Only Love is Deathless by Sita Bethel

Author:Sita Bethel [Bethel, Sita]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: NineStar Press, LGBTQIA+, royalty, witches, mares, wizards, demons, magic/magic users, weddings
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2020-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Sreka shouted and ducked as glass rained into his hair. Wind blew inside, snuffing out the candles. The room darkened; six smeary shapes surrounded Sreka. They solidified into men with pale skin and fangs. Sreka froze. His fingers slid to the clasp on the box, desperate to recover the hagstone. Before Sreka could move, Košmar rushed into the room with Uthgud drawn. He dissolved into a shadow, eyes glowing as fiercely as the vampires’ but a brighter crimson. They lunged at him, and he plunged the ancient sword into the first one’s chest.

As Košmar fought, one of the vampires tackled Sreka. Sreka crashed onto a chair, knocking it over and shattering it against the stone floor. Sreka’s shoulder throbbed from the impact, but the battle was in his blood, dulling his pain. He snatched a shard of wood from the chair and thrust it between the vampire’s ribs. Blood, cold and thick, spewed from the wound and ruined Sreka’s wedding suit. Sreka flung the creature off his body. He grabbed another chunk of furniture, smacking it against the ground to splinter the end and create another improvised stake. A head rolled past him. An inhuman roar pierced the air as Košmar continued to fight.

Another vampire shoved Sreka to the ground, fangs bared. He pinned Sreka’s arm over his head. Sreka strained, but didn’t have the strength to break the undead creature’s hold. Košmar swung, blade dulled with blood, and cut three quarters through the vampire’s neck. More blood sprayed the air. Sreka clamped his eyes and mouth shut. The dead weight fell on him, but Košmar pulled the corpse away and dropped it aside. He knelt beside Sreka, cupping Sreka’s face with a hand woven from soot-black shadows. The twisted fingers crowning Košmar’s head waved like black fire and wisps of heatless, dark flame rose from his body.

“I’m sorry.” Tears cut trails into the cold, tacky blood plastered to Sreka’s cheeks. “You told me to keep the hagstone over the bed, but I was selfish. I’m sorry.”

“No.” The shadows coalesced. Skin sewed over the pitch, and in three seconds Košmar appeared human again. “No. Sreka, they waited for our wedding night to attack. This isn’t your fault.”

“I-I need a bath.” Sreka forced a smile on his face, but stray tears stained his cheeks.

“I’ll ring for the servants to—” Pounding from the outer door interrupted Košmar. He grabbed his sword, creeping through the parlor. “Sreka, stay behind me.”

Sreka winced as he stood, grabbing his shoulder to comfort himself. Košmar opened the door and Ubavina crashed against him.

“They took him! They took him!”

“Ubavina?” Sreka stumbled to his bedroom doorway, stopping at the threshold.

“Sreka!” She rushed into Sreka’s arms when she saw him. She only wore a simple night shift and robe. Her auburn hair hung in a single plait behind her back. She cried against Sreka’s shoulder, trembling. “Dobrina’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Monsters! Undead! They crashed through the windows and tore him from my arms! Oh God, we need a priest!”

“My lords!” a guard called into the apartment.

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