Special thanks to invisible reader and KaiaUchiha1 for their reviews of the last chapter!

Please forgive any errors you may find within this chapter. ENJOY!

Chapter 15: Entwined

Afina was lying on a bed that was not her own, on top of the covers that had otherwise been undisturbed, her head gently cradled by a firm pillow, the fabric cool against her skin. The snows of the central Apennine Mountains had been falling for several hours now. She had left the balcony windows open so she could watch as the dark night sky began to gradually lighten, the coming dawn approaching. With the heavy cloud cover, the only color in the sky was that of grey and the softest of blues. Everything else was shrouded in a blanket of white, the color matching the light chiffon curtains that floated in the wind, the plain-woven sheer fabric appearing more like ghosts.

Try as she might, Afina couldn't shake the unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach, a feeling that had grown at an alarming rate the closer the vampires' war with the Knights of the Holy Order became. They were a single evening away from that fateful event and with it so close, Afina was starting to second-guess her actions of encouraging a war in the first place. She still couldn't fully understand why she had done it to begin with. What was her motivation for encouraging the Count to take part in something that could easily lead to the destruction of so many? Every time she racked her brain for an answer, she was met with nothing but a dull headache – a symptom that reminded her a great deal of when she had been without her memories. Perhaps she hadn't retrieved them all as she had thought? The chances of that being the case were slim. She had no missing moments, no lost hours in her memory; but even with such an assurance, she still felt terribly uneasy.

The icy wind felt good on her skin, however, and she relished in it, continuing to watch as the sky gradually grew lighter. She reflected back on the last two weeks – how quickly they had flown. The elders of the bloodlines had rapidly become family to her – closer than any other family she had ever known when she had been mortal. Her uncle, Dragoş, had doted on her whenever he could, never sparing any expense, and his wife, her aunt Raynora, adored her. Afina had come to learn that Verona, the late bride of the Count, had been like an adopted daughter to them and they had felt her loss tremendously. But having Afina in their lives seemed to help fill whatever hole Verona had left. Not completely, but some, and they could not have been more pleased. The other elders felt the same in regards to their lost daughters, the late brides of Count Dracula. Afina, with her sweetness of manner, and seemingly natural grace, even with her private concerns, made their loss less bitter.

But no matter where Afina went, Vlad had always been by her side. Since the night of his All Hallows Eve ball, something in him had noticeably changed. Although he was still consumed with passion, he never crossed the line she had created the night of the ball. He always treated her with a reverence, adoration, and deep respect that pleased her greatly. Not once had he forced himself upon her – something which genuinely surprised their acquaintances. He doted and revered her like a bride, kissed her with the need and familiarity of a lover, but he treated her like something more – not just an equal, but in a strange sort of way, his superior.

Although the words had never been spoken, she was his and he worshipped her in his own way. Whenever there were any discussions on battle plans or the war with Rome, he made certain that she was always present. His trust in her was so implicit, and his devotion ever so steady, he made it so easy for her to fall in love with him – and fall she had. Afina couldn't imagine her existence without him there, and perhaps it was those intense feelings that were making her so uneasy now? With the war with the Order so close, and victory not guaranteed, despite Dracula's every assurance, Afina still couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps they were rushing into a trap.

Even now, on the eve of battle, she struggled to calm her ill-at-ease mind and had to force herself to focus on the falling snow outside.

She heard the door to the bedchambers open and shut quietly, the sound of hessian boots gently stepping across the stone floor of the ancient castle which was nestled in the heart of the Italian mountains.

"Are you awake?" she heard the Count ask from behind her. She didn't roll over to look at him, but she did reply with a nearly inaudible "yes". She felt him sit down on the other side of the bed, his eyes on her. "It's freezing in here."

"I like the cold," she explained, still staring blankly out the window at the snow-covered peaks. "It helps to clear my head." He was laying behind her now and she made no resistance when he pulled her close to him, his arm draped over her waist.

"You've seemed more uneasy the last few days – more so than before," he noted, and she could feel the breath of his words against her neck.

"I'm just worried that maybe we rushed into this impending war," she admitted, rolling over so she could look at him. "What if this is what the Order wanted all along? What if it's a trap?"

