Lilac nodded slowly. She did remember. Every embarrassing moment. “I do. I know I was a little drunk, but I do remember.”
“An abomination as I am, princess,” he added grimly, “I’m not that kind. Never.”
She didn’t reply, only staring in response and clinging to a fragile truth she hoped was true.
Garin fluffed his drying hair and leaned back against the nearest tree trunk. He looked like a destroying angel in the moonlight. “And, I didn’t want to eat you,” he said, echoing her word choice and frowning. “I intended make you more compliant by invoking a blood bond. To do that, I merely needed to bite you. It happens when a person is bitten moments after being entranced, but it all went wrong.”
Lilac inhaled sharply, processing his words. “Compliant for what? And you trapped me back at the inn,” she snapped. “That’s blatant treason, you know.”
Instead of answering right away, Garin pushed himself off the tree trunk, a black curl of hair flopping down over his forehead. He brushed it back and dusted the moss off his hands. “Frankly, princess, do I look like I lose sleep over whether or not my actions are permissible?”
Something felt off. Despite the vastness of the woods, she felt cornered. His carelessness wasn’t a façade; her threats truly meant nothing to him. As charming as he could make himself seem, he was still a Darkling with ulterior motives. Each moment spent with him was another of her journey wasted.
Everything came flowing out of her like the vomit on the riverbank. “What do you want with me? I don’t even know where you want to take me,” she said in exasperation. “What I do know is that you won’t stop following me.”
“No, I—” Then, Garin paused. “Hold on. No. You’re my captive.”
“But you haven’t harmed me at all,” she continued, her thoughts flowing freely now. Perhaps she’d spoken too soon with the way the unscrupulous vampire stared at her now, but… He hadn’t. If anything, his dire need for her company—whatever it was for—had made him protective of her.
“At least, tell me this,” she said, the tremors in her voice evening. She had to be sure of one other very important detail. “Will you kill me?”
He said nothing, but his eyes were desperately sad.
“Do you want to kill me?” she prodded, searching his face for the smallest bit of sympathy.
He shook his head. “I will not,” he said decisively, as if to convince himself. “You have my word. While we’re together, you’ll be safer than you are anywhere else in Brocéliande.”
Incredibly, impossibly, hope flared in her frigid body. While we’re together sounded like he intended on releasing her at some point. After all he’d put her through, maybe Garin could accompany her the rest of the way to Paimpont. He at least owed her that much, didn’t he?
He eyed her apprehensively, brows softened and lips slightly parted, almost as if giving her a choice.
Lilac stared back. Stared hard. There was no choice; like his off-kilter beauty, it was an illusion for her benefit. He was a Darkling, through and through—and caring about someone was not the same as preserving them for some other nefarious plot.
But maybe—
“Let us make haste,” Garin said. He held out his arm, again, offering a choice she didn’t actually have.
Her flame of hope died as quickly as it had ignited. Hands balled in fists, she willed herself to relax. Fighting him would not change what was already done. There was no resisting or running from him. She’d tried.
“Where?”
“I’m taking you to the Sanguine Mine.”
“And what exactly is that?”
“You’ll see.”
It took a moment for the information to register. Followed by the initial wave of horror, Lilac couldn’t help the flutters of wonderment. Humans still knew so little of the Darklings’ permanent habitats; the dusty tomes and journals she’d poured over in her studies mostly referenced legend, or third- or fourth-hand accounts when trying to place most of the species’ homes. The Brocéliande vampire coven was rumored to live in the northeastern reaches of the High Forest. Maybe the books were half right. And, based on her scant knowledge of the forest layout, following him there—following him east—would bring her that much closer to town. At least she’d have an escort part of the way.
Then... Then, she’d escape, or at least go down swinging. That was, if she couldn’t convince Garin to let her go.
She cleared her throat and ruffled the front of her damp dress. “Politely declining won’t work, I presume?”
“It might be as useful as running from me.” He clasped his fingers together. “Consider my counter. There’s food there. And a place to sleep.”
Under usual circumstances, such accommodations would’ve been trivial to the princess, but now he was almost crooning. In her current predicament, she would kill for a warm bed and something substantial to eat. She studied him, gauging his sincerity. Food. Sleep. She needed to refocus on her mission, on reaching Paimpont. It had been such a long first day and a half, especially since Sinclair appeared. She couldn’t afford to lose any more time.
As if picking up on her hesitation, Garin’s dancing eyes remained fixated on her.
He wouldn’t budge in his resolve.
Of course not.
“I’ll come with you,” she agreed, drawing out each word, “if you—”
“If?”
“If you agree to release me after whatever it is you need me for. I’ve got a tight time constraint, as you can see.”
He blinked in astonishment. “You dare bargain your own fate?”
Lilac took a deep breath and exhaled. “You need me.” She held his gaze, and her ground. He needed her. He wouldn’t hurt her.
Fuming, Garin crossed his arms. He was finally listening.
“What I need is to get to Paimpont before the ceremony. I have to make it to my own coronation, or else Sinclair will surely try to take it over. At this rate, I won’t be able to stop to rest at all on my way back.”
Garin squinted at her as if seeing her for the first time. “So that’s really your story, then? You haven’t come to Brocéliande to shake hands and kiss babies.”
“I told you, I’m seeing a friend. That was the truth.”
“What friends do you have? Especially since your little affliction was discovered,” he sneered, raising a brow. “And just what about this friend is so urgent that you’ll risk the throne for them? Please, enlighten me.”
She stiffened. His trenchant wit was nauseating. “I’m not justifying anything to you, vampire. I’m not agreeing to anything, unless you tell me why exactly you need me, and that you’ll let me go. So, talk, if you don’t want to transport me kicking and screaming the entire way.”
He considered her for a moment. Then, he was at her side before she could blink, scooping her up over his shoulder and cradling her around the bottom like a large child.
“The truth is, princess,” he began as they walked, raising his voice over her protests. “I left the coven years ago. I was—”
“You—"
"—shunned, if you will, because—”