Rahlan takes slow steps with his hands behind his back, his sword in its sheath, and his gaze over the weary humans.

The young girl is hugging her brother, keeping his head below her chin. A few others are holding hands and huddling up, as if they could save each other from being taken. I could've been just like them, herded out to the village center by giant vampire soldiers, praying they wouldn't kill us and hoping that I wouldn't be the one they picked to use as an example.

Rahlan stops pacing, drawing any eyes that had drifted to us back to him.

"Under the order of King Groel, I am the ruler of this fief. You may address me as Lord Rahlan." He pauses, waiting to see if anyone will dare challenge him.

The villagers look to the ground as Rahlan's gaze passes over them.

"You will have heard many rumors about my kind," he says. The villagers in the front row shudder, possibly catching a glimpse of his fangs. "Rumors that we drain your blood until your bodies are still and dry, that our appetites dictate who lives and who does not."

I had that fear when Rahlan first drank from me – that I'd fade into nothing with his teeth embedded in my neck.

"From our turbulent introduction, you may be inclined to believe those rumors. 'Tis possible that you'd be more cooperative with such a threat. However, order in my land will not be based on fright but deference. I ask that you respect me, my commands and my men, and in return, we shall respect you. Obey and no one will lose their lives, no one will lose their homes, and no one will lose their dignity."

I'm pleased, but I seem to be the only one. The villagers stay frozen, clinging to one another like they're expecting to be dragged away and eaten.

"I understand that you may find that difficult to believe," Rahlan continues, "Human's living peacefully under vampires – preposterous. But consider that vampires have lived for generations before you, each consuming blood from plenty of humans. If we simply murdered, we would soon starve. Thousands of humans live content lives in our nation, and now that our nation has expanded, that will include you all."

The villagers glance at each other, quiet whispers bouncing between them.

"Blood," Rahlan says, drawing their frightened eyes back to him, "'Tis a topic most certainly on your mind. As you know, my men and I require blood for sustenance. Each day, we shall enter a home and take our fill. It will involve no more than a prick of your skin and minutes of your day. We shall take care not to endanger your health, and I'm told that it's no worse than a slight sting."

They don't look particularly happy at that. I also hated having my blood drawn at first, but I'd be lying if I said it did anything more than drain a little energy. The thought that I was being served up as a commodity was the worst part about it.

"My first command is a curfew," he continues, "Do not venture beyond the housing perimeter after dark. 'Tis for your own protection, as I suspect a new danger may soon occupy the surrounding wilderness."

The villagers look to one another. It has to be ravagers. We encountered them near the Gaultane river, and while it may have been close to the vampire border, it was still within my country. Rahlan said they were banished from their towns, but he didn't seem too surprised to see them wandering about. I figure the normal vampires tend to leave them alone, and with no human lords to keep them out of our land, they're moving in.

"As a precaution, one of my men will be stationed here each night," he says. "This is a threat with which we have much experience warding off, and with your cooperation, we can assure your safety."

My thoughts are drawn to the house at the end of the road. I can't imagine a vampire like Keld offering any protection for humans.

Rahlan points to the castle. "If any of you, man or woman, old or young, have a matter that causes you great distress, seek me." Finished with his announcements, he turns his back to the villagers and returns to the wagon.

They stand and slowly spread out, none of them daring to move any closer to the vampires. I rush to the young girl and her brother before they can disappear.

"Stay hidden until you're sure that the vampire has left your house," I say.

She bites her lip.

"Julia!" Rahlan calls from the wagon. He's ready to leave.

I pat the girl on the shoulder and return to him. My bruised stomach groans as I climb up onto the driver's seat. I wish I'd been wearing my armor.

The blond-haired vampire makes himself comfortable in the cavity behind us.

"Julke," Rahlan says, catching his attention. "Keld's recovering from an encounter with my boot. Please ensure he returns to the castle without endangering himself or others."

So Keld can't take his anger out on the villagers. Good.

"Of course." Julke grabs his coat and hops out the wagon. "What did he do?"

Rahlan wraps an arm around me, sliding me to sit beside him. "He went further than an arrest."

Julke smirks, "I warned the fool." He leans against a house and crosses his arms. Two villagers which were headed for the building quickly change direction.

Rahlan tuts Mittens forward, and he tugs us back to the castle.

* * * * * * * *

I squeeze out the blood-soaked rag over a bucket. I'm not cleaning Rahlan's home for his sake, but for mine. It's especially unnerving having to walk past the previous owner's bloodstain every time I want to go outside. It doesn't seem to bother Rahlan, but I suppose he sees it nothing more than spilled food.

