I woke up in a warm tangle of limbs and hair.

I sputtered. There was hair on my lips. Squinting my eyes open, the first thing I noticed was the sun glaring against the blinds. Then I noticed the black strands of hair occupying a part of my field of vision.

Arthur's hair was all over my face, and the two of us were a warm, twisted pretzel on the bed.

His head was buried in my neck. One of my hands was fisted in his hair. His arms were wrapped around my torso. I couldn't even make sense of our legs.

He smelled so good, I didn't even mind staying this way for a while. I took a deep breath. Now I can indulge in my creepy scent fetish without being embarrassed. There was just one little problem; he was so damn heavy I couldn't draw a proper breath.

I grunted. "Arthur? Wake up, you're crushing me."

He mumbled something and went back to sleep. Seriously? Old immortals did not need much sleep compared to younger ones. I wouldn't have pegged Arthur for a heavy sleeper.

I bore the weight for a few more minutes, then started pulling at his hair. No reaction.

Damn, he really was a heavy sleeper. I wish I had a permanent marker. I snickered at the thought of Arthur walking around the place with graffiti on his face. Hmm...maybe I could have drawn a kitten on his face, complete with pointed ears on his forehead and whiskers on his cheeks.

I laughed harder. That would be priceless.

"Stop laughing."

"You're awake!" I tugged harder on his hair.

"It's hard to stay asleep when your mind is so loud."

"That's silly." I rolled my eyes. "I thought old immortals did not sleep much."

"We don't," he said, not removing his face from my neck, "I haven't slept so deeply since... It was a very long time ago."

"You seemed pretty fine, just now."

He raised his head and looked down at me. His eyes were warm and inviting. His face relaxed to an almost smile that made him look as if he had no care in the world.

"I know," he said, and kept staring at me.

"What?" I touched my face to see if there was drool on it.

His lips twitched up. He kissed the corner of my lips. I stopped breathing. His face was so close, I could make out tiny flecks of lighter brown around the center of his pupils. I'd never known they were there. He rubbed a lock of my hair between his fingers, looking at the strands with fascination.

"Do you have a hair kink?" I asked. He chuckled and rested his forehead on mine with a sigh. It was so natural to wrap my arms around him. The bond was sizzling.

Suddenly, Arthur was no longer there. I blinked.

"Time to get to work," he said, rubbing his face, "let's go."

I sat up and gave a big yawn that would have made any hippo proud.  "What do I do?" I asked, wrapping my arms around my knees, "will you tell ...everyone?"

Charles and Kat weren't my biggest fans. And as much as I didn't care for Charles' affection, he was right. I did endanger Arthur just by being myself. If news of what happened yesterday got out... yeah, that wouldn't go well with a lot of people. It would be easier for them to just get rid of me, and Arthur was in the way. Those who wanted to get to Arthur would find me the perfect justification.

"Alright, that's it," Arthur scowled, "what did Charles tell you yesterday?"

"What makes you think he said anything?"

"I know Charles," he said, "I raised him since he was a child. He feels guilty about something, and it has to do with you."

I snorted. There was no way Charles felt guilty about anything related to me. Arthur looked mutinant. If I didn't tell him, Charles probably would.

"He just opened my eyes to some facts," I grumbled. Arthur waited.

Fine. Stubborn asshole. "He told me you were being targeted for putting yourself between me and the rest of the world. You've always been targeted, and my presence will be the perfect excuse for some immortals to prove the point that you need to be disposed of."

Arthur shook his head. "Honey, I've been dealing with people trying to kill me for centuries."

"Yes, but now they have a justification!" I said, standing up, "now other people might join them. The target on your back just got bigger, and wait until they find out about yesterday's episode!"

"No one will find out about yesterday's episode," he replied in a calm voice, watching as I paced back and forth, "even if they do. No one will touch you or me."

I glared at him. "I know your reputation precedes you. Only an idiot will attack you. But fear makes people do stupid things. I'm putting you in danger."

Arthur raised his brows, looking suddenly bored. "Don't flatter yourself, Elle. A little thing like you won't make such a big threat to my life."

