Alexander-Fyn-Sanguinarian

granted, Miss Rutledge. I find it hard to believe you do not know that. My family will has stated for centuries that the heir must live with his bride, or her bridegroom, for a minimum of one year, producing at least one child. In my family the eldest inherits, whether male or female, but they must keep the Ravenscroft name.”
    “That’s all terribly interesting, my lord,” Evangeline stated with a hint of sarcasm. “And what if I have a child and it dies? So many do.
    Will I be imprisoned in this tower until I give you a healthy infant?”
    “Ravenscroft stock is as strong as young horses. My children will not die, Miss Rutledge. I desire only one from you.”

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    “And I, my lord, desire no child from you. I want no child with yellow eyes or your freak show height, no matter how strong and healthy. You are decidedly strange to look at, sir!”
    “And you!” He raised his voice to such a pitch that she jumped, scooting back further into her chair. “You, Miss, are too thin and too small. You are decidedly ordinary!” He strode to the door, then turning upon her continued, “And you have far too much to say for yourself, damned cheeky little chit!”
    “Those scratches came from a woman,” she accused him. “What did you do to the poor creature to make her have to fight you off?
    They’re nail marks.”
    “They are nothing of the sort.”
    With that he stormed out, slamming the door so hard that Evangeline swore she heard stones rattle loose and tumble down the tower walls to the ground.

    * * * *

    Anger raged in Raven’s heart as he walked the pitch-black passages. He had gone to ask after her well-being, even offering to have different food brought up for her. He went to her to show his concern, to try to soften her anger a little, and what did she do in response to his thoughtfulness? She insulted his physiognomy and refused to bear a child with his characteristics, as if she had any choice in the matter.
    He knew he was not attractive. He had always loved Dominica’s beautiful green eyes and resented his own yellow ones. He looked older than his thirty years and his sister looked younger. He was not jealous, but he was hurt that Evangeline would point out his faults so readily, especially since he was trying so hard to be kind and to control his temper.

    * * * *

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    Fyn Alexander

    Lady Dominica heard her brother coming toward her tower from a good hundred yards away. She ran excitedly to the locked door and stood anxiously awaiting him. When the door opened and he stood before her smiling, she threw herself into his arms and felt them close around her, enveloping her. Dominic always made her feel protected.
    “I’m sorry I scratched you, Dominic.”
    “Do not trouble yourself, my dear,” he said kindly.
    At once she smelled blood on him, just as she had a few days ago.
    This blood smelled different, but it was still blood that had not come from her, and Dominica had been her brother’s main source for close to fifteen years. Angered, yet desperately wanting him there, she drew him to the bed chamber and sat beside him on the chaise longue.
    Neither spoke as he carefully nicked her vein and drank deeply from her wrist. Afterward they sat in silence, Dominic seeming serenely peaceful and Dominica angry that she had cause to suspect him.
    When he asked reticently, “Dominica, am I ugly?” she knew he was being influenced by a woman, and a woman who was not of their own kind. Any woman of the blood would see him as beautiful.
    “No, dear brother, you are not. Ladies find you beautiful.” He looked very tired for some reason. She knew nothing of what happened beyond the castle walls—his life beyond her tower and garden was a mystery to her. “Why would you ask such a question?”
    He laid his head on the back of the chaise. “People stare at me on the street. They always have.”
    “That is only because you are so tall. If I went out, they would stare at me also. Munk tells me I am very tall for a woman, even a woman of the blood .”
    “They would stare at you because of your beauty.” He smiled.
    Gently, Dominica ran one hand over his chest, feeling without seeming to for evidence of someone else in his life. The key to her tower he always left in the outside of the door when he visited her, only taking it when he left after locking her in. So she knew when she Sanguinarian 117
    felt another key in his coat pocket that it was to a different room in the castle.