“I’ll walk with you for as long as you desire.” I pressed my lips to her hair, tasting her scent, my thirst sated by the sweet blood she’d gifted to me.

I finally released her, letting her have this time in the forest to clear her mind, vowing to take her outside more often. She was a human who needed sun and fresh air, not a bird to be kept in a pretty cage.

As she strolled the clearing, touching trees and getting sap on her hands, crunching needles underfoot, I kept watch; tasting the air, untainted by wargs, idly planning where to take Cirri when the wolves were gone. There were places in the Rift that were untouched by people, places of beauty that she’d love to see…

Her soft gasp pulled me from the reverie. Cirri stood at the far edge of the clearing, frozen in place with her back to me. Her hands moved jerkily: Hello? 

There was an enormous, pale splotch in the trees, half-hidden by sprays of pine. It moved, the scent of salt and leather filling my nose.

The fiend stepped into the clearing, ice blue eyes fixed on my wife, his pupils dilated to the thinness of a thread.

“Wroth. Brother.” The relief that swamped me at the sight of one of my fellows, my brothers in blood and war, was unexpected. It had been ten long years since any of us had really seen each other, ten years since we’d signed our lives away for the Blood Accords, all standing together and knowing that from that moment on, we would never be the same. Ten years since I’d convinced them to become fiends alongside me.

And none of us had looked to the future; we had seen only the glory of war, the pride of taking thrones.

I still remembered Wroth at that table like it was yesterday, a powerful vampire with the stamp of the far north all over him, bones braided into his long white hair, blue eyes flashing as he roared with delight at the legions of wargs to come.

Before he became this.

His upper lip was split into a true muzzle to show his fangs, ears more rounded than mine. He was still frost and snow, with a thick mane of white hair streaming down his spine, and a short, velvety coating of white fur over pale skin.

My muscles tensed as he gazed at Cirri, giving no sign he had heard me. I studied him, relief becoming alarm.

There was no sign of the Wroth I knew in this fiend, his eyes blazing with bitterness and hate, his lips curled up to display sharp teeth.

But Cirri trusted me, she trusted my word: she stood her ground, gazing up at him, already raising her hands to speak.

I moved without thinking, leaping the distance of the clearing and almost knocking her over when I landed. I rose to my full height, baring my fangs at the fiend. Dread, unease rippling in my veins, bringing on the fuller form of the transformation; my skin burned as my body began to build its organic armor, my fangs lengthening, shoulder blades itching as wings tried to grow.

“Wroth!” I grabbed Cirri, shoving her behind me. I heard her intake of breath, heard the rip of fabric, but gave it no thought.

Until the soft, sweet scent of blood filled the air. Wroth’s nostrils flared, his back straightening. A powerful tail, tipped with long, silky white fur, lashed behind him.

“If you touch her, brother, I will end you without regret.” My voice was below a growl, nothing but the guttural rumble of a fiend’s speech.

Wroth’s eyes finally slid to me, and the hostility in his smile… I couldn’t lie. It hurt that a fiend as close as my own kin, my own blood-brother, would feel such hate.

“Would you?” he asked, his voice as rough and mangled as my own. “How can you have no regrets, Bane? I can save you from hell.”

I stared at him, torn between seeing the damage I’d done to Cirri with my own cursed hands, and protecting her from a mad fiend. Ancestors, if I’d let her walk any further on her own, trusting in my own blind preconceptions about my brother…

This was not the Wroth I knew.

“This is no hell,” I said, feeling a soft touch on my shoulder. “Who are you? What has happened to you?”

He snarled, the sound silencing the few birds who had dared venture near. “I am your brother, and the damned Accords happened! I don’t wish my pain on you, Bane—let us end it now, for your sake.”

It was surreal, a dream world that made no sense, and as the mind of a fiend drifted over my uppermost thoughts, I welcomed it—I didn’t want to be of a sane, conscious mind when I did what I’d have to do.

I didn’t want to remember destroying a vampire I’d once trusted with my life.

But the soft touch on my shoulder grew stronger—Cirri patted me, sidling past my outstretched arm.

Bane, don’t do this, she said, signing with bloodied fingers. I sucked in a breath at the sight of that bright, wet redness. He’s your brother. You’ll regret it forever if you do. Whatever happened to him, he needs your help, not your anger.

I exhaled, staring at her hands, trying to release my rage. “He would kill you, my lady.”

No, she said, eyes bright with desperation and pain. He’s hurting. Can’t you see it?

I couldn’t stand her being so close to him, only an arm’s length away from fatal harm—I reached for her, taking her in my arms once more, and found where I’d slashed her with my claws. Her upper arm was damp with fresh blood, a scent that made my mouth water, but she didn’t pull away.

It’s shallow, she signed. No more than a scratch.

Wroth recoiled at the sight of my human bride nestled against me, his claws flexing uncertainly at his sides.

What was it about her that brought his blood up? Why her?

I slowed my racing heart, made a decision.

“If you touch Cirri, I will destroy you, brother or not.” I met his pale blue eyes, his bitterness giving way to furious confusion as he looked between me and my wife. “Don’t force my hand.”

To my surprise, he laughed, a harsh sound. He shook his hands out, the hostility fading, replaced by bewilderment and a cynical expression. “So I was wrong? We’ll see. Time will prove me right, brother.”

“I have no idea what you speak of,” I growled, clutching Cirri closer—she was trembling slightly.

“She will make your life a living misery.” Wroth snarled the words, stepping forward so he was nearly spitting them in her face. “You will beg the ancestors for this moment again, so I can end it before it begins!”

My teeth ached; I carefully maneuvered Cirri aside. That was enough.

I would hate myself forever, but I would not allow a fiend to live who threatened her, brother or not.

But Cirri refused to be moved. She planted her feet, like she was one of the pines who had been here for a hundred years or more, and looked Wroth right in the eye.

If I’m making his life a misery, that’s between Bane and myself, she told him. As for you—you can either move out of my face and behave like a civilized person, or my husband will kill you. I would prefer the first option, if only because I don’t want to see him suffer for your delusions. Make your choice: act right, or sit outside all night like a spanked dog. It’s all the same to me.

Wroth’s lip twitched, revealing the glimmer of teeth. “What did she say?”

“She told you to stop acting like a toothless infant deprived of a tit.” I was gratified by the astonishment in his eyes as he peered at her again. “So what will it be? You’re always welcome, Wroth—but not if you treat my wife like this in her own home. If I can’t trust you, you have no place here.”

The fiend took a step back, pacing over the needles Cirri had trod moments before. She stroked my arm as Wroth thought it over, shooting her the occasional opaque glance.

Clearly he’s had troubles of his own, she told me, keeping one eye on him. He’s expecting these same troubles from me. And if he’s willing to kill me… well, it must be pretty bad. I’d hear him out, Bane.