The night was darker than usual, the moon hidden behind thick clouds that seemed to suffocate the stars. The forest around us was eerily quiet, save for the crunch of leaves beneath our boots and the occasional snap of a branch. I kept my hand on my amulet, my knuckles white from gripping it too tightly, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching us from the shadows.
"You're going to wear that amulet down to a nub if you keep clenching it like that." Phoenix muttered, his voice calm.
I shot him a glare, though I doubted he noticed in the darkness. "Better than letting my guard down. Not all of us have supernatural senses to sniff out danger."
Phoenix chuckled softly, a low, almost melodic sound that grated on my nerves. "If there was something out there, don't you think I would've dealt with it by now?"
"Maybe I just don't trust you to care enough to warn me." I shot back, quick and sharp.
Phoenix came to a sudden stop, forcing me to do the same. He turned toward me, his tall frame casting an imposing silhouette against the faint glow of the distant tavern lights. "If I didn't care, Jane, you wouldn't still be alive."
That shut me up. For a moment, at least.
The tension hung between us, thick and unspoken, until he turned and started walking again, his boots crunching over the leaves with deliberate slowness. I hated how unbothered he looked, how he always managed to get the last word in without even trying.
We emerged from the forest a few minutes later, the lights of the tavern flickering like a beacon in the distance. It wasn't much-a ramshackle building with a sloping roof, the faint hum of voices and music spilling out through the cracked windows-but it was a welcome sight. My legs were sore from walking, my stomach growling in protest, and the idea of a warm meal and a stiff drink was enough to momentarily dull the edge of my irritation.
"We're stopping here?" I asked, glancing at Phoenix as we approached.
He nodded, his gaze fixed on the tavern like he was sizing it up. "I need to feed, and you need to rest."
I scoffed. "I don't need your concern, thanks."
"It's not concern." He replied, pushing the door open and stepping inside without waiting for me. "It's practicality. You're useless to me if you collapse from exhaustion."
I followed Phoenix inside, biting back a retort. The tavern was warm and crowded, the air thick with the smell of roasted meat, spilled ale and the faint tang of unwashed bodies. The patrons were a mix of locals and travellers, their voices blending into a low, constant hum that made it hard to think.
He moved toward a table in the corner without waiting for me, his stride smooth and unhurried, like he owned the place. I followed, muttering under my breath about his arrogance, and slid into the seat across from him.
Before I could settle in, a shadow fell across our table.
"Well, well, well." A woman purred, leaning against the edge of the table. "A handsome man like you shouldn't be sitting all of the way back here, hiding."
I blinked up at her, startled by how quickly she'd zeroed in on Phoenix. She was dressed to attract attention-a low-cut dress that clung to her curves, her lips painted a vivid red, her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders. Her gaze flicked to me briefly, dismissively before locking back onto Phoenix like he was the only thing in the room worth noticing.
I felt an immediate prickle of annoyance, though I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was her smugness, the way she clearly thought she had him wrapped around her finger. Or maybe it was the fact that Phoenix didn't seem to mind her attention in the slightest.
Phoenix leaned back in his chair, his smirk widening. "I wasn't hiding." He said smoothly, his voice lower than usual.
The woman laughed, a throaty sound, and leaned in closer. "Good, because I'd hate for someone like you to go unnoticed. What do you say? Want some company?"
I stared at Phoenix, my mouth half-open, waiting for him to brush her off. He'd told me several times that he had no patience for humans, that he thought we were foolish and tedious. But instead of refusing, he tilted his head slightly, considering her, and then gave a faint nod.
"Why not?" He said, standing and stepping around the table toward her.
I blinked, stunned.
He didn't spare me a glance. The woman took his arm, practically purring with satisfaction, then led him toward the stairs at the back of the tavern.
"I'll be back." He said over his shoulder, his voice annoyingly nonchalant. "Don't move."
I stared after him, feeling something bitter and hot rise in my chest. Anger. That's what it was. Definitely anger. Not jealousy. Why would I be jealous of some harlot who'd probably charge him a few coins for a night of fake affection?
I muttered a curse under my breath and turned my back to the table, my appetite suddenly gone despite the smell of food wafting from the kitchen. A serving boy shuffled over, nervous and avoiding my gaze, and set a bowl of stew and a mug of ale in front of me before hurrying away.
I poked at the stew with my spoon, my thoughts drifting despite myself.