I growled, snatched a pillow from the bed and chucked it at him. Of course, the pillow hovered inches from his face before floating peacefully back to the bed.

"Fine! See if I care!" I stomped toward the bathroom.

"Elle-"

"Just go away, Arthur!" I called, "I'll be out when I'm ready."

I slammed the door. The walls trembled. I didn't know if my anger was because of Arthur's infuriating dismissal of the danger, or if the blood lust had anything to do with it.

I took a deep breath and leaned my hands on the counter. The silver veins in the marble sparkled under the light. I focused on them, the coldness under my palms, the faint scent of shampoo and soap. Peace lasted a second before fury returned with vengeance.

I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. Instead, I turned on the cold water in the shower and stepped in, clothes and all. It didn't make me feel any better. I still wanted to twist Arthur's arm until he saw things from my perspective.

I got out of the shower and looked in the mirror. I looked like an angry, wet puppy. Definitely not a threat. That didn't help my mood at all.

When I next emerged from my room, dry and dressed and armed, Marianno was waiting for me.

He grinned. Two dimples appeared on his cheeks. "My fair lady. I hear you're in a foul mood this morning."

"And who told you that?" I asked, falling into step beside him. We were heading to Arthur's study. I hoped he wasn't there.

"No one," he said, "but the Sire is not in a good mood."

"What? Is he going around cussing at people?"

Marianno laughed. "I'm glad that your sense of humor survived your rather dramatic transformation."

My lips twitched up. He was good company, Marianno. We entered Arthur's study. I looked around near the mini fridge. The floor and the carpet was spotless; there was no trace of blood anywhere.

"Arthur ordered it cleaned as soon as it happened," Marianno said, noticing my frown. He gestured to the chairs near the fireplace. There was a laptop open on the small table between them. We took our seats.

"And to answer your earlier question. The Sire doesn't go around cursing people when he's in a bad mood. He just gets very frosty," he paused, "well, more frosty than usual. Especially with people he's angry at. Right now, Charles is the unfortunate target of his disappointment."

I made a face. "Charles didn't do anything wrong."

"Hmm... that's debatable, I believe," Marianno said, "whether he deserves it or not, Charles is definitely going to think more the next time he decides to run his mouth. Out of all of us, Charles is the most prone to be troubled by Arthur's displeasure."

Arthur had said something about raising Charles from childhood. I sighed. I didn't want to feel bad for Charles, it only complicated things. Ugh, I hated dealing with emotions.

"But his anger wouldn't last long, which is something we should be thankful to you for," Marianno grinned, "the Sire has... how do I put it? Mellowed out since the last time I'd seen him. You have a softening effect on him."

"I don't want to have a softening effect on him," I said. I didn't want to make him weaker.

"Ah, you misunderstand," Marianno said, "or perhaps I did not express myself properly. The effect you have on him is more along the lines of making his control smoother. Before, he always seemed on edge when angry, it takes a great deal of effort to keep the kind of power he holds under control. Now he's more... centered. His control is better, smoother, it doesn't consume him.

"Anyway." Marianno clapped his hands once. "This is not why we're here."

"Why are we here?"

"To figure out your diet."

For the next hour, Marianno and I came up with an experimental regimen of blood and food. He often worked with newly turned vampires. That, along with his knowledge as a doctor, meant he had a good idea about a starting point. 

However, I wasn't happy about it. I spent most of the time arguing with him.

After some time, he sighed and put away his computer. "Elle, love, why are you so against taking blood?"

"I'm not against it," I said.

"All the arguments we're having are about reducing your blood intake," he said.

I pursed my lips. "I don't know. I just find the idea of taking blood..."

"Distasteful?" he offered.

I shifted in my seat. Marianno was a nice guy. I didn't want to offend or hurt him. He smiled. "Don't worry. I'm more robust than I look. Also, I was once a human, and although I turned willingly into a vampire, I still remember the aversion I had to the idea of drinking blood."

"There's that." I blew out a breath. "Mostly, I think I'm just being stubborn. I don't want to admit the fact that I'm no longer normal."

"And drinking blood drives home that point."

"Yeah..."