"It's not a trap," he assured her, pulling her close to him again and tenderly kissing her forehead.

"But what if it is?" she asked him, her tone of voice illustrating her concern. "I've been thinking about what you said to me last month – when you asked me what my motivation was for helping you. I can't help but feel that something is horribly wrong, Vlad, with this entire situation. What if the Order knew what I was, who my father was? What if they're using me to get to you, or to Dragoş, or any of the other elders? What if I'm the trap?"

He chuckled.

"I'm serious!" she insisted. "Vlad, I went almost a month and a half having no idea who I was. What if I didn't get all of my memories back?"

"You are not a trap, my bellator," he replied with a laugh in his voice as he tried to console her. "As honey coated as you are."

"But what if you're wrong?" she pleaded, sitting up. "Maybe I shouldn't go with you. Maybe I shouldn't go to Rome. You should send me someplace else, someplace far away."

"You aren't going anywhere," and he pulled her back down so she was lying with her head cradled in his arm, his face perched over hers. "Afina, I want you beside me."

"But Vlad…"

"Woman, for once in your life, just… listen," he contended, a gentle look of teasing in his eyes before his expression grew more serious. He looked into her eyes for several long silent moments. He would never tire of looking into those irises – it was as though she had somehow managed to trap the entire ocean in them, with waves of turquoise and cerulean swirling together, woven with streams of lightning before falling into the black abyss of her pupils. The back of his fingers caressed her cheek with a tenderness that gradually soothed her. Who was this man leaning over her, she thought to herself. She had seen glimpses of him from a far over the last year or so, but never this close, and never with the look that was in his eyes in that moment. This wasn't the Count Dracula the world feared and revered.

"Do you remember when you accused me, most vehemently, that in my extended existence I had run out of things to live for?" he asked her.

"It was at Vilkova – the night Elizabeth arrived."

He nodded and continued.

"You were partially correct that evening when you said that in my lifetimes of living I had run out of things to live for, that all I had left was my revenge. And had you said those words to me a year ago, you would have been completely and utterly accurate in your assertion. I think you believed me devoid of feeling."

"I was frustrated with you and had spoken out of turn," she apologized.

"I understand that, and I'm sure much of your frustration could have been avoided if I had been honest with you from the beginning. But I am not the kind of man to offer myself to another and what I've come to feel for you is something I've felt in degrees for others, but never like this – never so wholly and so completely." He rested his forehead tenderly against her own, their eyes closed as they breathed one another in, the only sound being that of the winter wind in the snow-laden forest in the mountains outside.

"Afina, when I was alive, both of my marriages were arranged. As a vampire, the selections of my brides were politically motivated. They were pawns in a game for power and though I was fond of them, I did not feel for them the way I've come to feel for you. And I think that may be because I didn't choose them. But you… I chose you. I chose you from the beginning, when you first appeared at my door. Because if I wanted anyone by my side as my ally, if I had to pick anyone to fight alongside, or fight to be with, it would be you. And it would still be you if I had to do it all over again," he whispered, still continuing to sweetly caress her face and hair with his fingertips.

Her eyes were closed, lips gently parted in a breathlessness that he found spellbindingly beautiful.

"It wasn't me that chose the darkness all those years ago, Afina, but the other way around. You are the only light I've had in that darkness and if I have to destroy the Order to ensure that I can spend the remainder of my existence with you, if it means risking a trap or the destruction of my kind, I'll do it because you've come to be all I have to live for now. I don't want anything else. But I also know that I can't win this fight without you. I've only gotten this far because of you… I need you at my side."

Her eyes were opened now and she was staring up at him, lost in his gaze, even as his fingertips continued to trace the contours of her face. It felt so good to be in his arms, to be caressed by his touch, to hear this declaration that sounded very much like one of love. Although her instincts still insisted that this fight with the Order was unwise, she offered him a reassuring smile.

"I don't want anyone or anything else, Afina," he said. "I just want you. I want to get lost in you, until I cannot tell where I end and you begin."

There was a deep sensuality to his words and she suddenly couldn't wait for this war to be over and it hadn't even started yet.

