Adres pfft’d. He was supposed to be looking for Belleron, but for some reason he found himself enjoying Henry’s company and his annoying way of finding the beauty in everything. Even him. There was something so unique about him to be a vampire. He was nurturing to the pack, comforting, and sweet. Like a human.
“I think as vampires, we take the miraculousness of the night for granted. We believe it is ours, and therefore we ignore all that it has to offer, all that it gives to us. The shadows and darkness that we seek comfort in, that we use to protect and shield ourselves, disappear while we slumber. And reappear only when we wake. Have we ever once stopped to say thank you?”
Adres supposed not.
“That is what shifters do. They are the most grateful creatures on the earth. They roam during the day in the brilliance of the sun that causes their fields to grow and produce food. And they constantly give thanks.” A wolf howled long and slow in the distance. “And every twenty-nine and a half days, they give a special thanks to the night. In the most glorious way. I mean, just listen, my Lord, as they become one with the elements.”
Adres was getting lost in Henry’s words.
“And everything about them is amplified tonight. Their voice, their scent…” Henry was unable to conceal his trembling when he added, “Their touch.”
Adres allowed the distant noise to filter to his mind, and he could hear the shifters running and howling far off at a perfect pitch, sounding like a song. He listened for his young wolf, but he only heard pack members. Where are you?
Henry glanced back at him, a faint blush creeping up his high cheekbones, and that was when Adres heard the rutting and moaning. So much that he quickly blocked those noises out as it was not going to help his predicament.
“I think we’ve experienced enough now, don’t you, Henry?” Adres declared.
“You are quite the enigma, Adres Cavalerie. I know you’re blocking some of your scent but you are just as enamored by the new moon as the rest of us, nightwalker.” Henry nudged his arm as he walked past.
Adres would not admit or deny either way— He stopped and turned towards the towering mountains. He frowned as a buzzing began under his skin. A feeling he hadn’t felt since he’d allowed Macauley inside him. Something was wrong.
“What is it, my Lord?” Henry stopped when he did.
“There’s someone attempting to break through one of the guardian wards I have around the perimeter,” Adres mumbled, straining to reach that far with his hearing.
“An intruder? Are you sure?”
“A spider knows when its web has been disturbed.” Adres released a sharp whistle, and Razboi appeared beside him, shaking his wild black mane. His war companion could feel it too.
“What would you have me do, Lord?” Henry asked as Adres leapt onto his horse’s back and settled into the saddle.
“Go find Justice and Wick immediately. Tell them whoever is at the border, I’m bringing back with me.” Adres shoved his boots into the stirrups and lowered his hood. “Dead or alive.”
“My gods.”
Henry flashed away, and Adres took off into the woods and up the steep mountain. Whoever was trying to enter from that point was someone powerful. Adres’s heart pounded rapidly as he thought of not only protecting his beloved, but all of the shifters who were oblivious and vulnerable right now.
Adres used his speed, and by the time he reached the perimeter, he could barely feel the presence of the intruder anymore, which meant they had a shield. Adres pulled his sword from concealed within his armor and extended the blade. He didn’t want to kill. But he would for his cherished… without mercy.
Adres tore down just enough of the barrier for he and Razboi to run through. It was eerily quiet on the other side of the border—too quiet. Adres didn’t hear a single coyote, racoon, not even a bark beetle.
Adres harnessed his light as the air began to heat around him. “Show yourself now,” he called out. “That is not a warning!”
Adres heard footsteps running towards him, but he didn’t see anyone. A voice carried to him, almost startling him off his horse. “Horseman, it is me. Let me in—hurry!”
Adres held Razboi’s reins secure in his left hand as he stomped at the ground. “What is it, Boi? Where are they?”
“I am here,” the male called out again, more panicked.
“Show yourself!” Adres boomed, stabbing his blade into the ground, causing it to quake. He got off his horse in case he needed to battle.
Seconds ticked by before Adres narrowed his eyes at the tall naked figure running directly towards him. He had shoulder-length, milky white hair that caught on the wind, and his scent made it to Adres before he did. A smell that could only be described as divine caused his fangs to throb under his gums, but they didn’t descend. The gods. The man coming at him was not human, nor was he a shifter or a vampire.