"I hate to bring it up to you, love, but you were never normal."

I rubbed my chest. He was right. I had never been normal. Ironically, I was at my most 'normal' right now. An immortal living among immortals. Not one masquerading as a human.

First a child living in the woods, training like a soldier, then a teenager living with human families, then a headhunter.

No. I had never been normal.

The day only got busier. Fortunately, Arthur made himself scarce. After figuring out my diet, Marianno left me in the tender cares of Noah. The werewolf looked at home in the middle of the woods surrounding Arthur's place.

He blinked his amber eyes. His nostrils flared.

"Did my smell change?" I asked.

He nodded and sat cross legged on the ground. Unstrapping my sword, I assumed the same position in front of him and put the sword next to me.

"Arthur said you could help me with the blood lust," I said.

"I'll do my best. No promises."

I shrugged. "That's all I ask. Thank you."

"You had an episode last night," he said, "Lord Arthur told me about it."

"Yeah..."

"Did you feel off before it happened?"

"I felt a little off after waking up, but I blamed it on the spell breaking." I sighed. If I wanted to do this, I had to be honest. "Actually, there was a moment..."

I told him about Charles' words and being angry at him. And about that fraction of a second when I could sense the blood in his pulse and my gums ached.

"It happened so fast, I thought I was imagining it," I said, "but I can't deny that I've been... angry, ever since I woke up."

He gave a thoughtful nod. "Anger is a sign of losing control. It is a cause and a consequence at the same time."

He was getting a little too Yoda for me. I frowned. "How is that?"

"Blood lust, when not satiated, causes anger. And anger, in a weak person, causes blood lust," he explained, "To avoid both, you need to have a better understanding of yourself: what makes you angry and why? How often do you need to drink blood? What are the very first signs of blood lust in yourself?

"Teaching self-control to a strong werewolf, or a new vampire, takes time. It's a process better done in stages. First we would isolate you until you know what makes you tick, then we'd slowly introduce you into situations where you are tested, with a limited number of people and fewer sensory inputs. Then we broaden your experiences, slowly, until you are in full control of yourself in a real life situation. This approach is easier on you, but it takes time."

"I don't have time," I told him, "I'll have to go to Ireland pretty soon."

"I know, which is why we'll do things differently," he said, "the other approach is quicker, but it's more difficult."

"What is it?" I asked.

"This is how we'll do things. First, we'll find out your triggers."

"So I can avoid them."

"No," Noah said, "so we can put you through them. You see, you can't always avoid your triggers. I know a werewolf who gets angry when someone stares at him. He can't help it, his wolf just doesn't like it."

I snorted. "How the hell is he dealing with that?"

"He learned to control his response. He knows his trigger, and so he knows when his wolf will be angry. He's better prepared to deal with it," Noah said, "so, you see, you can't always avoid your triggers. In fact, I encourage you not to. You need to identify them, know the effects they have on you, know the signs of blood lust in you, and use that knowledge to get through your anger."

"So after I find out what triggers me, you'll put me through it?" I asked. That seemed pretty sadistic to me.

He nodded, a smile lurking in his amber eyes. "You know what they say: the best way to teach someone to swim is to throw them in the water," he said, "of course, it is also possible that the person will drown."

How very comforting.

**** **** ****

According to Noah, to figure out my triggers, I needed to get out there and experience life to the fullest. That meant putting myself in unfavorable situations, with people I didn't like or who didn't like me.

That was why I accompanied Arthur to Venus' palace again, much to his displeasure. He didn't want to put me in danger's way and he made it clear, to which Noah said "this is how I'll do things. If you don't agree with my approach, you're welcome to have someone else train her."

My respect for Noah grew when he didn't cower under the full scope of Arthur's scowl.

"I don't see why you insisted Charles come with us," I told Noah. We were strolling the gardens around Venus' palace, Noah and Charles on either side behind me. Arthur had gone off to a meeting with the big guys.

Charles was quiet, as he'd been since I laid eyes on him this fine day.

"You and Charles don't get along," Noah replied, "it will put more pressure on you."

"Which is exactly what we want," I said, rolling my eyes.

