Chapter 3: The Stranger's Kindness

A month feels like a lifetime when you're waiting for something.

I count the days. Twenty-eight of them. I mark each one on a small piece of paper I hide under my mattress. The other servants think I'm crazy when I keep looking at the sky, trying to see if the moon is getting fuller.

Tonight, finally, the moon is full again.

I wait until everyone is asleep. The pack house is quiet and dark. I slip out through the back door and run toward the river. My feet know the way now. Left at the dead oak. Right past the three stones. Straight until the water appears.

I'm breathless when I reach the river. Both from running and from nervousness.

The water is silver under the moonlight. Everything is quiet except for the sound of the river flowing. I stand at the edge, my heart hammering in my chest.

"Come back for me?" A voice says from across the water.

I spin around. Stark steps out of the shadows on the vampire side. He's wearing the same black clothes as before. In the moonlight, his pale skin almost glows.

"I wasn't sure you'd be here," I say.

"I said I would be," he replies. "And I always keep my promises. Especially to beautiful girls."

I feel heat creep up my neck. "That's not true."

"That I keep my promises or that you're beautiful?" He moves closer to the water's edge but doesn't cross. Smart. If he crosses into our territory and gets caught, it could start a war. "Because I'm very confident about both."

"You're a flirt," I say, trying to sound annoyed but probably failing.

"Is it working?" He grins and I can see his fangs in the moonlight. Instead of being scared, I think they're kind of beautiful.

"No," I lied.

"Liar," he says, echoing his words from before. "Come closer. I want to see you better."

I wade into the water. It's cold around my ankles, then my calves, then my knees. The current pulls at me gently. Stark watches me the entire time. His dark eyes track my every movement.

"Stop," he says when I'm about halfway across.

I stop.

"Let me see your arms," he says.

I look down at them. There are bruises everywhere. Purple and yellow and green. Some are old. Some are fresh from this morning when I was beaten for moving too slow in the laundry room.

"Who did this to you?" Stark's voice is different now. It's not flirty anymore. It's sharp and angry.

"It doesn't matter," I say.

"It matters to me." He takes a step into the water. "Tell me."

"Why do you care?" I ask. "You're a vampire. We're supposed to hate each other."

"Maybe I'm tired of the rules," he says. "Maybe I like talking to you more than I like following what the elders tell me to do."

I don't know what to say to that. My heart is doing weird things in my chest.

"Are they from your own pack?" he pushes.

I nod slowly.

"Your own people are hurting you and you're still protecting them?" His voice is harsh. "Why?"

"Because I have nowhere else to go," I say quietly. 

"Because if I leave, I'll die alone in the forest. Because no one cares enough about me to make it better, so I just... accept it."

Stark is quiet for a long moment. Water swirls around his knees now.

"I care," he finally says.

The words hit me differently. No one has ever said those words to me. Not since my parents died.

"You don't know me," I say, but my voice is shaking.

"I know you enough," he replies. "I know you're brave because you keep surviving. I know you're kind because you could have screamed for help and gotten my ass executed, but you didn't. I know you're beautiful, though that's probably obvious to everyone except you." He steps closer. "And I know that I want to see you again next month."

"That's crazy," I say. "This is crazy. We shouldn't be talking."

"Probably not," he agrees. "But here you are. And here I am. And I don't want to leave."

I move a bit closer. We're maybe ten feet apart now.

"Why are you alone in dangerous territory?" I ask, turning his first question back on him. "Shouldn't there be other vampires with you?"

"I like the quiet," he says. "Away from all the politics and the rules and the expectation of what I'm supposed to be. Here, on the border, it's just me and the night and now you."

"Don't you get lonely?" I ask.

"Terribly," he admits. "But I'm not anymore. Not if you're here."

I bite my lip. There's something about him that makes me forget all the reasons I should be afraid. Something that makes me want to move closer instead of running away.

"What's your full name?" I ask. "You just said Stark last time."

"Stark Aldric Nightborne," he says. "But you can just call me Stark. Or 'that arrogant vampire bastard,' depending on what you're in the mood for."

I laugh. It sounds strange coming from me. I can't remember the last time I laughed.

"Did you just laugh?" Stark looks delighted. "I made you laugh. That's my new favorite thing."

