Chapter 3

Three days after the awakening, I decided to leave the border forest.

I was not leaving because I was afraid. I simply wanted nothing more to do with the Bloodmoon Pack.

I followed the mountain range south toward Grayhaven, a neutral city where wolves, vampires, and humans mingled. No one asked about your past there. Only strength mattered.

And I had strength now.

A Healer's power went far beyond mending wounds. I could sense the life force of every living creature within six miles, accelerate plant growth, even pull someone back from the edge of death.

But I couldn't let anyone find out.

A Healer was a holy relic to the wolves. If word got out, every faction would come for me, some to use me and some to kill me.

So I masked my presence and traveled as an ordinary drifter.

On the fourth evening, I ran into trouble.

As I crossed the Mistfang Gorge, the air turned bone-cold without warning. A smell of ancient decay seeped through the trees at the boundary of vampire territory.

I stopped.

Ten feet ahead, the air rippled and a man stepped out of the shadows.

He was easily six foot four, with silver-white hair falling past his waist and violet eyes that glowed faintly in the dusk. His skin was pale as marble, and his features were too perfect to belong to a living person.

He wore a black high-collared coat embroidered with an intricate crest in dark gold thread.

I recognized the crest of House Nightshade, one of the oldest and most powerful vampire bloodlines.

And the crown above the crest meant only one thing.

He was a prince.

"Human?" He tilted his head, his voice a deep, magnetic rumble. "No… a wolf?"

His gaze lingered on me for two seconds, then sharpened.

"No. That's not right either," he stepped closer, a flash of surprise crossing those violet eyes. "Your scent… moonlight. You're a Healer?"

My heart seized. I backed up instinctively.

Damn it. I had clearly masked my scent.

"Easy," he raised both hands in a disarming gesture, though the corner of his mouth curled knowingly. "I mean you no harm."

"A vampire prince means a wolf Healer no harm?" I let out a dry laugh. "You really expect me to believe that?"

He gave a low, resonant chuckle like the hum of a cello.

"Fair point. Under normal circumstances, I'd take you captive, drain your blood, or use you as a bargaining chip against the wolves," he paused. "But I've run into a bit of a problem."

He unfastened his collar.

Black lines like charred veins crawled across his neck and down past his collarbone.

"A Sun Curse," I blurted.

"Impressive. You spotted it at a glance," he refastened his collar. "Three months ago, a rival house ambushed me. The curse keeps me from daylight, and it's eating its way toward my heart. Another month at most, and I'll be a real corpse."

"Then go to a vampire healer. Not me."

"They can't break it," he said calmly. "The only one who can lift a Sun Curse is a Healer blessed by the Moon Goddess."

Silence hung between us.

"You can save me," his eyes held mine. "In return, I'll give you whatever you want, including territory, wealth, or power."

"And if I refuse?"

He was quiet for a moment. Then he dropped to one knee.

A vampire prince was kneeling before a wolf girl.

"Then I'm asking you," he said. "Save my life. I don't want to turn to ash."

I stared at him.

I was stunned not by the gesture, but because my Healer's senses were reading him. A Healer could perceive any living creature's true emotions. He wasn't lying. He was genuinely desperate.

"I'll save you," I said slowly. "But I don't want wealth or power."

"Then what do you want?"

"A Blood Bond."

His pupils contracted sharply.

A Blood Bond was the vampires' oldest, most sacred covenant. By exchanging blood, both parties linked their lives and power. To vampires, a Blood Bond partner was closer than a fated mate: one was given by the moon, the other chosen.

And there was one particular rule: once the bond was sealed, the vampire would no longer be harmed by sunlight.

"Do you understand what you're asking?" His voice had gone rough. "Bond with me, and you become my only weakness. If I die, you'll suffer devastating psychic damage. If you die, my body will disintegrate on the spot."

"I know."

"And it means your mating bond can never be restored. Even if that Alpha King regrets it until his dying breath, you and he are finished."

"I know," I smiled. "That's exactly what I want."

He studied me, and something complex churned behind those violet eyes.

Then he raised his hand and bit into his own fingertip.

"Leander Nightshade," he said, speaking his full name. "Prince of House Nightshade. By the blood of the First Ancestor, I swear to forge a Blood Bond with this wolf, bound in life and death, faithful until the end."

I bit my finger and pressed our wounds together.

Two drops of blood met in midair and fused into a streak of dark gold light that sank into each of our brows.

My consciousness exploded.

His emotions, fragments of his memories, and the pulse of his power all crashed into my mind like a tidal wave.

I saw three hundred years of solitude.

I saw betrayal by his kin and treachery from his allies.

I saw a man walking through the endless dark and trusting no one.

And he saw me traded to the Alpha King like property, crying alone in that freezing storage room.

He saw my resolve break apart and be forged anew at the moment I awakened.

We opened our eyes at the same time.

He looked at me, and the look in his eyes had changed. It was no longer a prince appraising someone beneath him. It was something else entirely, like a warm spring stirring under a sheet of ice.

"Eleanora." It was the first time he said my name. "From now on, you're mine."

"Wrong," I raised an eyebrow. "You're mine."

He blinked. Then he laughed.

It was the most beautiful smile I had ever seen.

His smile was dangerous and gentle all at once.