The Storm Artifacts: Chronicles of Storm Book Five by N.M. Thorn

Author:N.M. Thorn [Thorn, N.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-10-20T00:00:00+00:00

As the princess had mentioned, the bath was ready and a set of clothes had been placed on a bow-legged stool next to the tub. The small room was illuminated by a dozen candles, and the pleasant scent of candle wax, perfumes and herbs infused the air.

With his mind fixed on what he was going to do after he left the castle, he quickly undressed and lowered himself into the hot water. To his surprise, his body responded with soreness and aches, but when he looked down, he didn’t find any open wounds. The vampiric healing had taken care of all the injuries.

He leaned back and closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax for a few minutes. His thoughts returned to his fight with the possessed Kikimora, and tightness suffused his chest. He had used magic. He had cast a spell. Vampires couldn’t do that. It was impossible. An image of Declan appeared in his mind—his friend debilitated by the use of magic. He recalled how Declan felt when he was drained magically and couldn’t help but draw a parallel. Weak, aching body, unable to form a conscious thought—what he felt now were the symptoms of magical energy deprivation. In his case, he added an unquenchable, out-of-control thirst to the list of symptoms.

“Impossible,” he whispered to himself, pressing the heels of his hands to his closed eyes.

Forcing himself to relax again, he cleared his mind from the troubling thoughts and allowed himself to enjoy the soothing caress of the warm water. He didn’t notice when he drifted off to a light sleep.

A gentle touch to his arm ripped him out of his peaceful slumber. He opened his eyes and found Princess Milana standing next to him, her trembling fingers tracing the shape of his biceps. In the flickering candlelight, she looked older than he had originally placed her, appearing to be at least eighteen, and since she was human, that was her true age. Her green eyes were slightly foggy, and busy with her explorations, she didn’t notice that he was awake.

“My apologies, Your Highness. I fell asleep,” he said softly. “If you allow me five more minutes, I’ll finish my bath and get dressed.”

She flinched from the sound of his voice, as though startled from a daydream, and backed away from the tub, a blush coloring her cheeks a tender pink.

“I’m the one who needs to apologize,” she replied. “I shouldn’t have entered this room without an invitation and disturb your privacy.” She placed a vial on the table next to the door. “My father, the king, sent you more blood. One of our guards donated it willingly when he heard you needed better nourishment to recover after the fight. You saved his wife, and it’s his way of thanking you. She was afflicted by the curse and recovered once you killed the monster.” She cleared her throat, looking anywhere but at Troyan. “My father said a small amount of human blood would give you more energy than three jars of animal blood.

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