Ilona was walking barefoot towards a meadow, the woods surrounding her thinning out and making way for the open landscape she spotted ahead. The moon was coming through, and it was the only time of day where the two star-crossed lovers stood together in the sky; for the sun was setting and the sky was coloured in the deepest hues of orange and purple, a striking contrast with the vibrant green of the grass underneath her feet.
She had always loved dusk, but she loved the night more. Birds were flying back towards their nests, beaks overflowing with food for their young and some animals skurried in the bushes trying to find safety from the predators that came when the moon stood high.
When finally leaving the forest behind, Ilona found herself in a meadow she had never seen before. It was peaceful and when a breeze caressed her skin, she closed her eyes and spread her arms, imagining she was one of those birds flying home. When she opened her eyes once more, she looked around properly. The field she stood in was covered in wildflowers, perhaps it had once belonged to a farmer, but it had long since been forgotten. It had a brilliant vantagepoint: in the distance she could see villages and a large castle surrounded by a thick forest and somewhere in the middle a river flowed.
Ilona felt at peace and wanted nothing more than to sit down and observe the landscape until her eyes were dry, scared that if she would blink, she would miss something. She was so lost in thought that she did not notice the silence that crept around her, as if someone had thrown a blanket over the meadow. All animals became silent at once and the breeze stopped dancing with her hair.
″Are you enjoying the view?″ A deep voice pulled her out of her trance and back into reality. Ilona turned around and there she found him.
″Mr. Țepeș.″ She had not meant for her voice to contain as much surprise as it did disappointment, alas it did and if the man had noticed he chose not to comment for he approached her slowly and stood beside her. Together they observed the landscape, one with enjoyment and one with sadness.
″It is beautiful, is it not?″
″Yes, it is. Very peaceful, although I do wonder, what is this place?″
″This is what once was and never will be.″ Vlad turned to look at her, but Ilona could not take her eyes of the small buildings far away. People were making their way towards their homes, closing their shops, or venturing to the nearest tavern. The village looked as if it belonged in the Middle Ages, no apartment complex or car in sight, only horse and cart.
″What happened?″ Ilona could not resist the question; she simply could not do with the vague answers he gave her. That was the hidden journalist in her. A dry humourless laugh echoed beside her and this time she did turn. Vlad frowned down at her, his eyes seemed to carve themselves inside her flesh, looking for her deepest and darkest secrets. In other words, he looked scary as all Hell.
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His Forbidden Thirst (book 1: The Forbidden trilogy)
Fantasy''Come closer and I will scream!'' His prey whimpered. ''Scream. I dare you.'' He growled. Twenty-three-year-old Ilona Bukowski has always been fascinated by the supernatural, even when she shouldn't. This fascination takes her to Romania, where she...