He steps around me, carrying a stack of freshly chopped wood inside. That's a task I don't envy. Sometimes Jacob would be gone for longer than expected, then the wood he'd collected would run out, and I'd have to chop more myself. The bite of the axe would always make my hands ache.

He packs the wood in the fireplace. I dump the dirty water outside and quickly close the door behind me, hoping to keep the cold evening air out.

Soon the fire's lit, and I'm digging through the kitchen cabinets in search of an evening snack.

"I collected a meal for you," Rahlan says. He's sitting on the couch, his gaze on the fire with one leg resting sideways over the other.

I place his bag on the counter and open it up. It's full of leaves. Scratching around in them yields nothing but more leaves. There's a smirk on the corner of his lips.

"Very funny," I say.

He raises his hand from behind the couch, revealing a fresh pear.

I snatch the green fruit out of his hand before he has a chance to mess with me further. He appears unbothered, focused on his book.

I sit beside him on the couch and make quick work of the sweet fruit. That book looks suspiciously similar to the one he was reading to me last night.

I nudge closer to him to get a better look. I can't interpret the words, but that's definitely the same leather binding. "You're reading ahead without me."

"You fell asleep last time," he says.

"I was tired."

He raises an eyebrow. "And comfortable?"

My gaze jumps to the fire. I don't want to give him the satisfaction, but it was comfortable laying on his lap.

He straightens his legs and lifts the book out of the way. I lay down on his lap without making eye contact. The orange flames warm my nose. If I lie on his lap, then he reads to me – that was the deal.

He opens the book again, the pages shearing over one another as he searches. "Do you remember the boat trip?" he asks.

I shake my head.

"Harris's race with his friend?"

"No."

"The speech?"

"I think I was already gone."

He chuckles. "You didn't last long."

I avoid meeting his gaze. Falling asleep on his lap is embarrassing enough, but the fact that I was so comfortable that it happened almost immediately is even worse.

"What about the dinner?" he asks.

"I remember that."

"Then we'll start there." He turns a few pages. "Harris snuck through the kitchen to the dining room, eager to avoid his mother and any chores she may be looking to bestow upon him. The chair rumbled as he took his seat at the table, shattering any chance of trying to be covert."

Rahlan rests his hand on my middle, his fingers absentmindedly caressing me as he reads. He's near the bruise from Keld's attack, but his touch is so light that it doesn't cause any discomfort. A few weeks ago, I'd have been stiff from fear from being so close to him, the vampire soldier who kills with his sword, but now my body has no desire to move.

Rahlan turns the page before continuing, "'Harris get back here and serve!' his mother shouted. He dragged his feet back to the kitchen."

Rahlan may have been a little too ambitious of a lumberjack today. The fire's too hot at this distance. I turn over to face his shirt instead, letting my hair shield me from the heat.

"'News of you and that girl better not reach my ear again,' Harris's father warned," Rahlan reads, "Harris shifted in his seat. 'I bet he's eager to make the beast with two backs,' his sister chimed in, earning a scowl from the rest of the table."

"What's a beast with two backs?" I ask, looking up at Rahlan.

He places the book on the armrest. "You must've been raised by monks," he says.

"Why? What is it?"

He raises one hand, "Imagine this is Harris."

I nod.

He lifts his other hand, "and this is the princess." His hands snap together as if he was praying. "Two backs."

"Right," I squeak, averting my eyes and pulling my dress up to my nose. If my cheeks weren't red before, they are now.

He chuckles and picks up the book again. "His sister was always out to get him in trouble."

* * * * * * * *

My cheek is pressed against something warm. I sit up and stretch my arms over my head. This is the bedroom. I don't remember getting up off the couch last night, meaning I may have fallen asleep on his lap a second time.

He's laying beside me, and the smirk on his face confirms my theory.

I slide my legs out from under the blanket and sit on the side of the bed.

"Sleep comfortably?" he says.

My lips make a thin line.

He brushes the top of my hand. "Come closer. Let me drink."

Maybe I am getting too comfortable. Maybe I shouldn't be so complacent. I hop off the bed, stepping away from him and into the morning sunlight.

We stare at one another. His eyebrows draw together when he realizes that I don't plan to be such easy prey this morning. I fail to hold back my smirk.

The cold air nips at my skin. I'm still in my bra and underwear. My eyes land on my leather pants lying on the chest. Noticing the shift in my attention, he jumps out of bed, ready to catch me if I try lunge for them.