I wasn't fool enough to think I could forget about him. Alexander. The vampire who had claimed me as his own, whose presence still lingered in my blood, even though he'd never found me.
It had been too long. Longer than I could stand, and the ache in my chest wasn't just from missing him—it was from the gnawing uncertainty, the confusion that twisted every thought I had about him. About us.
But after I ran, he hadn't come for me. Hadn't sought me out.
I wanted to believe that he would. That after everything—after all the time we spent together, after everything we shared—he would come for me. But what if... what if he didn't care? What if I was just another piece of the past he was trying to forget?
I clenched my fists, the dull ache of old wounds reminding me of how foolish I felt. How small I had become, waiting for him. I had tried to convince myself it wasn't like that—that he would come back—but deep down, I knew I was lying to myself.
I had become nothing more than a faint memory to him.
The thought was almost unbearable. I could see his face in my mind, his cold, calculating eyes, the chiseled lines of his jaw, that cruel, knowing smile that never quite reached his eyes. The vampire who had claimed me, but the vampire who had also left me.
I remembered the first time I saw him, how he looked at me with such intensity. Like he saw straight through me, into something deeper, darker, that I didn't even understand. I had been so afraid of him then, so unsure of who he was and what he wanted. But over time, I had come to trust him. And in return, he had given me... what? Protection? A promise? A cruel sense of belonging?
That was the thing with Alexander. He never said anything. Everything was always implied, hidden beneath layers of silence and unspoken words. I was left to wonder. Left to piece things together on my own.
I glanced at the door, half-expecting him to walk through it at any moment, to appear with that familiar coldness in his gaze and that eerie stillness that surrounded him. But of course, he didn't.
I sighed, long and heavy, staring into the depths of my drink as if it could offer me some kind of clarity. But it never did.
The truth was, I didn't understand Alexander. Not really. I had tried. I had tried so hard to understand the things he kept hidden behind that impenetrable exterior, but no matter how much I wanted to, there was always something elusive about him—something I couldn't reach. It frustrated me, maddened me, because I was used to knowing people, used to understanding their motivations, their desires. But him? He was a mystery. A riddle I couldn't solve, no matter how much time I spent with him.
And now he was gone.
Maybe I had been a fool to ever think he would come. He was a vampire. He didn't need me. He never needed me.
The thought made something in my chest tighten, made the ache in my heart sharpen like a dagger.
Suddenly, a cold gust of wind blew through the tavern's open door, carrying with it the scent of night and the hint of rain. I shivered involuntarily, pulling my cloak tighter around my shoulders, trying to block out the chill, trying to block out the ache.
But I couldn't.
Maybe it was easier for him to stay away. Maybe he had forgotten me already. Maybe my need for him—my desperate, aching need to see him again—was just another weakness in my heart, something he didn't need, something he never wanted.
I didn't know how long I sat there, lost in my thoughts, my mind replaying every moment I'd spent with him. His touch. His silence. The way he looked at me when he thought I wasn't looking. The way I felt when he had kissed me... fed from me. The way his fangs brushed against my skin, a slow, dangerous caress that made my blood burn.
And yet, in all that time, had he ever thought of me as more than a fleeting thing, something to keep at arm's length when it suited him?
I didn't have an answer.
I wanted to scream, to throw something, to demand answers, when Phoenix reappeared.
He moved with the same effortless grace he always did, his dark coat swaying slightly as he crossed the room toward me. The sight of him sent a fresh wave of annoyance through me. He looked completely unruffled, not a hair out of place, and he had the audacity to wear that faint smirk, like he didn't have a care in the world.
"Back so soon?" I asked, leaning back in my chair and giving him a pointed look. "Didn't get your money's worth?"
Phoenix arched a brow as he slid into the chair across from me. "Jealous, human?"
I snorted, setting my ale down with a little more force than necessary. "Of what? A two-bit harlot who probably faked her way through the whole thing? Please."
His smirk widened, the kind of infuriating expression that made me want to throw my drink in his face. "You seem awfully interested in what I was doing. Should I be flattered?"
I rolled my eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a real reaction. "I'm not interested. I just find it fascinating how someone like you-cold, calculating, superior-can be so easily distracted by a pretty face."
He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his dark eyes fixed on me with a gaze that felt uncomfortably probing. "Distracted?" He repeated, his voice low and smooth. "Is that what you think I was?"
