The walk to the village was long, but I didn't tire as I had when I was human. The long journey offered me time to be alone with my thoughts, the icy silence broken only by the sound of my cloak sliding over the snow.
Dracula had taken me almost four years ago, the day after my eighteenth birthday. Although my memories of being human were fading, I held fast to the things that were the dearest to me. I had had my mother and father and one younger brother. I remembered what my mother looked like, and I knew that I got my golden-green eyes and slim figure from her. My hair, chestnut threaded with streaks of auburn, came from my father. My brother had my father's face, their brown eyes crinkling at the corners as they laughed. They had both been strong, but soft-spoken, with limitless amounts of kindness for all creatures. For some reason beyond my comprehension, I had been taken away from all that.
Naturally, like all Transylvanian children, I knew about vampires. I knew that Count Dracula lived in the mountains with his brides, and once, I had seen them take someone. It had been late at night, and I had gone out in search of dry wood for the fire. I entered the square and saw one of them holding the butcher by the throat and carrying him away, his screams echoing against the buildings. Sometimes, they took people I knew, and I mourned, but accepted it as a natural part of life. I knew as well that Dracula's brides were from places far away from here. Aleera had told me, once I had joined them as a bride, that she had come from Hungary, Verona came from Italy, and Marishka from Russia.
Two weeks ago, Dracula had taken the man that my family had promised me to, the one that I loved and who loved me. His name was Velkan Valerious, the son of the Gypsy King. I had thought it exciting and romantic to be engaged to a prince, even if he was a gypsy. But soon I realized that he was much more than that, that he was kind and loving, with a wonderful sense of humor and a protective nature. He lived with his sister, for his father had disappeared almost a year before. His sister, Anna, was the very person whose guest I was supposed to spy on. It was a well-known fact that Dracula had come of the Valerious line, and that they were sworn to kill him before they could enter heaven. Anna had done her best to destroy Dracula, but she still hadn't found the secret that could lead to his death.
I sympathized with Anna; her entire family had been killed by this monster, and four years ago, mine had as well. Aleera had told me all about that night not long after I'd been turned. Dracula and his wives had been in the town, looking for their monthly meal. I had made the mistake of walking just beyond the shadows in which they lurked, and they had followed me to my house. His wives had killed my family, drained them of their blood, but Dracula had decided to take me as a bride, to change me into a creature like him. He had stolen everything I had ever cherished, everything I held close, and had left me with nothing but this new, cursed life. Out of all the beautiful women in Romania, why me?
I hated him with all in me that was left to hate, and yet, something strange happened whenever he was near. My stomach seemed to curl in on itself, my muscles coiled and tightened, and sometimes I felt the phantom flutter of my long-still heart. He affected me, and I didn't understand why. I knew that he desired me, that he felt a pang of lust for me. I had learned that Dracula never turned women he didn't lust after. But I had spurned all his advances, made it clear that his touch disgusted me, that I wanted no part of him. In fact, to defy him further, I refused to take a human life to sustain my own. Instead, I hunted for game inside the castle grounds, drinking the blood of animals to slake my thirst. I had a theory as to why he affected me so: That night when he had changed me, he gave me some of his blood, which filled me with life. It was cursed life, life I did not want, but life nonetheless. Perhaps it was his blood in my veins that caused the yearning, that small part of him inside me that wanted him. I did not matter if my theory was true or not. I would not let him have me. Such weakness would be the same as dying again.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice that we had almost reached the village until heart-wrenching cries broke through my reverie. A woman lay crumpled in the snow beside a stone wall, wailing and weeping with the grief of her lost child. I approached her, keeping my face hidden inside my hood. The villagers knew what had happened to my family, and when they had not found my body among them, they had assumed that I was either dead or a new vampire. I didn't want to give them any confirmation or cause to fear me. To them and to myself, I was better off dead.
I knelt in front of her, and she raised her head, her eyes puffy and red. Her eyes didn't linger on my face, but were quickly drawn to the boy wrapped in my cloak. I smiled and laid him in front of her. He stirred and moaned in his sleep. I put a hand on her shoulder and nodded. "He's safe."
With one shaking hand, she touched her child's face, found it soft and warm, and flung herself over him with a cry of relief. After a moment, she looked up at me, smiling through her fresh tears of happiness.
"Thank you."
I left her there with her son and strode away down the snow-dusted path. The Castle Valerious lay on the outskirts of town, and I wanted to be in and out of there as quickly as possible. A confrontation with Anna, who was to be my sister-in-law and who hated vampires more than any human on earth, would not be pleasant for either of us.
