Lothaire

Ivana reached for him, pressing her frozen hands against his cheeks, raising his face. “Forget all you’ve heard from your father. When you are older, immortal males will tremble before you in dread while their females swoon in your wake.”

“Truly, Mother?”

“You are perfectly formed and will grow to be a magnificent Dacian, a vampire to be feared. Especially once you become blooded.” She peered up at the cloudy sky, snow dotting her face. “And your Bride?” Ivana met his gaze once more. “She will be incomparable. A queen that even I would bow down to.”

He squinted at her to see if she jested, but her demeanor was earnest.

Lothaire hoped he found this female quickly. He knew that when he was completely grown, his heart would slowly stop its beat, his lungs their breathing. As he became one among the walking-dead vampires, he’d feel no need for females.

His uncle had once chucked him under the chin and said, “Just when you’ve forgotten how much you miss the cradle of a female’s soft thighs, you’ll find your Bride, and she’ll bring you back to life.”

Lothaire cared naught about bedding, but the idea of his heart stopping horrified him. He asked Ivana, “How long will it be till I can find her?”

She gazed away, saying in an odd tone, “I know not. It might take centuries. Outside of Dacia, female vampires grow scarce. But I do know that you will be a good and faithful king to her.” Then she asked, “And what will you do when you possess the throne of the Horde?”

“Unite with your father, aligning the Daci and the Horde under one family crest.”

She nodded. “Serghei is the only one you can trust. Not my brothers or sisters with their scheming and plots. Solely my father. And of course you can trust your Bride. But what of everyone else?”

“I’m to use and discard them, caring about none, for they matter naught.”

She curled her forefinger under his chin. “Yes, my clever son.”

They spent the next few miles in this manner, with her teaching him the intricate customs of the Daci as they tried to ignore the cold. A lowering sky threatened even more snow; dawn would claw through the dark in mere hours.

Lothaire shivered, teeth and baby fangs chattering.

“Silence,” Ivana hissed. “The humans did follow.” She scented the air. “Gods, their smell aggrieves me!”

“What do they want?”

She murmured, “To hunt us.”

“Wh-where can we hide?” They were in a wide valley with high plateaus to the east and west. The mortals advanced from the north. Mountains loomed far to the south.

She gazed around despairingly. “We must make it to those mountains. I believe that is where we’ll find the pass that leads to Dacia.” She gave him a shove. “Now run!”

He did, as fast as he could, but the snow was too high on the ground, blinding bits of it raining down too swiftly. “We’ll never make it, Mother!”

She snatched his arm and attempted to trace with him. Their forms briefly faded but wouldn’t disappear. Gritting her teeth, she tried once more, to no avail.

Releasing him, she spun in place, searching for an escape—then stilled, listening. Her eyes shot wide. “Father!” she screamed, the sound echoing down the valley. “I am here! Your Ivana is here.”

No one answered.

“Father!”

Mortals in the distance gave shouts as they neared.

“Papa?” She swayed on her feet, her expression . . . lost. “I know I sensed him and others.”

So had Lothaire. Immortals of great power had been here. Why not rescue their princess?

Crimson tears slid down her beautiful face as she dropped to her knees. “We were so close.” The proud Ivana began to dig into the snow, using her claws to stab through the permanent layers of ice.

Even as her claws tore off and her fingers began to bleed she continued digging. “How low I’ve been brought, Lothaire. When you remember me, recall not this.”

With each handful of ice, a hole grew. “You are the son of a king, the grandson of a king. Do not ever forget that!” When the skin on her fingertips began to peel away, he tried to help her, but she slapped his hands, seeming nigh maddened. Finally, she pulled him into the small pit she’d made. “Come. Hide here.”

“I must make it deeper, Mother. There’s not enough room.”

She whispered, “There’s room enough. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

His eyes widened. She meant to fight them? “Trace from here alone,” he said, though he knew she was probably too weak even for that.

“Never! Now, what are your vows to me?”

“Mother, I—”

She snapped her fangs, her irises gone black. “Your vows!”

“Take the life of Stefanovich. Seize his throne.”

“Whom will you trust?”

“None but your father and my queen.”

More tears dropped. “No, your queen alone, Lothaire. Serghei and the Daci forsook us this day.”

“Why?”

“I led these mortals too close.” She gave a sob. “He chose the kingdom’s precious secrecy—over our lives. I am to pay for my brashness, for my lack of cunning. They make an example of me.”

Panic flared within Lothaire. “How will I find you? What do I do?”

“Once the humans are gone, my family will come for you. If not, you’ll do whatever it takes to survive. Remember all I’ve taught you.” She shoved her sleeve up her arm. “Drink, Lothaire.”

“Now?” He shook his head in confusion. “You cannot lose blood.”

“Obey me!” She bit into her wrist. “Lean your head back and part your lips.”

Unwillingly, he did, and she raised her arm over his upturned face, above his mouth. Her blood was rich, quickly warding off the chill.

She made him drink till the stream had ebbed to a trickle, till ice had formed on the wound. “Now listen. I will lead them away from you, distract them. They will take me—”

“Nooo!” he howled.

“Lothaire, listen! When they capture me, the need to protect me will rise up within you. You must ignore it and remain here. Ignore your instinct and rely on cold reason. As I failed to do with Stefanovich. As I failed to do a thousand times. Vow this!”

“You want me to hide? To not defend you against those creatures?” Embarrassing tears welled.

“Yes, this is precisely what I want. Son, your mind is the brightest I’ve ever encountered. Use it. Do not repeat my mistakes!” She gripped his chin. “You’ve one last vow to give me. A vow to the Lore that you will not leave this spot until the mortals are gone.”

To the Lore? ’Twas an unbreakable vow! He wanted to rail, to deny her this. How could he not defend her?

She raised her chin. “Lothaire, I . . . beg you for this.”

A proud princess of the Daci begging one like me? His lips parted in shock. Words tumbled from them. “I vow it to the Lore.”

“Very good.” She pressed a cool kiss to his brow. “I want you never, never to be brought this low again.” Over his frantic protests, she began to bury him in the snow. “Become the king you were born to be.”

“Mother, please! H-how can you do this?”

“Because you are my son. My heart. I will do whatever it takes to protect you.” They met gazes. “Lothaire, anything that was worthy in me began with you.”

He refused to believe this would be the last time he saw her, refused to tell his mother how much he loved her—