He stayed quiet. He truly took reticence to another level. If Arthur had been this quiet, I would have given him another pair of lips in his throat. Lord help the woman who would end up with Noah.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the meeting with them?" I asked him. There was a group of fae a few yards in front of us. They were all young, barely adults. I adjusted my trajectory so we wouldn't meet them.

"My brother is there," Noah said, "he'll do."

One of the fae separated himself from the group and stepped into our path. I wanted to walk past him, but that would be rude. I had no idea when I had started caring about being diplomatic. It must be Arthur's influence on me. Ugh.

I smiled. "Good morning."

The fae bowed with a flourish. Even to someone who wasn't used to being bowed to, his movement seemed exaggerated. My suspicions were confirmed when someone from the group behind him stifled a snicker. Annoyance sparked. I guess Noah would get his wish to see me lose it very soon.

The fae straightened. He was young, the sense of age I felt from him gave off the impression of early twenties. For immortals, that meant barely an adult. His pale eyes held a contemptuous glint.

"Your royal highness," he said, "a pleasure to meet you. Your lowly subject, Daniel Ryan, in your service."

Now he was pushing it. Anyone with half a brain could hear the mocking in his voice. My hand was on my sword beneath the cape. I had decided to wear the black cape again today. I told myself it was because my weapons were better concealed that way. But maybe it was because of my need to hide myself from the world. I didn't let myself dwell on the reason too much.

The fae, Daniel, waited for my response. His friends behind him waited, barely hiding the fact that they were watching our interaction.

Deep breaths. They were just kids having fun teasing the new kid on the block.

"A pleasure to meet you, Damien," I said, "how can I help you?"

"It's Daniel," he said, "I was wondering if I could ask a few questions? I hope you don't find it rude."

"Go ahead, Darrel."

He paused, not sure if I was mispronouncing his name on purpose or if I really had a short span memory. I widened my eyes and blinked. He smiled. 

I had this puppy eye shit down to a T.

"You've lived with humans before, yes?" he asked. I nodded. He added, "and before that, you lived with Robert Walsh, right?"

The mention of Uncle Robert pinched my heart. I did not want his name dragged into a silly teasing game played by this fae.

"And?" I asked.

"You see, he's somewhat of a legend back in Ireland," he said, "when he disappeared, everyone started speculating about the reason. Some said that he ran away and became a rogue because he'd killed the previous king's mate, others thought that he had been having an affair with your mother and that the two of them were killed as a consequence."

I did not believe my ears. Did this boy actually say what I thought he did? The rush of his blood sounded loud to my own ears. 

"But then news of your existence reached us, and we wanted to know if Robert Walsh was really dead," he asked, "how did he die?"

His pulse increased. If I hadn't drank enough blood, would I have been able to stop myself from tearing into his throat like a monster? I didn't know for sure.

Ironically, it was the thought of becoming a monster that brought me a measure of clarity. I grinned. The young man took an imperceptible step backwards.

"Tell me, Dylan-"

"It's Daniel-"

"What's stopping me from burning your ass to a crisp, I wonder?" I asked. Daniel's smile faltered. "Or maybe you prefer the old fashioned way?"

"What-"

My sword's smooth exit from its scabbard was not noticed by Daniel until the tip touched his throat. I cocked my head to the side. My smile disappeared. 

I clicked my tongue when Daniel made a move. My magic moved like hot lava in my veins. Sparks of blue crackled loudly on my skin, all around my body, more like electricity rather than fire. The fae sucked in a breath.

"Let me tell you how uncle Robert died, and you can convey the truth of it to your eager friends," I said, "he died in battle, like an honorable soldier. He fought more than a dozen mercenaries and cut through them with his sword. He did not falter when a knife landed in his throat, or when a sword pierced through his chest, or when claws tore his body apart. He fought even when his guts spilled on the ground.

"Robert Walsh was a brave man, an honorable man the like of which you will never know. If you dare taint his memory again with your senseless words, I will make you wish you never heard of his name. Am I clear, fae?"

The fae's forehead glistened with sweat. "Y-yes."

I was about to remove my sword when someone spoke up.