"Then by your side I shall be," she said. "On one condition."

"And what might that be?" he grinned mischievously, kissing her gently.

"When all of this is over, I want a break from society – a long break. Someplace cold, in the mountains and hidden away. Just you and I."

"I know just the place."

"What? Castle Dracula?" she teased, kissing his hand.

"That's exactly what I mean," he replied, his fingers gently brushing against her parted lips. "A fortress carved out of a single peak in the heart of the Carpathians, made of stone and ice."

"I've never heard of this castle."

"Then I'll have to show it to you, when all of this is done."

"How do we get there?" she asked him and she felt him in her mind as he shared memories of the journey with her – just flashes of images, to wet her appetite.

"There is a hidden trail, deep in the mountains, in the thickest part of the forest," he began, his voice soft, deep, and soothing – almost hypnotic. "The trail is often buried in several feet of snow off of the Borgo pass. It is too narrow for any carriage or horse to travel and it winds through the mountains for several miles and ends at a massive cliff that falls several thousand feet down into a gorge. The only way to get to the castle is to fly."

"Does anyone else know about this place?" Her voice was almost a dreamy sigh.

"A select few. The journey is long and difficult and it's easy to get lost in the snow when taken on foot. Those that fly and do not know what they are looking for often pass it, as the castle blends in with the peaks, often shrouded by thick clouds. I rarely, if ever, receive any visitors there."

"Sounds perfect."

The dark look in his eyes spoke of his approval of her reaction and he leaned over her more fully and captured her lips with his. The kiss was almost timid, so gentle, yet so full of veneration, Afina felt herself become light-headed. His mouth then hovered over hers for several long moments as they breathed one another in, lips barely touching, both struggling with their individual passions. She lifted her head to kiss him, but he moved his head away from hers, almost playfully.

"If I kiss you anymore like this, I can't guarantee that I'll be able to restrain myself," he clarified, answering her unasked demand for an explanation. "Heaven help me, I want you."

She always loved it when he spoke in his native tongue, the words always rolled past his lips almost sensually.

"You are beyond heaven's help," she teased.

"That doesn't change what I feel, because I swear, only God Himself will be able to restrain me."

"What's this? The great Count Dracula, reduced to submitting to a God he's renounced?" she chuckled and she rolled over so she could pin him beneath her.

"Only because I've never fallen before," he confessed. "I couldn't stop myself from hitting the ground if I tried."

"Don't worry. I'll catch you," and she kissed him fully and deeply, his fingers entwined with hers on the bed. Her kisses made it feel like a storm was rising beneath his skin – as if she was the moon and he was the ocean. He resisted the hold of her hands with relative ease and sat up with her still straddling his waist. The way his mouth moved against hers, the way his tongue caressed and explored the inside of her mouth, made her warm down to her toes. His hands smoothed up her sides, drinking in the feel of the silk nightgown she was wearing before his hands found her naked spine. The feeling of his palms and fingers on her skin sent a bolt of electricity through her body, that energy only intensifying when his mouth found her neck.

The lowest he went was to her collarbone until he found that sweet spot right where her shoulder curved up into her neck and he suckled the skin, licking and raking his teeth over the flesh until it flushed from the abuse. He teased her neck and shoulder with little love bites that slowly began to drive her wild and her fangs lengthened in her arousal.

"Bite me," she pleaded he ravished her neck.

The command caught him off guard and he stopped for a moment, looking up into her eyes. They were glowing that electrified blue and were drunk with desire.

"Are you certain?" he inquired, taking the side of her face in his hand. He watched as she lifted a clawed finger and scratched the skin of her throat, one long line that erupted with her dark blood. He watched as it dribbled from the self-inflicted wound, the dark crimson slowly running over her collarbone in a little stream.

"Feed from me, Vladislaus," she commanded him. "Feed from me like I'm your last meal, like we're going to die tomorrow night and this is your only chance to have me. With the morning sun as our witness that no matter what happens in Rome, we'll have this. We will always have this."

