was a light, teasing edge to her voice to keep it from getting too heavy.
“I have no one…
except Ray and Brinna.”
“And me,” Auren added smoothly.
Evryn burst out laughing, finally pausing her writing to look at him.
“Mmm, yes.
And you.
I wouldn’t want to make you sad…even though I’ve never actually seen your sad face yet.
You’re far too happy here.”
“Am I?”
“You never stop smiling,” she countered, pointing the tip of her quill at him.
“Especially when you’re giving me a hard time.
Do you actually enjoy torturing me?”
Auren’s smile widened, flashing a glimpse of his usual dangerous charm.
“Yes, I think so, besides I am smiling when I am beside you, only you.”
“Don’t start, you Evil man,” she muttered playfully, turning back to her lists.