"Who are you to threaten us?"

I leaned my head to the side and looked past the frozen fae to his friend. She was the bravest of the group, it seemed, because her friends were all paralyzed.

"I'm Elle Sanders," I told her, "your king's blood and a vampire's venom run through my veins. The crazy boogeyman you're all so scared of. But what you need to remember is that I'm Robert Walsh's daughter. If anyone speaks ill of him in my hearing, I won't hold myself back. I will gladly lose my own life to defend his honor."

Uncle Robert had been my everything. He had shaped me into the woman I was today. He had sacrificed his blood and honor and life to keep me alive. They could insult me all they wanted, but uncle Robert was a line I would allow no one to cross.

The female fae's magic flared to life. Her eyes swirled with hints of green and red, a red flame sparked to life in her hand. 

Her hostile intentions fuled my power. I let my magic loose. A ring of blue shot up from the ground. It surrounded her in a cylinder of sapphire flames, separating her from her friends. Screams and whispers echoed all around.

The fae inside my prison of blue flames fought back, her magic against mine. She was strong, but her magic was a soft stream of fire against the crashing waves of my flames.

Arthur was right. I may have acquired the risk of insanity with my blood, but with that risk came advantages to balance it. A burst of power. My magic had never felt this strong.

The whispers around us grew. The fae at the tip of my sword, Daniel, did not move. Smart man.

"Elle!" Charles hissed in my ear. "What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to start a damn conflict?"

"Relax, Charlie," I said, "I'm not hurting her."

I let my flames die down. The girl inside was sitting on the ground, her eyes wide. the ground around her bore the evidence of my magic, a ring of scorched earth a few inches deep.

I lowered my sword. A droplet of blood streamed down the fae's neck. I sucked in a breath. I could actually smell the blood from here. It smelt metallic and rich and sweet. I waited for the urge to attack the fae to strike. I braced for it, but it didn't come.

Relieved that I didn't turn into a monster at the sight of a droplet of blood, my mood lightened. "Alright, kids," I said, "learn your lesson and move on. Are we clear?"

The fae I had at sword point rubbed his neck, gulping. "Y-yes, maam."

I felt sorry for him. He might wear a suit and look like an adult, but I bet this was his first trip  ever outside of Ireland. It didn't excuse his behavior, but he could learn from his mistakes.

I walked up to the girl, still sitting on the ground, and held my hand towards hers. She stared at it like it was a snake.

I smiled at her. "Come on. Your suit is white, dirt and white don't mix along well."

Her frown cautious, she put her hand in mine. I pulled her up. She stared at me, bloodless beneath the rich mahogany of her skin.

I left the group of young fae. There was quite a few people around, they all stared.

Among them was Natalia.

Wearing an ankle length dress of a deep blood red color, her hair up in an intricate style and her skin luminescent, Natalia was the most beautiful woman around.

I brushed dirt off my pants. Nope. That didn't make me look any better.

Natalia stepped forward, her steps lazy. Two vampires trailed her.

"Would you look at that?" she said, "are you starting to go crazy, fae?"

I put the flat of my sword on my shoulder and grinned. "Didn't you hear, Nat? I've always been a little crazy."

She scoffed. I walked away, Noah and Charles beside me.

"That was unnecessary," Charles said, "and stupid. You should learn to control your temper."

Still on a high, I smiled at Charles. "I'll do better next time, Charlie."

He scowled, his eyes wide. "Goodness, you are turning crazy."

I rolled my eyes. That would teach me to be nice. Noah gently steered us into the woods, until we were deep enough for privacy.

He stopped and looked at me. "How do you feel?"

"Good," I said, "I think I may have lost it if it wasn't for the blood I took the night before. But I can't be sure. I could smell that fae's blood, but I didn't want to tear his throat apart."

He nodded. His eyes gained a calculative look I didn't like. He was up to no good, my teacher.

_____________________________

Thoughts...?

Don't forget to comment and vote if you liked the chapter! I love reading you guys' comments!

Also, follow me here or on IG (when_mia_writes) 

Stay safe and healthy. Lots of love.

M.B