The morning came gently, casting a soft, golden glow over the farmhouse.
Evryn walked into Auren in the garden, a playful smirk on her face as she dumped a large, woven wicker basket right into his hands.
“Let’s go,” she added.
“We need some ingredients for the kitchen, and it’s about time you learn how a marketplace actually runs.”
A short while later, they stepped into the heart of the market.
It was alive with noise and color.
Stalls lined both sides of the wide stone street.
Fabrics hung in bright layers, spices filled the air with strong scents, and vendors called out prices in loud voices.
People moved constantly, brushing shoulders, bargaining, laughing.
It was crowded but lively, a vibrant contrast to the suffocating silence of the palace.
Evryn walked ahead with a list in her hand, reading it carefully.
Auren followed one step behind her, carrying the basket she had given him.
Each time she stopped at a stall, she added something new to his arms.
Fruits.
Grain sacks.
Cloth bundles.
Small jars of oil.
She did not slow.
He did not complain.
Anyone who looked at them would see a lady walking confidently with her servant behind her.
Evryn had arranged it that way without speaking about it.
She carried nothing.
He carried everything.
The weight meant nothing to him.
His arms were full, but his posture did not change.
His breathing remained steady.
The strain that would bend another servant did not touch him.
Evryn noticed.
She glanced at his hands once, then again.
He held too much for comfort, yet he showed no sign of struggle.
“Take these to the carriage,” she said finally.
“Then return.”
“I can continue walking with you,” he replied.
The words were calm, but beneath them was something else.
He did not want to leave her.
Even standing a few steps behind her, he could feel the spell resting quietly in his chest.
The idea of distance unsettled him more than the weight in his arms.
“You will drop something,” she said firmly.
“Go.
I will wait here.”
She did not argue longer.
He studied her face briefly, then turned toward the deeper end of the market where the carriage waited.
With every step away from her, a faint pressure began tightening inside his chest.
It was not sharp yet, but it was there.
Evryn remained near the fabric stalls, her fingers lightly brushing over a scarf of soft blue.
As she moved around the display, her eyes caught a movement that made her blood run cold.
A young girl was pinned against a wooden post.
Behind her, a man twice her size leaned in, his hand hovering near her waist in a way that made the girl’s face go pale with terror.
Evryn didn’t think.
She moved.
She stepped between them abruptly, pretending to be an interested shopper.
“How much for this one?” she asked the seller, her voice loud and clear.
The girl seized the chance.
The man’s face twisted into a snarl when he realized his prize was gone.
Evryn didn’t wait for him to speak.
She shoved his chest lightly.
“Find someone your own size,” she said, her voice like a whip.
Nearby, the bustling market began to slow as people watched the tension rise.
The man’s hand shot out, his fingers digging into Evryn’s wrist.
He jerked her close, his breath smelling of stale ale.
“You could be in her place,” he growled, his eyes dark with a nasty light.
Evryn didn’t hesitate.
Her free hand grabbed a glass bottle from a nearby table and smashed it across the side of his head.
CRACK.
The sound was sharp and final.
The man staggered back, a thin line of blood blooming at his hairline.
For a heartbeat, Evryn was shocked by her own violence.
But she didn’t have time to process it.
With a roar of rage, the man lunged.
His palm struck her across the face with enough force to send her spinning to the ground.
The crowd didn’t help; they only stepped back to stay out of the splash zone.
Before she could crawl away, he was over her, striking again.
Evryn curled into a ball, her arms shielding her head, her breath coming in panicked gasps.
Through the noise and the distance, Auren felt it.
The pain exploded in his chest.
It wasn’t a warning this time; it was a violent, white-hot command.
Protect.
He saw her.
On the ground.
Bleeding.
Something inside the King of Vampires finally snapped.
He moved like a shadow caught in a storm…too fast for human eyes to track.
One step.
One strike.
His boot slammed into the man’s ribs.
The force was enough to lift the brute off the ground and send him flying backward.
The man hit a stone wall with a sickening thud and crumpled into a heap, motionless.
The market went deathly silent.
Auren didn’t care about the man.
He dropped to his knees beside Evryn, his hands trembling as he reached for her.
Her eyes were glazed with pain, a small cut on her brow dripping red onto the stones.
The pressure in his chest burned with a murderous heat.
He wanted to stand back up and tear the man apart.
He wanted to paint the stones with him.
Then, a small, weak hand caught his arm.
“Let’s go back,” she whispered.
Her voice was barely a breath, but it was enough to stop him.
Auren swallowed the cold rage.
He carefully slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her as if she were made of glass.
She felt lighter than she should, her head resting against his shoulder.
He didn’t look at the crowd.
He didn’t look at the man.
He simply turned and walked toward the carriage, his grip firm and possessive, the spell in his chest finally beginning to settle into a low, protective hum.
Inside, he sat and placed her gently on his lap.
One arm supported her back while the other brushed hair away from her face.
When the carriage began to move, Auren held her more carefully.
Her breathing was steady, the market noise fading into the distance.
The pain inside his chest did not disappear.
It tightened. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
He had felt the spell react before when he walked too far from her, but this was different.
This was sharper.
It was not distance; it was danger.
She had been hurt, and he had not reached her fast enough.
His jaw tightened as he brushed his thumb gently over the cut near her eyebrow.
He wiped the blood carefully, his movements controlled despite the storm of rage beneath the surface.
She shifted slightly, her fingers gripping weakly at his shirt.
He felt her warmth and the steady rhythm of her heart.
This was the first time she had been hurt, and he had failed to stop it.
He lowered his hand and looked at the faint stain of her blood on his thumb.
Without thinking, he brought it to his lips.
The taste was warm, but it did not awaken hunger.
It awakened awareness.
Her scent filled his senses in the small carriage.
When they finally arrived at the estate, Auren did not move at once.
He looked down at her pale face.
“Evryn…
wake up.
We’re here,” he whispered.
“Can you stand?”
She did not answer.
She had fallen deep into sleep from exhaustion, pain, and the strange safety of his hold.
Auren let out a slow breath.
He had no choice.
He slid his arms beneath her and lifted her easily.
Her body rested against him, limp and quiet.
He hated how natural it felt to carry her like this.
The moment he stepped into the farm grounds, Brinna saw them.
She hurried forward with two maids, her face full of alarm.
“Evryn!” she shouted.
“What happened?
Why is she like this?”
Brinna moved closer, but before she could reach them, Ray appeared.
He came fast, his eyes going straight to Evryn.
Then his gaze lifted and met Auren’s.
“I’ll take her,” Ray said, stepping forward.
Auren did not move.
For one short, dangerous second, his hold on her tightened instead.
he didn’t want to let her go, especially not to him.
Ray’s expression darkened.
“Give her to me.
Now.”
Auren’s eyes narrowed slightly, but in the end, he stepped forward and transferred Evryn into Ray’s arms with careful control.
The moment her weight left him, something sharp and unpleasant twisted in his chest.
Ray turned at once and carried her toward the house while Brinna and the maids followed in worry.
Auren stayed where he was.
His hands felt strangely empty.
He dragged one hand roughly over his face, then muttered to himself with cold disgust, “What are you doing?”
His gaze remained fixed on the doorway where she had disappeared.
“Remember your place.
Remember your duty.” he said under his breath.
Then his jaw hardened even more.
“Get control of yourself, fool.”