A Fate of Wrath & Flame (Fate & Flame 1)

“And he didn’t mind? I mean, he wasn’t afraid?”

“That is not the first time that has happened to him. And no, he put on a good show for us, but his pulse was racing, and it was not from fear.”

“It didn’t hurt him?”

“Nothing more than a slight prick at the beginning, from what I’ve heard.”

I grimace, rubbing the spot on my neck where the daaknar sank its fangs into me.

“I’ll wager it’s significantly less unpleasant than what you experienced,” Zander says, reminding me that he has no trouble seeing me in the dark. “A lot of the Seacadorians come to Islor for that type of evening, and it is almost guaranteed in a place like the Goat’s Knoll.”

“Are you saying they enjoy being fed upon?”

“It’s a novel idea, is it not? That when the humans are not forced into servitude, this symbiotic relationship between immortal and mortal could be different.”

“And you think humans would allow themselves to be fed upon if they weren’t forced?” I ask doubtfully.

“Many would not,” he admits. “But some would because humans have great capability for compassion. And others would do it if there was monetary gain. The difference is they would have a choice and not a keeper. I realize it is a provocative notion, one that has stirred debates and worries among my kind, but I think it is a notion worthy of exploring because it is what is right. Another way to live and to survive. A better way.”

“There were tributaries in there.”

“Servants, but likely not tributaries. They serve their keepers in other ways, as house and farmhands, and trades helpers. This is where they choose to come on a rare night off or if they’ve stolen away from their burdens for a few hours. Bexley charges a fee for the tables, and people use them however they wish, whether it’s enjoying mead or mortal. In some cases, the humans charge for access to their veins. Sometimes, as with Bexley and the Silver Mage’s captain, they both take enjoyment from it.”

“So, they’re already living what you’ve envisioned, then.”

“Not quite. They are earning too little in stipends to support themselves. This extra coin allows them to live a little better. Perhaps buy finer clothes, but not more. In a better version of this world, they have their own homes and families and goals, with no keepers to answer to. There would be mortal villages like there are in Ybaris, with mortal lords and ladies. They would not be at the mercy of those who need their blood to survive, and those who choose to sell it would be compensated appropriately.”

And the power would shift from the immortals to the mortals in a drastic way.

I can see why Zander is facing backlash for even suggesting such a thing, why those like Adley would oppose it so vehemently. They feel like their right to survive is being taken away.

“You should build a village for the mortals,” I say.

“Melt down a few more gold pillars?” I hear the humor in his voice.

“Sure. And pay them more, so they can support themselves. And stop bidding on forced tributaries. If they want to be one, let them apply for the position. Start in Cirilea and show other cities how it can work.”

“You’re brimming with ideas tonight,” he teases.

“What about the keepers of those servants in there? Don’t they care that their servants are selling their blood?”

“Those who would care don’t hear of it. The marks don’t last long, and the servants ensure to use less noticeable spots.”

“Like where?”

I stifle my gasp as Zander seizes the backs of my thighs.

“The guards,” he whispers, lifting and pinning me against the wall with his body, our cowls joining to create a cocoon. They must have stopped at the entrance to check for any lurkers or crimes within the shadows. It’s dark down here, but I know their immortal eyes allow them excellent sight. Two cloaked figures prowling in an alleyway is suspicious.

Unless they’re looking for privacy.

I slip my arms around Zander’s head to play the part of the willing partner, which, with his waist nestled between my thighs and his hands gripping me tightly, I can’t deny that I am.

Tension cords his muscles.

“You know, it would be a lot easier if you didn’t make your captain hunt for you,” I whisper, heat swelling deep in my core.

Zander’s exhale skates across my lips. “It would be a lot easier if you didn’t react the way you do to me.”