Ashes of a Dying Line
Him
“Is she dead?” Andras angled his head, trying to get a look at her face. Her neck hung limp, too far back to see her eyes.
“No. I drank too much.”
Andras blinked. “You lost control?”
“Yes.” The word came out like a growl.
“Huh,” he mused. “Her blood was that good?”
I didn’t answer. I just kept walking, jaw tight.
“Mind if I have a taste?”
I shrugged. Casual and detached. But inside, something in me twisted sharp and deep. “Sure. Once she recovers.”
We always shared. Humans weren’t possessions, they were sustenance. With her, however, the idea of Andras touching her sparked something savage.
The night stretched quiet around us as we walked through Qemond, the torches casting long shadows across the cobbled streets. Every flicker of flame felt heavier than usual.
I glanced down at the frail human in my arms. Her skin burned against mine; feverish, flushed with the aftershock of my bite. Her blood still throbbed inside me like a second heartbeat. I could feel it in my gums, in the corners of my eyes. I wanted more.
Her scent curled into my senses like smoke.
“You hear anything from your scouts?” I asked, my voice low, teeth still aching. “Any trace of a Siphon Witch?”
Andras walked at my side, steps easy, casual as always, too casual for the decline we were facing. “Not yet. The last report was from a border village near the Durnian Cliffs. False lead. Just a hedge witch with a talent for lies.”
I growled under my breath. “It’s been months.”
“Try asking the Council,” he said. “They’ve got their own search running, funded through the treasury. Could be they’re having more luck than we are.”
I looked over at him, eyes narrowing. “If they were, they’d be crowing about it. They want credit for every damn thing they touch.”
He nodded. . “Without a siphon, our bloodlines end. They would want all the credit for saving the species.”
I didn’t respond. I looked down at the girl again, her breath shallow, skin slick with sweat. Fragile. Human. And yet her blood burned; it was strong, a wall.
A flicker of thought passed through me, but I dismissed it as impossible.
“Tell your men to push south,” I said. “If the witches are hiding, they’ll be closer to the old temples.”
Andras nodded, though his eyes drifted down to the girl in my arms. We walked in silence the rest of the way.
When we arrived at the palace, Loxer, my attendant, was waiting inside the entrance. “Your Majesty.”
His gaze dropped to the girl in my arms, and his lips parted, confused, almost wary. He glanced to Andras, then back to me.
“She’ll be replacing Sara,” I said, handing her over.
Loxer took her carefully, arms stiff. “What would you like me to do with Sara?”
“Kill her. Burn her. I don’t care.”
His hesitation was small, but I caught it.
I smirked. “Or make her your bleeder. Doesn’t matter to me.”
Relief softened his shoulders. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
He nodded and disappeared down the corridor with her hanging limp in his arms. Andras and I stood in silence until the echo of his footsteps faded. I exhaled, cracked my neck.
“What if I wanted Sara?” he asked as we walked toward my office.
“You still can. Loxer listens to you, too.”
He chuckled, but his eyes stayed on me as we entered the room. “So, what did you end up telling Holmes?”
I slumped into my chair with a huff. “Told him I’d think about it.”
“You’re not, though. Right?”
I reached for the whiskey in my desk, unscrewed the cap, and drank straight from the bottle. “What the fuck do you think?”
Andras just waited.
“The arrogance,” I muttered. “As if I’d be flattered to be offered his daughter like some prize. Told me I could do whatever I wanted to her as long as I married her.”
Andras leaned back, arms crossed, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Sounds like a deal you’d usually enjoy. Pretty girl, pliant kingdom. What’s stopping you?”
I shot him a look. “Watch it.”
He raised his hands, but didn’t apologize. “Just saying. Holmes has the second strongest kingdom after Qemond. The match makes sense.”
I took another swig of whiskey, the burn nonexistent. I drank it out of habit now, not that I could feel it’s effects. “I don’t want a bride. And I sure as hell don’t want one handed to me like some token of peace. I don’t like Holmes. I don’t like him.”
“So why not reject it outright?”
I set the bottle down with a thud. “Because Holmes is bleeding at the borders. Humans are breaking through. And they’ve allied with witches. I want to know more, keep Holmes on my good side.”
Andras’ brow furrowed. “Witches? Siding with mortals?”
“He’s losing control. His kingdom’s cracking beneath him, and now he’s begging me to piece it back together with a fucking wedding.”
Andras tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. “He’s still a strategic ally. If you don’t want the girl, take the kingdom. A marriage gives you both.”
“I don’t need a bride to take Jeshire.”
“No, but it would make things easier,” he said/ “No need for a war if she’s already in your bed.”
My jaw flexed. “I don’t like being told what to do.”
Andras smirked, but his eyes watched me closely. “You hate politics unless you’re holding a blade to someone’s throat. This marriage could open doors. No blood spilled.”
I leaned forward slowly, hands steepled. “Is that what you want, Andras? Peace treaties and balls? Shall I send you in my place to court the princess?”
His smile thinned, but he didn’t look away. “I want what’s best for the kingdom.”
I held his gaze for a long, tense moment. “So do I.”
He stood abruptly, pushing off the desk with a flick of his fingers. “Then you should consider the marriage.”
I didn’t answer.
Andras gave a half-nod, casual but clipped. “Try not to kill anyone else tonight, Majesty.”
I didn’t look at him as he left. The door clicked shut, and silence returned.
I stared at the desk for a long while, the scent of her blood still clinging to the back of my throat. I poured another drink, let it sit untouched.
Eventually, I stood and made my way to my chambers. I should’ve gone to the slave quarters, but I didn’t trust myself.
Not yet. So I lay in bed alone, the taste of her still alive on my tongue.
Tomorrow, I’d feed again.
Tomorrow, I’d take more.