Page 11 of Vampire Solstice
For a moment, the cave fades away, the cold and the darkness forgotten. It’s just us, the rhythm of our breathing, the quiet reassurance of his presence.
His lips brush against mine, soft and tentative at first, but the kiss deepens, a slow burn that steadies the chaos inside me. My free hand finds the back of his neck, his fingers tightening around mine as we lose ourselves in each other.
When we finally pull away, our foreheads remain pressed together, our breaths mingling in the cold air.
“I’ve missed this,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Me too,” he replies, his voice raw with honesty.
The moment feels sacred, like something we’ve stolen back from the relentless demands of our lives. But it’s interrupted by the faint sound of claws clattering against stone.
We both freeze, our gazes snapping toward the source of the noise.
Fen draws his sword in one fluid motion, stepping protectively in front of me as we move cautiously toward the sound. The cave widens into a small chamber.
We both freeze, looking around. The beast isn’t here, and the sound we heard is gone.
“Is this where it lives?” I ask. I take a step forward but Fen holds my arm, stopping me.
“Look,” he says, pointing.
There are chains attached to the stone walls, with cuffs at the end. Four of them.
Dried blood stains the ground..
There are bones piled high on one side of the cavern, and a makeshift sleeping mat on the other.
On top the sleeping mat is a single red ribbon, one edge ripped and fraying.
The realization hits like a blow, the warmth of our moment together replaced by a cold sense of betrayal.
“Does that ribbon remind you of something?” I ask, my voice trembling.
“It does,” Fen says, thinking the same thing.
“Why would the other half of Myra’s ribbon be in the den of the beast?”
“I don’t know,”” he says, his voice low, “but we’re going to find out.”
Chapter 5
The Beast
We follow the path we believe the beast took, traveling deeper into the labyrinth of tunnels.
A low growl echoes through the cave, reverberating in my chest. It’s primal, deep, and getting close. The oppressive silence that follows is somehow worse, pressing down on us as we strain to hear what might come next.
Fen moves forward with deliberate precision, his sword glinting faintly in the dim light filtering from above. His every step is calculated, his posture taut and ready. I flex my fingers, magic sizzling at my fingertips, my breath fogging the cold air as I follow.
The growl comes again, this time from another direction. My pulse quickens. Whatever it is, it’s circling us. The sound of the beast echoes through the tunnels, making it difficult to identify a direction.
“Stay close,” Fen murmurs, his eyes scanning the shadows.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I reply, though my voice feels too loud in the suffocating stillness.
The faint light from above casts long, twisting shadows across the uneven walls, and for a moment, I think I see movement—a flicker of something darker than the gloom.The growl grows louder, resonating like the low rumble of distant thunder, and the shadows shift again.
“Fen,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.