He steps forward, prompting me to spin around and spring for the door. I yank it open and bolt through the living room.

His footsteps thunder behind me. I skid around the corner, bumping into the wall as I shoot down the passage to the servants' bedrooms.

I glance back. His hand is just inches away! My feet trip over themselves. I brace myself to hit the ground, but he catches my arms and lets me down slowly.

My back tenses as the cold stone touches my skin. He straddles my legs, trapping me under him. The passage has no windows to let the sunlight in, making the air extra chilly. He's no more dressed than me, so he must be just as cold.

His smirk is back. I'd guess it's satisfying for him when he has to chase his prey, like a cat after a moth, stimulating his natural instincts.

His hands land on my sides, and I try wiggle away from his ticklish touch.

"You must be disciplined for your insubordination." His fingers lightly touch my skin, forcing a giggle out of me. He works his hands up and down to tickle my sides.

I clamp my arms down with a laugh to try stop the movement. His hands shoot down along the outsides of my thighs. I tense my arms straight down my sides, shielding everything.

My stomach is off-limits due to the bruise, and I shrug my shoulders up to hide my neck. He tries along the outside of my arms, but I can resist laughing.

Not willing to move my hands and risk exposing my ticklish sides, I blow my hair out of my face. I'm smiling again, both from the tickling and from the fact that I've thwarted his plan.

He sits straight. "Arm's up."

I shake my head, but claiming victory already may have been overeager on my part.

He leans back and reaches for something. The subsequent feeling under my feet makes me want to explode. I squeal and try to jerk my legs free from his tickling fingers.

He's too heavy. My arms shoot up over my head in a bid to get the attention off of my soles. He continues on my feet for an extra few seconds before moving forward to tickling under my arms.

The feeling makes me cry out with laughter. My arms snap down against my will, unable to ignore his fingers' assault. I struggle to resist the urge to clamp my arms tight because I know it'll just prompt him to return to my feet.

"Sto-" My own squeak cuts me off. I try to contort my torso away from his hands, but he has me pinned.

"Do you wish to be bitten?" he asks.

"Yes!" I shout through my laughing, eager for the tickling to end.

His hands relent, and I can finally stop giggling. My chest is moving up and down with rapid breaths, and my muscles feel like I've just run a lap around the castle wall.

He leans in, bringing his mouth to my neck. I close my eyes and let myself relax.

* * * * * * * *

I finish stitching up my tunic after breakfast. Dresses aren't suitable attire for a human surrounded by vampires.

There's a knock on the front door when my tunic is halfway over my head. I pull it in place, the familiar weight returning to my shoulders.

Rahlan opens the door, revealing Julke. I hurry to stand beside Rahlan. The more the soldiers see me beside their commander, the less they'll try challenge me.

"A citizen at the gate requests an audience," Julke says.

"Bring them in. I'll see them here," Rahlan says.

Julke waves to the soldiers on the walls, and Rahlan takes a seat on his throne.

The front door opens wide, and the Maksan twins march a frightened old man inside, each of them holding an arm. At least it's not Keld. I watch the guards from the sideline as they push the man before Rahlan's dais. He could've walked on his own without their manhandling.

It's the old man who I tried to calm in the village. The guards take a step back, and the man kneels before Rahlan. Either he's trying to be respectful, or his knees fell out from under him.

"State your name and matter," Rahlan says.

The man glances at the three vampire soldiers behind him. His eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open.

"It-it is nothing," he stutters and turns to leave. The soldiers step together, blocking his path.

Rahlan rubs his brow in frustration. "Name and matter," he repeats, his voice lower.

The man's eyes jump around the room looking for an escape. Whatever confidence he had mustered up to make it to the castle gate has evaporated.

I move from my position by the pillar and take his hand.

His nervous gaze lands on me.

"I'm Julia. I live here with Lord Rahlan," I gesture to the impatient vampire sitting on the raised chair. "Who are you?" I ask with a smile.

"Francis," he says with a little more confidence. I figure it's less frightening to talk in front of a group of vampires when there's another human by your side. If I was in his position, not knowing Rahlan or any vampire, I'd be scared wordless too.

"What matter have you brought?" Rahlan says.

The color drains from the man's face again.

"We're here to help," I say, keeping his hand in mine.

He swallows a lump in his throat. "My son... He fled yesterday and has not yet returned."

I bet that he ran at the sight of Rahlan approaching the village, and Francis doesn't have the confidence to add any details that might offend his vampire lord.

Rahlan remains silent, studying the man.

"I fear for his safety," the man says.

Rahlan rises from his seat. "Show us his path."