Married To Darkness

Salviana pulled the silver whistle from her collar, lifted it to her lips, and blew a sharp, double-blast that cut through the silent woods.

That was how it was done. The royals hunted, but the heavy lifting was left to the cartwheel crew—the castle porters who tracked the horn signals and whistle blasts to retrieve and haul the game back to the palace kitchens.

Within minutes, the distant rattling of heavy wooden wheels and the clatter of iron-rimmed spokes echoed down the winding dirt path. Two burly castle porters emerged from the thicket, leading a stout draft horse hitched to a flatbed cart. They immediately dropped to one knee upon seeing the Prince and his lady.

"Your Highness. My Lady," the lead porter said respectfully, quickly standing to assess the kill. His eyes widened slightly at the sheer size of the boar. "A fine beast. We’ll have it bound and loaded straight away."

Alaric stepped back, wiping his hunting blade clean with a cloth before sheathing it at his side. He kept one hand resting lightly on the small of Salviana’s back, his thumb rubbing small, reassuring circles through the fabric of her gown, though his eyes never stopped scanning the high tree line above them.

As the men hauled the massive boar onto the wooden cart, securing it with thick hemp ropes, Salviana watched them with a guarded expression. Every rustle of the leaves made her blood run cold.

"It will be at the butcher’s before noon, My Lord," the second porter called out, gathering the reins to turn the cart back toward the main trail.

Salviana gave a stiff nod of approval. The boar was taken care of, but as the sound of the creaking cartwheels faded into the distance, the forest swallowed them in silence once more. She turned to Alaric, her grip tightening on his arm as she leaned in close.

"Lucius hasn’t signaled yet," she murmured, her green eyes searching the shadows where the path split deeper into the Southern Wilds. "What do we do now?"

"I guess everything is good then," Alaric said, his voice quiet as he tried to soothe the lingering tension in her shoulders.

But the words had barely left his lips when the air turned violently frigid.

A dense, unnatural shadow swirled past them like a sudden, suffocating tide, swallowing the dappled morning light in a heartbeat. The forest vanished into absolute, suffocating darkness.

Salviana let out a loud screech, the sheer terror of her nightmare rushing back to drown her senses. She immediately crouched to the damp earth, burying her face in her hands and covering her eyes as cold wind whipped through her hair.

Alaric’s eyes instantly narrowed, his crimson vampire sight cutting through the artificial gloom. Every sense in his body slammed into hypervigilance. He drew his sword with a sharp, metallic ring just as a sickening swish tore through the air right beside him.

The creature moved with terrifying, jagged speed—it looked human in shape, but its movements were grotesquely unnatural, its body skeletal and warped. Luckily, Alaric was a vampire. To a mortal, the creature was a blur of violence; to Alaric, its movements were as readable as a map.

With a fluid twist, Alaric parried a clawed strike. Metal bit into bone. Steel slashed through the air with violent precision, and the sharp, wet sound of clashing swords and guttural screeches filled the pitch-black woods. Alaric sliced clean through the stomach of one of the bony creatures that had appeared, sending dark, foul ichor spraying onto the fallen leaves. He pivoted instantly, his blade a blur of fatal strikes as he fought off the surrounding shadows, shielding the space directly above his wife.

Salviana stayed tightly crouched on the ground, her hands clamped over her head, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs as the terrifying sounds of flesh tearing and swords swinging echoed around her.

Then, out of the dark, a cold, deathly grip slammed around her arm.

Salviana gasped as she was violently yanked backward, sharp, unnatural fingers digging into her skin, pulling her away from Alaric’s side and deeper into the swirling darkness.

"Ha!" Salviana gasped, scrambling to her feet as the creature stumbled back from the blow.

She turned to sprint toward the sound of Alaric’s clashing steel, but before she could take two full strides, a razor-sharp claw swiped viciously across her ankle. The sudden, burning tear sent her crashing down hard onto the slick damp leaves.

Her jaw slammed squarely against the exposed root of an ancient tree. Pain exploded through her face, bright and blinding, making her vision swim with white sparks. The taste of copper filled her mouth, and for a terrifying second, the breath was knocked completely out of her lungs.

Through the ringing in her ears, she heard the creature’s wet, ragged breathing right behind her as it lunged to reclaim its prey.

Suddenly, a streak of cold steel flashed through the darkness.

With a brutal, heavy crunch, a massive blade split the creature from its shoulder down to its ribs. The bone monster let out a final, gurgling screech before collapsing into a heap of lifeless ash and bone.

Standing over the creature was Lucius, his heavy black umbrella discarded on the forest floor, his combat blade dripping with dark ichor. His eyes were cold and focused as he extended a gloved hand toward her.

"My Lady! Can you stand?"

Before she could answer, a roar of pure, predatory rage ripped through the shadows. Alaric broke through the remaining horde, his sword completely slick with dark blood, his crimson eyes burning like embers in the artificial night. He didn’t even look at the dead creatures; his gaze locked onto Salviana’s bleeding chin and torn ankle.

"Salviana!" he growled, dropping to one knee beside her and gathering her small, trembling frame into his arms. His touch was instantly gentle despite the absolute fury radiating from his body. "Lucius—guard the perimeter!"

"Already on it, My Lord," Lucius replied, stepping into a defensive stance, his sharp eyes cutting through the swirling darkness.

Alaric cupped her jaw, his thumbs carefully wiping the blood from her chin as his heart hammered against his chest. "I have you. I’m here," he whispered frantically, his lips pressing to her forehead. "Look at me, my love. I’m here."