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I wake up sore on the cold, hard floor, still wrapped up in this stupid dress. My eyes feel swollen, and my throat is raw from all the screaming. But at the same time, my soul feels lighter, which makes peeling myself up off the floor easier.
The moons are still high in the sky. But Felix isn’t here. He said he would meet me back here.
I check the bathing room, but he isn’t there either. The Ball could still be going on…
I need to get that knife before he finds it. I don’t know if I will get another chance to get my hands on one. And if he isn’t back yet, maybe I can get another look at those vines.
Quickly, I make my way down the stairs and slowly open the door to his room. There is a chance he went to his own bed without waking me. He could have already found the knife. There are so many possibilities. And so many ways to get into trouble or killed.
“Felix,” I whisper into the darkness.
“I am fine, Little Thief. Go back to bed.” He sounds…different. Tired.
“You don’t sound ok.” I walk toward his voice. Even with the light from the moons that are still high in the sky, I can’t see where he is.
“Are you worried about me?” he chuckles. But that even sounds off.
“No. I am worried about me. Because if you’re in trouble, then I’m in trouble.” Which is the truth. He is the only thing standing between me and all the other dangers inside this castle. Without him, I would already be dead or worse…someone else’s pet.
“Makes sense,” he groans.
“Where are you?”
“Over here,” he says a little louder.
I easily make my way across the room, having memorized the layout, and find the Prince sitting against the wall beside the large fireplace.
“What are you doing?”
“I am just a little weak. I will be fine eventually.”
“Weak?” It takes far too long for the pieces to snap into place. “When is the last time you fed?” I ask as I sit beside him. Circles that were not there earlier darken beneath his eyes. His red hair is disheveled, and his glasses lie on the floor beside his hip.
“Since I brought you here,” he murmurs.
“Are you fucking stupid? You can’t go that long without blood!” I promised myself that I would never let this happen again. But I need him. You have been through worse. You can do what needs to be done. Remember the end goal. “Here.” I offer my wrist despite the anxiety clawing through my chest.
“Why do you offer this to me?” He looks me over, questions written all over his face.
“Because you are not allowed to die unless it is by my hand.” He still doesn’t take my offered wrist but continues to stare at me as if I have suddenly grown a second head.
“Nyx…as much as I appreciate—” he starts. But I place my fingers over his mouth to stop him. He needs to get it over with before I lose my nerve.
The memory of fangs piercing my flesh repeatedly threatens to pull me into a deep sadness and anger that will result in nothing more than someone’s death. And at this point, I can’t even say it would be someone who deserves to die. I just need a body I can sink a blade into.
“Just do it!” I try to sound stern, but my voice quivers, giving away my nerves.
He claims to be weak, but yet he can still lift me as if I weigh nothing to place me on his lap. He even takes the time to move the layers of my dress out of the way until I am left straddling him, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. I don’t do intimacy. And this feels…intimate.
“You have been kidnapped and threatened by the King AND Queen, and I didn’t smell an ounce of fear. But here you are, offering me your wrist and the smell fills the room.”
“I told you I don’t like repeating myself. You get one more chance before I let—”
“Nyx,” he says firmly, not allowing me to finish my threat or try to steer him away from the questions I know are coming. His thumb brushes the inside of my wrist, and thinking and breathing become difficult. “Why are you so scared?”
What difference will it make if he knows a little about me? I seriously doubt it would finally convince him to put me in the dungeon. If anything, it may make him more susceptible to keep me around longer. But I don’t want that either! Ugh! He won’t let it go if I don’t give him something!
“I don’t enjoy the feeling of my skin being pierced and my life being dragged through my veins into someone’s greedy mouth.” I barely get it out through gritted teeth. I try to pull my arm free, but he holds firm.