"What else would you call it?" I shot back, meeting his gaze despite the way it made my pulse quicken. "You disappeared upstairs with her like some lovesick fool, and now you're back looking smug as hell. It's pathetic."
He laughed softly, the sound rich and amused, and it made my skin prickle with irritation. "You're adorable when you're trying to insult me, you know that?"
I narrowed my eyes. "What about Lilith? Do you think she would approve of the way you spend your evenings? Slipping off with tavern harlots like some bored traveler?" I asked, my voice light and dripping with mock curiosity.
The words hung in the air between us, sharper than I intended, but I didn't care. His smirk faltered for the briefest moment, and I relished in the small victory.
Phoenix tilted his head, studying me with that piercing gaze of his, the one that always made me feel like he could see through whatever mask I was wearing. "Careful, human." He said softly, his voice, low and smooth. "You're starting to sound like you care."
I snorted, leaning back in my chair. "Hardly, but thinking about it, I do wonder what she would think of this? Of you?"
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but he didn't respond right away. Instead, he reached for his ale, and took a slow, deliberate sip, his eyes never leaving mine. "Do you really want to have this conversation?" He asked, his tone even but laced with a quiet warning.
I shrugged, feigning indifference even as my pulse quickened. "Why not? Or will talking about it hit a nerve?"
His eyes darkened, and the smirk that usually graced his lips was gone now, replaced by something colder, more dangerous. He set the ale down carefully, his fingers lingering on the rim as if he were weighting his words.
"It's over between me and Lilith." He said finally, his voice low and measured. "It's been over for awhile."
I raised an eyebrow, refusing to back down. "That's not really an answer though, is it? I asked, what she'd think if she could see you now, wallowing in...whatever this is." I gestured vaguely at him, at the tavern, at the weight of his presence that seemed to consume the space around him. "Would she be proud or disappointed?"
His gaze sharpened, and for a moment, I thought he might actually snap. But then he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, and there was something raw and unguarded in his expression that I hadn't seen before.
"You want to know what she'd think?" He asked, his voice low and edged with something that sent a shiver down my spine. "She wouldn't care. She's too busy planning her own wedding."
My heart stuttered in my chest, but I forced myself to keep my expression neutral. "She's getting married? To who?"
Phoenix hesitated, and that alone was enough to set off alarm bells in my head. He never hesitated. He always spoke with the kind of confidence that made you want to punch him in the face, but now he looked almost...uncertain.
"Who do you think?" He said, the words blunt and cutting.
I froze, the air rushing out of my lungs as if I'd been punched. "No."
"Your prince is getting married." Phoenix said, his voice quieter now. "To Lilith."
The world seemed to tilt on its axis, the walls of the room closing in around me. "No." I said, shaking my head. "That doesn't make any sense. Alexander wouldn't do that. Not without-" I stopped myself, my voice catching.
"Not without telling you? Not without consulting you, his favourite little mortal?" Phoenix said, his tone sharper now. "Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you're not the centre of his world."
"Shut up." I hissed, but my voice wavered.
"It's true." Phoenix said, his voice softening slightly, though I could tell he enjoyed the way my composure was crumbling. "Or did you forget that they were engaged."
I stared at him, my chest tightening with a mixture of confusion and anger. "But he hates Lilith. He knows what she is. He knows what she's done."
"He loves her." Phoenix said finally, his tone quieter now. "It's always been her."
The words hung between us, and I hated how much truth there was in them. I hated that he could see right through me, that he knew how much I cared, even when I tried so hard to hide it.
Tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him. "You're lying." I said, though the words sounded hollow even to me.
"I wish I was." Phoenix said, his voice almost gentle.
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
His expression shifted, something almost like regret flashing across his face. Almost. But then it was gone, replaced by the smirk I'd come to despise. "I just thought you deserved to know. After all, I wouldn't want you wandering around with your silly little hopes intact."
"You're such a bastard." I spat, tears threatening to spill over now.
"And yet, here you are, still listening." He said, leaning in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Tell me, does it hurt? Knowing he chose her over you?"
I couldn't answer. My throat felt too tight, my chest too heavy. The answer was yes, of course it hurt. But I wouldn't give Phoenix the satisfaction of hearing me say it.
Phoenix stood, his movements graceful and deliberate. He leaned down, close enough that I could feel the coldness radiating from him. "Believe it or not, you're not the only one that's hurting, human."