Damn. It was good to see this and realize that what she’d had in the past was nothing on what she had gained in the present. Den was a man to spend the rest of her life with. Alphonse had been a fun distraction for a while, but ultimately, he’d had no staying power.

  “Nice to meet you,” Alphonse muttered to Den as the two men shook hands. Den said little, simply giving Alphonse a measuring glance that seemed to make the dancer wither.

  “Well, we’re going to be late for the party. Maybe we’ll see you there. If not, have a good life, Alphonse,” she told him, sincerely.

  “You too, Sunny,” he said, refocusing on her. “I’m sorry for everything, and I’m glad you’re okay now. You still have quite a gift. I watched your solo. You were poetry in motion.”

  Surprised by his compliment, she felt mildly pleased. At least they could part as friends. Something snicked into place in her heart, and she realized that last little broken piece had just clicked back into place. She was totally over Alphonse and now her entire heart belonged to Den. As it should be.

  They walked out arm in arm and headed for the party. She didn’t speak to Alphonse again and didn’t care. She’d received a closure she hadn’t known she’d needed and enjoyed being on Den’s arm as he made conversation—and a hefty contribution to the hospital fund.

  “Den, are you rich or something?” she asked him privately as they stood on the balcony a bit later, getting a breath of fresh air.

  “Well, I am part of the Redstone family, not just the Clan. My grandmother was a Redstone, actually. The family money comes down from her side, though none of my ancestors were what you might call poor.”

  “You’re kidding.” She rounded on him. “You mean I’m marrying a man of means and I didn’t even realize it?”

  He wrapped his hands around her waist and met her gaze, a smile playing around his lips. “I’ve got enough to keep you in any style you’d like, actually. My net worth is somewhere in the twenty million range, last time I checked, but I like to live simply.”

  Her jaw dropped. She’d had no clue he was that wealthy. Not that it mattered. She loved him. She’d love him if he were a pauper. Though, finding out they’d never have to worry about financial security was a really nice thing to know.

  “Wow.” She didn’t know what to say, really. He’d just stunned her.

  He squeezed her waist as he looked down at her, grinning. “Are you impressed? Do you like the idea of marrying a rich husband?”

  “No, actually,” she told him truthfully. “Though, I’ll admit it’s nice to know we won’t have to worry about buying groceries. But I’m not happy about marrying a rich man, as you put it. I’m happy about marrying you, Den.” Her tone turned serious as she gazed up into his eyes. “I love you.”

  Den kissed her, drawing out the kiss a lot longer than was really acceptable in polite company, but if anybody tried to join them on the balcony, they quickly turned around and went back inside. When Den finally raised his head, their gazes met, and he was still smiling.

  “I love you, too, Sunny.”

  *

  Meanwhile, somewhere in Nebraska…

  Even before he rose for the evening, the master vampire, Marco, sensed something stirring in the forest around the old mansion. He had begun the work of cleansing the place with the help of a nearby group of shapeshifters several months ago, and he still kept a close eye on it. It was empty now, but the mansion and its grounds had been used for terrible evil. The outside pavilion, in particular, had been drenched in blood magic, and the gardens around it had been seeded with evil gargoyle statues that came to life only to attack servants of the Light.

  Marco might be limited to the hours of darkness because of his immortal nature, but he was a long-time servant of the Light, and an opponent of evil. He had spent many years watching over the mansion and grounds on the edge of his territory. He had rejoiced in helping rid the place of evil and then snatching it up when it was put up for sale. The place was finally his, but it remained a problem. It was empty when the work crews went home, and the echoes of the evil that had been done there reverberated.

  What the estate really needed was new inhabitants. Good people with good plans for the place. He just hadn’t found any to take it over yet.

  And now, he wasn’t sure it would be safe to do so. Something was going on there, and he needed to find out what it was. If evil had returned to the estate, he was going to have to do something about it.

  *

  Thank you for reading Dance of the Dryad (Brotherhood of Blood ~ Wildwood #1). If you want to read more about Sunny and Den, there’s a free bonus story available to my newsletter subscribers. Simply click here to find out how to get it.

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review. The next book is called Night of the Nymph. In it, another daughter of the dryad will be uncovered and brought back into the family. Keep scrolling to read an excerpt

  A complete list of all of my books, separated by series, follows. But as you might’ve realized by now, all of my paranormal books are linked by common characters, situations and events. They’re segregated into series mostly based on location and the species involved. There’s a reading order on my website for those who enjoy that sort of thing. Happy reading!

  EXCERPT FROM NIGHT OF THE NYMPH

  ©2022 Bianca D’Arc. All Rights Reserved.

  Chapter One

  Even before he rose for the evening, the master vampire of this region, Marco, sensed something stirring in the forest around the old mansion. He had begun the work of cleansing the place with the help of a nearby group of shape shifters several months ago and he still kept an eye on it. It was empty now, but the mansion and its grounds had been used for terrible evil. The outside pavilion, in particular, had been drenched in blood magic, and the gardens around it had been seeded with evil gargoyle statues that came to life only to attack servants of the Light.