At the castle, I leapt noiselessly onto a high window ledge and crept into a small armoury. I could tell by the layer of dust that no one had been in here for a while. I could hear two plain voices, one male and one female. I recognized the female voice as Anna's, and could only assume that the male's was her guest. I opened the door, the creak undetectable to human ears but plain to me, and slunk into the hallway. The door to a large parlor was open, but instead of chairs and tapestries, I saw papers, desks, and weapons scattered over every available surface. I could see Anna's face, but the stranger had his back to me. There was another man in the back of the room, short and nondescript, wearing monk's robes. I paid no attention to him. Anna continued talking, unaware that I was listening.
"Some say you are a murderer, Mr. Van Helsing. Others say you are a holy man. Which is it?"
He spoke then, sighing. "It's a bit of both, I think." His voice had a hint of a growl in it, but was gentle. I could hear exhaustion, both physical and otherwise. I furrowed my brow; his voice was the voice of one who had lived long centuries of war and struggle. Anna strode past him, and as he turned to follow her, I saw his face. He was well-muscled, broad in the chest, but carried with him a grace that was not immediately identifiable. His hair was long, just above his shoulders, and a soft shade of brown. But his eyes were what drew me. They told the stories of times that his age could never have seen, stories of ancient wars and long-dead soldiers. These were eyes that had seen death a hundred times over, and were yearning for the grave themselves. I felt an ache of pity for him, but curiosity as well. What kind of human could hold so much time in his eyes and yet still be so young?
I crept back inside the armory, and stopped dead. There were fresh tracks on the floor, tracks that looked like they were made by a wolf, if not for their size. They were as broad as a human hand, the tracks changing as they moved forward. I crouched, prepared to fight, and then I saw what lurked in the shadows. It was a man, his clothes so ripped and tattered that they barely hung from his muscular frame. I saw his face, recognized it in the dark, and straightened, gasping. It couldn't be who I thought it was, it wasn't possible.
"Velkan?"
Velkan!
He stepped forward, not bringing himself out of the shadows, but closer to me. His eyes widened in surprise. They had changed somehow, but they were still the deep brown-black eyes that I'd fallen in love with. He spoke my name, and his voice was so achingly familiar that I had to choke back a dry sob.
"Romnika?"
I crossed to him, stood in front of him. He took my face in his hands, studying me, as if he couldn't believe it was really me. The warm roughness of his skin brought a flash of beautiful, sweet memory, and I couldn't stop myself from burying my face in his chest, feeling myself coming home as he wrapped his arms around me, resting his cheek on the top of my head.
"How can you still be alive?"
I brought my face up, shaking my head. "It doesn't matter now. All that counts now is that you and I are together again."
We kissed, and I couldn't hold back the sobs now. I shook in his arms, and then he pushed me away. His eyes had hardened, turned cold. He looked at me so strangely, and I wondered if I had done something wrong.
"Did Dracula make you his bride?"
I hung my head. "Yes, Velkan. The night my family was murdered, Dracula took me and changed me. I'm sorry you had to find out this way."
His stern expression cracked, crumbled, and he hid his face in his hands, muttering to himself. "No, no, no. Not you. I never wanted this for you. You weren't supposed to be a part of this world."
I took his wrists, tried to pry his hands away from his face. I knew he was strong, but I couldn't move his arms. That should have alerted me that something was wrong, but I only cared about his anguish. "No, Velkan. I've always been a part of this world. But you are here, and you're alive. I thought you were dead."
I went to kiss him again, and he pushed me away, more firmly this time. "No, no, I can't. I have to find Anna. Where is she?"
I was taken aback. "I-I don't know."
He dashed out of the room, skirting around the small shaft of moonlight that split the darkness. I stood stunned for a moment, my eyes stinging with tears I could no longer shed. The man I had been engaged to marry, the first man I had ever loved, was alive. And I repulsed him. I walked, still dazed, out of the armoury, and heard Anna and Velkan talking in the next room. Anna's voice was excited, even a little frightened, but Velkan's was terrified. I stood in the doorway, watching them. Velkan's eyes burned with urgency, and his hands were clutching her shoulders almost desperately.
"Anna, listen to me! I know Dracula's secret! He has a ma-!"
His words were choked off, and as a beam of moonlight hit him, I saw just how battered he was. His skin was covered in bruises, and shallow cuts criss-crossed all over his chest and abdomen. He backed into the wall, knocking over a table, and I saw his eyes change from dark brown to yellow ochre. He tore at his already tattered shirt, and the expression of pain that distorted his face, both physical and emotional, was agonizing to watch. He threw an arm behind him, and began to crawl up the wall.
"No…no…"
The anguished cries weren't mine, but I felt the same way. Anna had realized, as I had, what had happened to her brother. I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a sob, clenched my teeth, but nothing could keep back my horror.
"No, Velkan, no."
He had become a werewolf.
And there I leave you. Keep reviewing, please! Cheers!
