รวมเรื่องสั้นฟิน (1) แซ่บ 25+

My phone buzzed in my palm.

A reply flashed across the screen.

"Ms. St. Clair, the convoy is on its way."

A few seconds later, another message came through.

"Mr. Blackthorn is on his way as well."

I stared at the words "Mr. Blackthorn" for a long moment before the name behind them finally registered: Theodore Blackthorn.

Seven years ago, I had run away to Ravenmist to escape my engagement to Theodore.

That year, the hunters' purge came without warning. Holy-silver traps lit up across the forest overnight. I got lost in Blackpine Woods behind the cemetery, with no signal on my phone and a silver chain cutting into my ankle until I could no longer feel my foot.

Just when I thought I would die in the fog before dawn, Silas found me.

He carried me on his back all night, rain clinging to his lashes and his lips white as marble, hoarsely urging me to hold on the entire way.

"Don't fall asleep. You'll be safe once we get back to the manor."

In time, I truly came to think of this place as home.

I made him the only family I had.

But only moments ago, I'd heard it from his own lips. Vera's name was on the blood oath sash.

He'd said, "Evelyn won't find out. And even if she does, she won't dare do anything about it."

Standing in the cold mist, I suddenly had no idea what the last seven years had meant.

The door swung open.

Silas stepped outside and spotted me in the rain. His brows snapped together.

"Why are you out here in the cold again?"

He strode over to me, unclasped the black velvet cloak from his shoulders and draped it over mine, then took my hands and rubbed them between his palms.

His hands were cold.

Vampires ran cold.

But the gentle pressure of his palms had once made me feel safe.

Sensation slowly seeped back into my frozen fingertips, but my heart sank into the same Blackpine darkness that had swallowed me seven years ago.

Silas looked down at me, a note of reproach in his voice.

"Tomorrow night, you'll be my bride, and you still refuse to take care of yourself?"

My throat tightened.

He was always like this.

Even when he was the reason I hurt, he would give me just enough tenderness right before I broke.

Seven years ago, when the silver chain burn left me with a raging fever, he stayed by my side for three days and nights.

Later, when I was afraid of the dark, he was the one who lit candles in the corridor and waited until I fell asleep.

So I used to be certain that Silas loved me.

Even though everyone said I had ruined Vera's legs, and even though Silas had grown cold and punished me for it, I still believed in him.

I still believed that if I waited long enough, he would believe me, just once.

He took an obsidian cuff link from his pocket and fastened it to the sleeve of my wedding robe.

My name was engraved on the back. He had carved it himself.

Watching his lowered lashes, I felt a sudden, sharp ache in my chest.

"Is the sash tied?" I asked.

Silas's hand stilled.

It was slight, and it lasted only a heartbeat.

The pause was so brief that if I hadn't overheard those words, I might never have noticed.

"It's done," he said.

I looked at him.

"Is it my name on the sash?"

Silas met my eyes, his expression calm.

"Of course."

The rain was loud, yet I heard something inside me shatter.

"I don't want Vera at the ceremony tomorrow night," I said.

The warmth in Silas's eyes slowly faded.

He released my hands, drew my collar closed, and lowered his voice.

"Her legs are in bad shape. Don't make a scene at the ceremony."

"It's my Blood Oath Ceremony," I said.

He fell silent for a moment, weariness pinching the space between his brows.

"Vera lost the use of her legs because of you."

Cold mist seemed to pour straight into my chest.

Looking at him, I suddenly wanted to ask one thing.

Had he ever, even once, believed me when it came to Vera?

But the answer had been staring me in the face all along.

He was willing to marry me, willing to give me a home, but not willing to believe I had never hurt Vera.

Before he left, he tucked the cloak tighter around me.

"Get some rest," he said. "Don't disappoint me tomorrow night."

I stood there and watched him disappear into the candlelit halls, my fingers slowly tightening around my phone.

The screen lit up again.

The St. Clair family had sent another message.

"Ms. St. Clair, should we wait until the ceremony is over?"

My fingers went rigid over the screen before I finally replied.

"No."

"Come for me tomorrow night."