Page 4 of Feral Born

When he released her, she was trembling like a leaf, arms around her stomach. “Please,” she pleaded.

Irving’s arms splayed wide, his frustration thick in the air. “See? It didn’t work!”

I shooed him out of the way and pulled the woman close by the collar of her dress. Catching her gaze, I watched her pupils shrink and jaw slacken. “You will leave this place and forget everything you’ve seen. You drank too much and partied too hard. You will sleep it off for a day then return to life as normal.”

I released her, and she stood there with a dazed look on her face before turning to walk down the long path.

Once upon a time, much of my family resided here, but as the years rolled by, the Nygaards ebbed away. I wouldn’t say I was lonely, but gods I was fucking bored most of the time. Nygaard Manor was in Blucrux Valley, situated just outside of the main city of Aethermore. Though we considered ourselves still part of the capital, we were almost as ostracized as the lycans beyond the city limits. It was for the best, though. Historically, the wolf shifters had caused more harm to humans than vampires had.

They were an ill-tempered group with feral tendencies, and though I didn’t deal with them often, my mother did.

I turned to find my mother standing at the door, her arms crossed over her chest. When I made eye contact with her, she began to clap insincerely. I rolled my eyes.

“I hope you had fun tonight,” she said. “Because I leave again tomorrow night, and there is a meeting with the Ministry the next day.”

Irving remained outside. I glanced back, urging him with just a look, but he subtly shook his head. Bellatrix’s reputation preceded her, so his fear was valid.

Not all Primal Born vampires had magic, but my mother was born with the ability to manipulate the actions of others—stronger than the usual compulsion—while I possessed an affinity for the alchemical arts. I’d created the golden snake cuff around my left ear to block her powers years ago, but her increasing strength knew no bounds. Sometimes her powers pushed right through the protection.

“You will be expected to represent Blucrux Valley in my stead,” said Bellatrix.

My gaze snapped back to her. “What?”

“Assuming you’ve kept up to date with current events, and you haven’t forgotten your etiquette, you should be fine. I guess you can be considered presentable.” Her gaze raked over me from head to toe.

It had been a while since I attended a Ministry meeting, either with her or in her place.

“Let’s hope they don’t get word of this little ... debacle from tonight. You look like you could use some rest, darling. Sweet dreams.”

With that, she was gone in a flash, leaving me standing in front of the door, my fists clenched and shaking.

“I ... can tell you want time to yourself,” said Irving, knowing it was best to keep out of my way. “Good night.”

Though Irving had vampiric speed, he typically preferred to walk at a leisurely pace everywhere. Tonight, though, he zipped away to his room. I suppose my temper preceded me as well.

The moment I stepped into my bedroom, I was overcome by a rush of dizziness. My vision momentarily wavered, causing my bed to blur against the black and purple wall, four posts doubling to eight. For a heartbeat, my consciousness slipped to the back of my mind, where something dangerous lurked in the dark.

I steadied myself against one of my bedposts and forced down a deep breath, then another. My thigh and arm throbbed from the memory of the pain which had been inflicted along with the awful disease that only one person in my life knew I battled.

I carefully removed my vomit-stained dress before marching over to the fireplace to fling it onto the logs. I drew an alchemical symbol on the stone with my finger and a flame roared to life, warming my naked form before I moved to the bathroom, removing the daylight ring from my finger to wash the blood off my hands.

By nature, all vampires were nightwalkers. Primal Borns wouldn’t die from exposure to sunlight, but the burns were excruciating and disfiguring. Most Primal Borns chose to wear alchemized rings that granted immunity to sunlight. Turned vampires, on the other hand, burst into flames in sunlight, and there was no coming back from that. Most Primal Born vampires had the wealth and the means to acquire the ring, while many Turned vampires were doomed to remain nightwalkers. I didn’t need the ring thanks to my lycan blood, but I wore it to reduce suspicion.

Returning to my bedroom, I sat on the carpet extending from beneath my bed, pulled a small leather case from my drawer, and marked it with another symbol. The latches popped open, revealing several prepared syringes nestled in luscious fabric, and I chose one before taking a deep breath and jabbing it into my thigh, right beneath my bite scar.

I returned the case to my side table and set the syringe aside, leaning against the side of the bed and closing my eyes. My leg always burned for a moment after I injected the draft, but I knew it was only temporary, and it was at least prolonging my life.

Once the pain subsided, I strutted to the balcony doors and yanked them open. The balmy summer air greeted my nude flesh as I strode toward the balustrade, the hills beyond washed in silvery moonlight. The University of the Arcane wasn’t far, its dark turrets and clock tower prominent even across the distance. It sat on the border between Blucrux Valley and Aethermore, where hills and large estates bled into cobblestoned streets lined by shops and residential buildings.

Sometimes I imagined moving into the university housing full time like some of the other professors. I wouldn’t have to deal with my mother, and it would be incredible to simply walk through the tunnels from the dormitories to the main building to get to work. Unfortunately, it was too risky with my affliction. Plus, I wasn’t sure how much time I had left without a cure.

With a sigh, I looked up at the waxing gibbous moon. “Shit,” I whispered into the night air.

I took a deep breath and returned to my room, shutting the balcony doors behind me. I filled a goblet from the tankard of blood on my vanity, then chased it with two refills of euphoria nectar. Our blood stock was from licensed vendors who worked with human donors. They were paid royally, and their donations were filtered for impurities and made imperishable through magical and alchemical means, then bottled and sold at a high price.

The drink was usually fast acting, but lately I’ve needed more and more to get the same high that was once immediate. Now it took three goblets just to calm my spirit and lessen the tension that seized my muscles.

I was used to pain—I ached endlessly.