Afina knew the gravity of what she was asking for. With all of his speeches about choosing her and needing her, here was his one chance to prove how much he meant it – and in the most intimate of ways for a vampire. It was strange, though, because he didn't need to be told twice, didn't need a moment to contemplate the significance of it all. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he bent his head down and pressed his tongue at the end of the stream of blood that was now making its way over the mound of one breast and he followed that stream all the way up to the source, licking the cut clean just as it closed. The small taste of her blood excited him and his fangs lengthened in his mouth. He dragged his open, breathless mouth over the curve of her neck and shoulder, breathing in her gently perfumed. He soon found the perfect place to sink his fangs and he teased her by grazing the sharp tips over her flesh before biting down.

The pain felt delicious to Afina, and she held his head in place as he devoured mouthfuls of her rich blood. The taste of her blood aroused him in ways he wasn't prepared for and he felt it all the way down in his groin, spreading like electricity up and down his spine, through every artery, vein, and capillary. Eager for her to feel the same, he pulled his face away from the crook of her neck, quickly removing his shirt before pulling her face down to his neck. Her teeth sank into the flesh above his collarbone and he groaned in a delirious kind of anguish as her tongue pressed against the wound.

Her reaction was similar to his – a delicious kind of ecstasy that spread through her veins like wildfire, the pleasure better than anything she had ever known. When she pulled back for air, breathing deep as if to gain control over herself, he went in for the other side of her neck. The moan that escaped her was deep and long, only inciting his passions further. He offered her his wrist as he fed and felt her bite into it, accepting his offering without a moment's hesitation, drunk with desire, falling back onto the bed. He let her feed from his wrist as he kissed a bloody trail down her front before moving his hand away as he lifted her hips, opening her legs and pushing her nightgown up as high as it would go.

He could feel her watching him expectantly.

He held her gaze as he bent his head down between her legs before sinking his teeth into her femoral artery in her inner thigh just as the sun broke over the horizon, the light flooding the room and bathing their pale limbs in a golden light. The feeling of him drinking from her thigh with the palm of his right hand resting at the apex between her legs was all too much for Afina. The tension that had been mounting inside of her shortly gave way, releasing in a powerful wave that nearly knocked the wind out of her, and for what felt like several long, glorious moments of exquisite agony, it was as though she were amongst the stars. He held her hand the entire time he drank from her thigh, as if to anchor her, her own pleasure soon completing his own.

When it was done, he kissed her thoroughly, tasting his blood in her mouth, leaving him deeply satisfied. He could feel her blood buzzing inside of him, could feel her pleasure, just as she could feel his. They were connected now – entwined in all ways but in the flesh. He held her in his arms, unable to pry his mouth from hers as they kissed one another, each kiss slow and deliberate until the kisses gradually ceased and he held her close, his arms and legs tangled in her own.

"I am yours," he whispered into her hair and he felt her moist lips press against his chest where his heart was.

"And I am yours."

The two of them lingered like this for several languorous minutes until Afina told him to hold her tighter. When he asked her if she was alright, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into the crook of his neck.

"I still don't feel good about Rome," she confessed. He held her as tightly as he could in an effort to help her feel safe, but her own anxieties about tomorrow evening were starting to make him uneasy.

"I know, my bellator. I know."

Musical Influences:
[1] C'est le ciel qui m'envoie, from Jacques Offenbach's "La Belle Hélène"
[2] Acte Trois - C'est toi, mon père, performed by Renée Fleming and Thomas Hampson, "Massenet – Thaïs"
[3] The Passion of King Henry, by Trevor Morris, "The Tudors" OST
[4] Lucian and Sonja's Love Theme, by Paul Haslinger, "Underworld: Rise of the Lycans" score
[5] Kissing A Wolf, by Johnny Klimek and Reinhold Heil, "Blood & Chocolate" score*
[6] Love In The Eyes, Ramin Djawadi, "Game of Thrones" season 1
[7] Are You The One, by Within Temptation, unreleased song

[ * ] missing from YouTube playlist

Note: some of these songs may seem a bit strange, especially for this chapter - but sometimes a line or a phrase or an image helps to create ideas, so I felt it best to include those, as they were - technically speaking - influences.

Let me know what you thought! Tumblr blog and YouTube playlist have both been update to reflect inspirations for this chapter. Links located in profile page.