Page 3 of Hunt Me

Shame washed over Luka as he thought about how Anastasia would feel about him laying with another. He felt unfaithful just merely considering committing such an atrocious act.

He staggered to his wardrobe, where Anastasia’s intricately designed garments proudly hung. After a century, he could not find it in him to part with them, but perhaps… it was time.

His fingers trailed the hand-woven material until they paused on Anastasia’s favorite sleeping gown. It was a sheer sleeveless knee-length gown that tied around her slim waist. Not only was it Anastasia’s favorite gown, but it was Luka’s favorite as well. He loved gathering her body in his arms, not knowing if his fingertips were caressing the delicate fabric or her supple skin. He especially enjoyed running his fingertips over her nipples. They would pebble against the material, practically begging for the warmth of his mouth.

Luka groaned and buried his nose into the fabric, tightly balled in his fists. If he tried hard enough, he could still catch her scent. Tears leaked from his eyes, and he found himself sinking to that place again, that desolate place his mind would wander, encouraging him to join his beloved in the afterlife.

Maybe… maybe this time, he would listen.

A few hours later, Luka jolted awake with a loud gasp. He found himself panting, dangerously close to hyperventilating. The dream he had was so vivid. Almost as if his queen was in the room right beside him. His cold fingers drifted to the spot on his face where she had caressed him in his dream.

“Ana? Ana? Where are you?” Luka frantically called out, rising to his feet. It took him a full minute to realize he was alone. Anastasia had spoken to him, making it clear it was time for him to let go. With a heavy but determined heart, he trudged toward the closet. A tear fell with each garment he removed.

Several hours later, Luka dragged two trunks filled with Anastasia’s personal effects into the courtyard. His heart constricted at the sight of flames that engulfed his precious treasures. He watched until the flames smoldered and eventually died out.

“Forgive me, my love,” he whispered, kissing the ruby around his neck.

He felt like an apparition as he floated down the familiar route to his bed chambers. He crawled into bed, clutching the sheer nightgown he couldn’t build the courage to destroy.

***

“Come in,” Luka called out, welcoming the frantic knocker into his study.

“My King,” Ezra said, greeting him with a short bow.

“What matters do you have with me?” Luka asked, absentmindedly reviewing documents about a shortage of willing blood donors. This would become an issue soon. Vampires could survive off their beloved’s blood; however, the unmated vampires relied on human blood for sustenance. Human donors received payment in exchange for blood, which had been practiced for centuries. They never experienced a blood shortage issue before.

Why now?

Luka quietly wondered if the blood shortage directly correlated with the rise in vampire deaths.

“I passed the grand ballroom, and I noticed Queen Anastasia’s portrait is missing. Is she perhaps being fitted for another frame?”

“No.”

“No?”

“You heard me correctly the first time.”

“Are you moving her portrait to your bed chambers?”

“No. Her portrait will be stored,” Luka said, clearing his throat as the weight of his decision settled over him. He would no longer pass through the ballroom and find her beautiful face waiting for him.

“May I ask why?”

“My new queen may not approve.”

“Your new queen? You will accept another?”

“I will… for the sake of the kingdom.”

“I’ll be quite honest with you. I did not expect you to follow through with our suggestion, and so swiftly.”

Luka sighed. “It is what Queen Anastasia would’ve wanted.”

“I wholeheartedly agree. When do you have a free moment to discuss how we should move forward?”

“We should have plenty of time during our trip to Moonshire.”