Her hair starts regrowing after that, spilling in midnight waves from her head. Subtle, feminine curves reappear and I have to work to keep my gaze assessing rather than lustful. She’s not especially well-endowed, nothing like the busty femininity of most born lycan women, but the indecent glimpses I catch of her pert breasts through the decaying scraps of the dress she’d once worn are still temptation incarnate.
She’s toned—every inch of her obviously a warrior—yet her features are delicate. Pillowy, red lips, sweeping dark lashes, and a proud nose.
The sculptor didn’t do her justice.
Finley’s low whistle in my ear confirms he’s thinking exactly what I am. Our omega is probably already shopping for her in his mind.
Cain watches my appraisal with shrewd eyes, and I keep my expression carefully blank.
“If you don’t get the binding right, she’ll probably kill you the second she’s released.”
He doesn’t have to lecture us. We know the risks. I spent hours memorising the words, and hours more debating whether to actually use them.
Life as a vampire’s thrall isn’t what I had planned for myself, but it’s the only way. The bond can be severed later, if necessary. Until then, it’s just a pledge of mutual protection… and nourishment.
Almost as if in answer to my thoughts, the eyes of the vampire in the coffin snap open.
Soblue…
The sight of Draven’s blood already dripping into her mouth shocks me out of my stupor. I dutifully dig my own blade into my wrist and start speaking the words. Opposite me, Silas and Vane do the same, carefully piercing their skin and the capsule at the same time.
Cain watches us carefully, but he remains blissfully unaware of the two voices in my earpiece, also chanting. Two secret thralls being bound to his favourite daughter.
Then I feel it. Something snaps in my chest. A fierce, roaring need to protect, so wild and uncontrolled that I instinctively clamp down on it. It feels unnatural to deny the bond like this, but I do it anyway. Letting a stranger have that kind of connection to the deepest parts of my psyche is a massive security risk, one we can’t risk until we know more about her.
The unearthly sound that echoes from behind her gag makes me growl in answer. Somewhere between pain and anger, it’s the scream of someone who is in pain but still aware that they’re being violated on a supernatural level. There’s true terror in that sound. The type I’d never wish on any female.
Cain ignores it, grabs her hair, and wrenches her head up so she can see the slab beside her.
“If you apologise and repent for your betrayal, Imogen might one day see the outside of that tomb,” he growls, dropping her skull back into the coffin with an audible thunk. With one hand, he slams the lid closed over her, then turns back to us. “Get her secured. When we’re back at the Tower, you can remove her restraints, but she sleeps in that coffin from now on.”
He doesn’t wait for a reply. Instead, he sweeps out of the room and back up the stairs without another word.
My pack and I share a look.
“Fucking charming way to wake a woman up,”Finley mutters.
I want to agree, but I can’t risk Cain hearing. “Come on, we have to get her topside before he changes his mind.”
“She needs to feed,” Silas whispers, still staring at the coffin in soft-eyed awe. “I canfeelher.”
I should have guessed that he wouldn’t block the thrall bond, but I don’t reprimand him for it. That might come in handy later if we need to know what she’s thinking.
“We’ll deal with that back home.” I stoop and hook my fingers under the edge of the coffin, waiting until everyone else is ready before lifting it.
If it were made of anything else, one of us could carry it alone. But silver is the one weakness of the three immortal races. The only thing humans can use against us.
Which is why Cain has worked hard to ensure nearly all of it is tightly under his control.
We carry Evelyn out of the tomb at immortal speed. None of us want to touch the silver for longer than necessary. The glossy, military spec, twin rotor aircraft we arrived in still waits on the lawn of the overgrown estate.
But that isn’t the only thing.
I can feel the eyes around us. Hundreds of people hide in the tree line, watching in silence as we take her out of her mausoleum. Cain is busy securing the door, but I see the old woman hobble out of the trees and slam her withered fist over her heart once.
No, I think,please, go back before he notices.
Cain turns, takes in the scene, and frowns.
