The Vyvernault Heir by Anthea Wald

Author:Anthea Wald [Wald, Anthea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798985126907
Publisher: Greyman Works, LLC

Part II

Chapter 1

Nyle’s throat was so parched the vocal cords were sticking together. Every time he talked, they felt like two dry sticks rubbing together. It was driving him mad. Eventually, they would either create fire or snap.

He passed Henley, who was playing soccer with a group of other students. Henley paused, putting a hand over his brows to look at Nyle. No matter what he was doing, his enviously voluminous businessman haircut stayed pomped to perfection. His brown eyes squinted at his friend’s face, but at the call of his teammates, he waved and went back to chasing the ball.

Outwardly, Nyle seemed calm, but inside he was agitated enough to rip his throat out. It was useless anyway.

He felt a snap in one of his hands that were in his pocket, so he pulled it out and saw he’d crushed a pen. It wasn’t even his. He threw the pen in the trash and loped up the stairs toward the student lounge. The halls were quiet because most students were outside or in the lounges after school. Nyle passed Gustav Livingston, who reeked of dried blood and corn chips. Gustav left a trail a yard wide in the corridor.

Darkness couldn’t come fast enough. He needed to hunt tonight. Whatever was in the mountains, he needed to drink something—anything. He would even go for bear tonight, even though they were typically sweaty, nasty creatures that tasted dense and disgustingly sweaty.

He’d been negligent thinking he could go without feeding yesterday. He didn’t think his body would go through so much blood trying to find more blood—her blood.

He sighed when he heard voices in the student lounge. He hoped he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. He might just snap at anyone who tried to trap him in a conversation.

“… And at the end of the year, we’ll visit my paternal grandmother’s church for a blessing on our betrothal. It’s traditional to introduce the future bride to the rest of the extended Hague family members on the last day of spring.”

“So that means we’ll be at the church in the morning, play some games at noon, and eat? Is there anything else?” came a voice as bright as the keys on a newly tuned piano. Her voice.

Nyle stopped two steps from the student lounge door.

“No. We can head back to Casseval around eight o’clock.”

“Okay,” replied Holly. “I can tell Aoife we’ll be about twenty minutes late to her granddaughter’s recital. Can we buy a bouquet in the morning and store it at your grandmother’s house?”

Harold said, “No, my grandmother hates flowers. Her nose is really sensitive. She might agree, out of kindness, but she’ll probably end up getting angry and throw them out. It’s better not to risk it.”

“Then we’ll just be thirty minutes late to the recital,” she sighed in acceptance.

“Don’t sound so disheartened. We’ll send three dozen flowers direct and make sure the bouquet is as big as her height.” Then Nyle heard him mutter in a volume only vampires could listen to, “And Aoife’s confidence in the girl’s terrible skills.

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