The forest gave way to a dark winding dirt path. She stayed tucked just inside the tree line. Just ahead of her laid fields of tall grass, to the right, the path lay broken by a single lane wooden bridge. Tired and hungry she wavered, coming to rest against the thick trunk of the pine tree behind her. She clutched her arms closer to her chest, assuring herself of the bundle held within them.

She carefully searched the land surrounding her, before swiftly darting among the trees that lined the path. She was positive the person she sought lived off of the Eastern most path of the fork on top of the hill to her left. This was her last hope. She had to reach the house before day broke and she could no longer move through the cover that the moonless night brought her.

Sighing as the house came into view, she slowed her steps. She felt the magic as she crossed the wards and knew that the Guardians would be on their way. That settled well with her, as she had no desire to see him again. She was afraid she would to see the same disappointment on his face that she had seen so many months ago.

She took a deep breath and stilled her walk as two Guardians materialized from the shadows in front of her. "Branka?" One questioned as they drew closer. "Branka, what has happened?" She was hoping the softness of the moonlight would help conceal the fading scratches and bruises that graced her face.

"Milo," Branka stated. "Here, take her to Tihomir. There's a letter inside the blanket. It will answer everything." Laying a kiss upon her daughter's sleeping face; Branka passed the sleeping infant to Milo before turning and running back into the shadows of the tree.

Her daughter now safe, she knew she could accept whatever came from her next task. She would find her Jaromir and save him from his own Strigoi fate, even if it killed her. She had failed him once before, but she would not fail him in this.

Glancing back one last time, she saw the Guardians enter into the house just as rays of pinks and oranges broke the horizon. There was no rush now; Strigoi could not withstand the sun. She slowly made her way back through the forest, back toward the now ransacked village she had called home the last few months.

Branka stopped to rest an hour before the sun began to set. She would need her strength to run and possibly fight once the earth was once again plunged into darkness. This would be the last night that the moon would be full. She needed to make it back home before nightfall tomorrow.

She took one last sip of water and grasped her stake tightly in her hand. Pushing off of the tree she was resting against, she ran. She ran as fast as her weary feet could carry her. Dhampir had a great bit of stamina, but she had been on the move for two days straight. If she reached the village in enough time, she promised herself she would sleep.

Branka kept her pace for the next hour, before slowing into gentle jog as the first rays of light once again greeted the horizon. When the sun broke the tree tops she would stop for needed water and to eat the last piece of stale bread in the pouch to her side.

She had nearly a day's walk before she would reach home, or that which was left of home anyhow. Fighting the exhaustion that was starting to overtake her, Branka broke into a steady jog. She only gave into to the dizziness and fatigue when she collapsed upon the steps of her home.

Crawling through the doorway and closing it behind her, Branka let sleep win over her body for the first time in four days. She awoke hours later, chilled and clutching the rug beneath her. At least the nightmare waited till dusk to claim her. Quickly silencing the scream that had pulled her so strongly from her rest, Branka stood and pulled a loaf of stale bread and jar of jam from the cupboard.

In her famished state, she devoured half the bread loaf and a cup of water. Now she would wait for the sun to rise once more before making her way towards the caves. For tonight though, she would need to keep watch. Jaromir had promised to return and she must be ready. She must turn hear heart as cold and as hard as the sharpened steel that lay against her waist.

Jaromir did not return that night, and so as day broke again for the sixth time since her life had been horrifically altered, Branka set off to the caves in search of him. Finding the mouth of the cave, she tacked a previously written note to a nearby tree.

Jaromir, I am ready to join you. Come to me tonight my love. Forever yours, Branka

Branka made her way back to the house. She readied the common room by lighting oil lamps and candles, hiding a sharpened sword Jaromir's stakes strategically throughout the furnishings. She then bathed and clothed herself in her best dress before arranging her hair in an elaborate braid. Jaromir preferred her hair to hang loose, but she could not afford for it to fall into her face.

As ready as she could be, Branka sat down in a kitchen chair, facing the single door of the cabin. She steadied her breathing and nerves as she waited patiently for her husband.

Jaromir did not disappoint, he entered into the cabin an hour after darkness had set. Branka smiled sweetly. "Jaromir it was rude if you to keep me waiting so long." She whispered in her most sultry voice. She needed to draw him in close in order to carry out her plan.

"Branka, I'm glad you chose correctly. Grab the child so we may be on our way." Jaromir demanded softly, his eyes void of all emotion.

"Do I not get a kiss hello? Has becoming Strigoi stolen your love for me?" She asked as she let tears form in her eyes.

Jaromir shifted his weight and giving her a cutting look, stepped forward a single step. "Do not be ridiculous, Branka, get the child, we must leave soon."

Branka let her head fall into her hands as she forced her shoulders to shake in fake sobs. "I cannot join you in this life if it means I will not ever know your love again." She imitated a soft wail. "Please Jaromir; one kiss is all I ask." Branka allowed a single tear to travel her cheek.

With a snarl Jaromir leapt forward and pulled her from the chair. Branka braced herself as she lifted her face in surprise. Just as Jaromir painfully crushed his lips against her's, Branka drove her stake deep into his heart.

Jaromir fell limply onto the floor and she kneeled down brushing her lips against his forehead. She scattered the whale oil about the room before gulping the glass of poisoned wine sitting on the table. Grabbing a candle, she curled herself around Jaromir's form and closed her eyes. Just as her last breath caressed her lips, the candle slipped from her grasp.

Thirteen months ago Branka had sworn to love and protect her Moroi husband. Twelve months ago their village had been attacked while Branka had taken their daughter to the doctor in the next village over. One month before the attack, she and Jaromir had welcomed a living, breathing manifestation of their love: their beautiful daughter, Anna.