  Marco might be limited to the hours of darkness because of his immortal nature, but he was a long time servant of the Light, and an opponent of evil. He had spent many years watching over the mansion and grounds on the edge of his territory, in eastern Nebraska. He had rejoiced in helping rid the place of evil. But, it remained a problem. It was empty and the echoes of the evil that had been done there reverberated.

  What the place really needed, was new inhabitants. Good people with good plans for the place. He just hadn’t found any to take it over, yet.

  And now, he wasn’t sure it would be safe to do so. Something was going on there, and he needed to find out what it was. If evil had returned to the mansion, he was going to have to do something about it.

  With that in mind, he rose in the darkness after twilight and headed out to check on the mansion. Although he was not strictly a mage, he had been able to forge some rudimentary wards around the property and those were being tested by something. He wasn’t sure what. He also wasn’t sure if it was good or evil. All he knew at this point, was that something had breached his wards, and he was going to find out who, or what, had done so, and why.

  He flew through the night air in the form of a black dragon. As an ancient vampire, he had the strength to transform himself into just about any shape he desired. It wasn’t shape shifting in the traditional sense. He wasn’t like those who had a beast living in their soul and could only transform into that one animal. No, Marco could do just about any shape he could imagine. Even mist.

  But he enjoyed the dragon form. He liked flying, and if he kept his size down to a reasonable stature, and his color very dark, then nobody could see him other than those with magic of their own. Regular people, those with no magic, never looked up when he passed over and didn’t see him. Of course, he could influence their minds to look away and not notice him, as well, but he rarely had to resort to such methods.

  As he flew over the forest that made up a large part of the mansion’s property, he caught sight of something moving among the trees. He sensed magic, but it was a different sort than he was used to feeling. This felt almost…elemental. He couldn’t be sure. He circled once again, then landed not far from where he had sensed the intruder.

  Crystal had felt compelled to stop her car and enter the woodland that was crying out for help. It wasn’t normal for her to do things like this, but she’d never felt a call so strongly. She had discovered an odd ability to hear the whispering, musical communication of trees long ago. She had always considered it a secret quirk that she never discussed with anyone, but she listened to the trees around her and learned many things.

  She was on her way across the state for a job interview, but something had made her take the exit ramp and come to this lonely stretch of road. She’d stopped her car and rolled down the windows and a wave of despair came to her on the wind that nearly broke her heart.

  Not really thinking about her actions, she’d gotten out of her car and walked into the woods, going deeper into the gloom as night fell. She wasn’t afraid. The trees would warn her of any danger. They were her friends and would try to protect her. She didn’t sense any wild animals that were big enough to hurt her or any other threats, but she felt the deep sorrow of the trees as a blow to her heart.

  She summoned her energy and tried her best to soothe the trees, telling them that she was here and would do her best to help. She didn’t know exactly what she could do, but she had to do something. It was a visceral need in her soul.

  She walked among the trees, noting the presence of many oak and rowan seedlings that were doing their best to help their older friends of different varieties recover from whatever had been done to them and the land on which they grew. But the seedlings were too young and too much had happened here for them to be able to cleanse the land easily or quickly. It was going to be a really big job.

  Crystal kept walking, not needing light to see as the sun went down. It was a quirk of her power that all living things gave off a slight glow that allowed her to see in the dark, as long as there were living things around her. She walked to the heart of the grove and sank down to her knees as the despair of the trees nearly overwhelmed her. They were all talking at once, as if they had been waiting for someone like her to arrive. Someone who could hear them.

  The Protector comes. The trees whispered the phrase over and over, but she didn’t know what it meant. She didn’t feel endangered. Far from it. The trees liked this being—whoever the Protector was. She wasn’t sure she should be here. She was trespassing, after all, but if the trees trusted this person, then perhaps she could convey to the Protector the need she felt from the trees for cleansing of the land.

  She held her position. The Protector would either find her, or it wouldn’t. She wasn’t going to stop her work. She was busy summoning energy from the earth to cleanse the worst of the deep wounds suffered by the land in this area and, by association, the trees. It was the least she could do, and frankly, she couldn’t go another moment listening to the wailing that only she could hear. The trees were in pain, and it pained her to hear it.

  Master Marco flew overhead, making for the spot on the edge of the forest nearest the road where he saw a think golden glow through the trees. As he approached, the golden light shimmered, drawing him in like a moth to the flame. Intrigued, he circled, going lower to see if he could learn more before he landed, but the trees were too dense. He only got flickering images of a person standing in the center of the glow, seeming to command it with their hands.

  It didn’t look bad. It didn’t feel evil. Instead, he got the impression that the being—whoever it was—wielded its power to try to help the forest in some way. Living things weren’t his specialty. Especially not plants and trees. He had done what he could to try to help the land recover from the evil that had been done here. He had seeded the area with oak and rowan saplings, having heard that they naturally cleansed evil from the land.

