Bloodsworn (MxM)

Chapter 15

Contrary to human belief, mirrors and other reflective surfaces had the same effectiveness with vampires as they did with humans. Rowan wished it hadn't as he stared at his reflection in the bathroom. Despite the attempt to steel his fears in Julien's room, even Rowan could tell he was failing. He looked weak. Harrowed.

All because of a silly little flame. He could imagine how pathetic and comical it appeared, being petrified of a small candle. Julien was patient and understanding, but it raised a lot of unknowns. If Rowan couldn't stand the look of a candle in a consenting scene like that, he couldn't imagine how he'd react if they had been stuck in a burning building. He needed a clear mind, one not hung up on the past and debilitating thoughts associated with it.

He stared back at the dark eyes in the mirror, breathing in and out heavily as he reminded himself why he was there. He was a bodyguard, one to a prince no less. Not the other way around; Julien shouldn't have to protect him from such things as a candle. Showing any weakness was punishable; not only would it risk Julien or any of the Rosenthals, but it would risk the very security he'd found for himself in the estate, away from the very one who had marred his side with fire.

He thought back to Julien's concerns. While he was a guard who should be able to face anything and everything, considering the prince's advice wouldn't be a detriment. He had some control, some self-autonomy that wouldn't completely conflict with his job. He could see himself slipping coercion with Julien's partners, insisting that Rowan was not a participant.

Or, in human terms, a safe word. He wasn't sure how that would be more effective than coercion, but even Julien knew that Rowan's skillset was not in coercion. He could manage the occasional commands, but nothing on par with other vampires his age. He attributed this to his life on the run, spending far more time alone and dependency on weapon skills and fighting rather than socializing. Attacking with knives and fists first was easier than attempting to initiate conversations with unknown parties.

Maybe he'd never see the appeal of a safe word for himself, but he did see the power it held in Julien's world. And Rowan would be lying if he said it didn't at least interest him in the slightest. He'd seen the workings of saying a safe word and its effectiveness on Julien's partners, even the more domineering and imposing ones.

Rowan couldn't deny that he wished he had that level of control when he was younger. Maybe then, he wouldn't have been cowering from a flame. Maybe he wouldn't have a marred side.

Rowan peeled back his black shirt, revealing the damaged skin. He hated the permanent reminder, but he needed it; the scar would remind him of what he had set out to do—take down Oscar Liszt.

Though the concept of taking him down was elusive and far-fetched, if there was one thing Rowan could allow himself to want, it would be that.

His fingers trailed over the sensitive skin, feeling where the skin stretched and mangled while stitching itself back together. Burns were never easy wounds to recover, and for vampires, it took unbearably longer. Memories of the nights spent in wheat fields or abandoned vehicles, not knowing if the limited blood he consumed would be enough to heal, played over in his head. He could hear the sound of starving werewolves who had gotten a whiff of his scent, likely circling him as he attempted to nurse both the physical and the emotional wounds of losing his family.

By all accounts, he knew he should've died that night—or any of those nights he spent alone. While in a city ruled by vampires, it was clear that there wasn't a place for young rogue vampires to be strolling alone. They thrived in groups, similar to wolves and the other woodland creatures to the east. Alone, he was a target, an easy one.

Rowan didn't think he'd survive this long, and now, as a member of the Rosenthal clan, he didn't want to take any chances. If it meant waiting for the right moment to strike Oscar down, Rowan would spend centuries as a bodyguard.