"Don't let it go to your head," I say, but I'm smiling.

"Too late. Way too late." He splashes through the water toward me. "You have no idea how much I've been thinking about you this past month."

"That's not healthy," I say, but I don't move away as he gets closer.

"Probably not," he agrees. "But then again, I'm a vampire. I'm not supposed to be healthy. I'm supposed to be dangerous and mysterious and completely inappropriate for girls like you."

"Is that what you are?" I ask. We're five feet apart now.

"Absolutely," he says. "I kill things. I drink blood. I've done terrible things. I'm basically the villain in every story your pack tells about monsters." He tilts his head. "But when I'm around you, I don't want to be any of those things. I want to be someone you might actually like."

"I might already like you," I say before I can stop myself.

His smile is huge. "That's the best thing anyone's ever said to me."

"Don't be dramatic," I say, but I'm blushing hard now.

"I'm not being dramatic. I'm being serious." He steps closer. Now we're two feet apart. If I reached out, I could touch him. "What's your name, Roselyn? Your full name?"

"Roselyn Morgan Faine.”

"Roselyn Morgan Faine," he repeats, rolling it around on his tongue like wine. "That's beautiful. Seriously. Strong. It fits you."

"How would you know what fits me?" I ask. "You've known me for about five minutes."

"I've had a month to think about you," he says. "I've imagined what you might say. What you might laugh at. What makes you sad or angry or happy? And I've been right about everything so far, haven't I?"

I don't answer because he's right. About everything. Which is scary and thrilling at the same time.

"Tell me something," he says. "Something true. Something you've never told anyone."

I think about it. Really think about it.

"I hate my life," I finally say. "I know that's pathetic and ungrateful, but I do. Most days I wake up and wish I could just... not exist. That's true."

Stark doesn't say anything for a long moment. Then he reaches out and takes my hand. His skin is cold but not uncomfortable. It's like ice that somehow feels like warmth.

"I'm glad you exist," he says. "Even on the days you don't want to. I'm glad because now I get to talk to you."

"That's a line," I say softly.

"It is," he admits. "But it's also true. I mean every word."

We stand there, holding hands, with the river flowing around us and the moon watching from above.

"We should meet again," he says. "Next full moon. Here."

"That's a month away," I say.

"I know," he replies. "And I'll hate every second of it. But it'll be worth it to see you again."

"This is dangerous," I say. "If anyone found out–"

"Let them," Stark interrupts. "Let them find out that a vampire and a werewolf talked across a river and didn't try to kill each other. Maybe it'll shock them into realizing that we're not all monsters."

"You really are arrogant," I say.

"But charming, right?" He grins. "You can admit it. I won't tell anyone."

"Fine," I say. "You're charming. A little bit."

"I'll take it," he says. "Next month, Roselyn Morgan Faine. Don't be late."

"What if I don't come?" I ask, testing him.

"You will," he says with absolute confidence. Because you want to see what happens next. I can feel it."

He's right and I hate it

"Goodbye, Stark Aldric Nightborne," I say, pulling my hand away.

"Not goodbye," he says. "Just until next month."

I wade back to my side of the river. When I reach the shore, I look back. Stark is still standing in the water, watching me.

"Roselyn," he calls out. "One more thing."

"What?" I turn back.

"If anyone ever hurts you again, I want you to tell me. All right? I know I can't do anything about your pack, but if anyone ever crosses the line, you tell me. I'll handle it."

"That's violent," I say.

"Yes," he agrees simply. "That's what happens when you threaten someone I care about."

He cares about me. Already. After knowing me for about ten minutes total.

I nod and turn to leave before I do something stupid.

I ran all the way back to the pack house. The other servants are still asleep. No one knows I was gone. I climb back into bed and lie there, staring at the ceiling, replaying every word he said.

A vampire just told me he cared about me. And I believed him.

More than that, I wanted him to.

I'm smiling so hard my face hurts when I finally fall asleep.

But what I don't know is that I wasn't as alone at the river as I

thought. Deep in the forest, hidden in the shadows, a dark figure watched the entire interaction.

A figure with cold eyes and a cruel smile.

A figure who now knew exactly where to find me.