  Marco didn’t know how long it would take, but time was something he had plenty of, and he often thought in terms of decades, or even centuries, rather than years or months. The little saplings were doing well. He checked on them regularly. But, he had no way of knowing how long it would take those brave little trees to overcome the horrors that had been committed on this land.

  Maybe the trees had gotten tired of waiting. Maybe they had somehow summoned one who could help them faster. He’d heard rumors through the Masters network that ancient elemental powers were starting to show themselves once more in the mortal realm. Just recently, he’d been told by his old friend Hiram about a fierce battle involving four water elementals and a whole host of Others, including an entire town of bear shifters, assorted mages from different disciplines and heritages, someone with sylph blood and even a part-dryad.

  They had managed, between them, to send a creature of evil back to its own realm of existence, before it could pollute the Earth’s seas any more than it already had. If the creature had spawned here, for example, it would have meant centuries of incredibly powerful sea creatures—monsters, really—that would feed on any innocent traversing the oceans.

  Hiram had nothing but praise for the people he had befriended in that new town in his territory that had sprung up a few years ago. Grizzly Cove was earning quite the reputation among magical folk. Both for the trouble it had encountered because of so much magic being gathered in such a small place, and for the social experiment of creating a town just for bear shifters, who normally roamed alone, or in small family groups.

  Bear shifters weren’t like werewolves. They didn’t form Packs. At least, not usually. However, the Alpha who had created the town, had been a military leader. He had earned such respect and admiration from his men that they had followed him even into civilian life, and the town he had created for them all. If Marco ever found himself traveling again, he thought he would like to see this town called Grizzly Cove. Hiram’s description made it sound like a very interesting place.

  But Marco’s traveling days were behind him. At least, that was his belief. He had picked this area of the country because there were few people, and even fewer of his kind. He had lived far beyond his expectations. Centuries of living had left him feeling morose, if he was being honest with himself. He was just existing. He was protecting his little part of the world against evil. That was his only goal in life, now. He had given up hoping for happiness, or a future with joy in it.

  The years stretched ahead of him—and behind him—in a tedious line. He’d had an existential crisis of momentous proportions for a long time, until he just decided that he was here to protect his little area, and help where he could to stop evil from hurting anybody else the way it had hurt those he had cared for in the past. He wouldn’t let himself in for that kind of pain again. He wouldn’t form friendships with the mortals around him. He wouldn’t harm them, of course, though he needed to feed from time to time, but he also wouldn’t befriend them.

  Losing them was too painful, especially when they succumbed to evil. It had happened both ways to him. Someone he had trusted had been turned to evil and broken his heart. Or, most often, evil targeted those he had befriended, killing them without remorse, in horrible ways. Either way, Marco ended up mourning. Grieving for the people he had lost over the many centuries he had been alive. The only thing keeping him going, at this point, was his responsibility to try to stem the tide of evil wherever he could, so that others wouldn’t have to feel the soul-deep sadness he had felt too many times to remember.

  He circled over the light, going lower on each pass, trying to discover what he could before he changed shape and landed among the trees. He couldn’t very well land in his dragon form, even though he could be a man-sized dragon. The wingspan was always an issue among the tightly packed trees. But he didn’t need wings to fly. He was vampire. He could become mist, if that’s what he wanted. His magic was such that there was no limitation on the forms he could become, and flying was more of a magical operation than a mechanical one. At least, for him.

  Maybe that wasn’t the case for others of his kind. Marco didn’t know for sure. He’d just always been able to do it, once he’d come fully into his power. That had happened sometime in the 1400s, when he had claimed mastery over his birth region in Italy, and he’d only grown incrementally stronger since then. Messina had been his birthplace, and also the site of the start of the Black Death in Europe when three ships docked there from the Black Sea, bringing the plague to his homeland.

  He’d watched throughout, knowing the plague for what it was—a magical attack by the Destroyer—who wanted, insanely, to cleanse the world of non-magical humans to make way for her twisted idea of an evil empire. Elspeth had sent successive waves of disease and pestilence against innocent human beings over many years of struggle, when the forces of good tried so hard to gather their strength and fight her followers wherever they were found.

  But Elspeth and her people, were cunning. They hid in the shadows and preyed on the innocent. They killed so many in their attempts to gain ultimate power. Eventually, the forces of good had won the day and sent Elspeth packing, imprisoned and exiled to the farthest realms. Her followers had been killed or disbanded, and her time was at an end.

  Or, so they had thought. Her followers—the ancient order known as the Venifucus—had not disbanded, as he had believed for so long. In recent years, it had come to light that they had kept going in secret. They had been working all this time, to break Elspeth free of her prison and bring her back to the mortal realm.

  Rumors abounded that they had in fact done just that. Marco wasn’t sure, but he remained vigilant. He dreaded the idea that they would have to fight her all over again. He would do it. He wouldn’t enjoy it, but he would do it. He had seen, firsthand, what she had done to the people of his beloved homeland and everyone else unfortunate enough to be in her path.