His hard exterior was still there, but I saw the plea in his eyes to cooperate.
Nodding my head and dropping my gaze, my dark hair fell around me like a curtain as I whispered, “Okay.”
He let out a huff and quickly strode out. As the vampyre guards closed the door and the turning lock clanked into place, I suddenly got a really bad feeling.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood as dread filled me.
A cry left my lips as a hand roughly grabbed my hair and began to drag me forward. “You want to know something, sweetheart?” Without waiting for my answer, he continued, “I don’t believe him. Even if you are the Emperor’s Thrall, he would never send you down here and expect you to come out unscathed.”
The other one cackled behind me as I heard the tinkling of keys. “And even if you’re off-limits, I think it’ll be well worth the punishment.”
I knew my words would only anger them and their fragile masculinity, causing them to hurt me, so I bit my lip harshly to keep them in. The cell door before me was thrown open as the hand in my hair shifted with his movement until he was in front of me, squeezing my neck and leaning in to sniff me.
“Mmmm,” he purred, the ends of his inky black hair tickling my collar bone.
Repulsion flowed through me, and all I could do was hope that their fear of the Emperor would snap them out of this.
His wet tongue snaked out to lick over the steady pulse thrumming in my neck, and my breath caught as I clenched my eyes shut in anticipation of the bite I knew was coming. Trying to speak evenly despite my fear, I announced, “I have been the Emperor’s Thrall for four years. I have seen countless guards decapitated for doing less than you are now. You’re gambling with your life.”
Suddenly I flew through the air, crashing into the wall of the cell. The air was knocked from me as I landed in a heap, head ringing from the crack it had taken. The shadows cast by the flickering flames of the sconces swarmed my vision as they danced along the walls. Then my eyes fell shut, too heavy to keep open anymore.
***
My mind was fraught with nightmares of the past as I let myself float in the land of unconsciousness.
Screaming in horror as I walked out of our home to see my aunt laying in a pool of her own blood with no life in her eyes. My father was kneeling in the middle of the cropland, my eyes blurred with tears as I screamed for help, rushing to him.
His neck had been torn open by a vampyre, the bleeding too immense to staunch no matter how tightly I held my jacket to the wound, sending prayers for help to anyone that would listen.
Help came, but it was too late. By the time royal guards arrived, my father’s head was cradled in my lap, staring lifelessly up at the sky. My tears had already dried, leaving me a hollow shell, numb to the very core.
My mother had died in childbirth, and now my only two remaining family members were gone.
I was alone.
I didn’t remember much after that besides fighting like a rabid animal when the guards took my father’s body from me. After that, I was suddenly in the Emperor’s castle and dubbed his ward. He’d showered me with so many apologies for my family’s deaths, swearing to find the culprits and subject them to the utmost punishment.
I’d believed him. I held onto that kernel of hope until I walked into his throne room a year later, hoping to have dinner together. I found him surrounded by his council, each asking about me. One asked if I still saw him as a doting father figure. Another asked if he had drunk my blood yet, and at that point he hadn’t. The next question was the one that broke me from my trance.
“Is she really such a fool that she still thinks you’re truly protecting her under a semblance of a fatherly figure? The same man who killed her family based on a simple rumor?”
The floor felt like it dropped out from underneath me, and I screamed before trying to run away. It had ended with Malakai trying to guilt me into feeling bad for eavesdropping. He’d tried to convince me they were talking about another child.
That was the day I opened my eyes to who he truly was, and it was also the last day he didn’t drink my blood.
ChapterThree
Kyella
I’d been hungry before. In fact, I was hungry almost constantly, a permanent ache that made me feel lightheaded, even on the best days. Malakai’s failure to feed me properly was no doubt an effort to make sure I was perpetually in need. A need he directly controlled. He could easily demand that I be given no meals, and everyone would listen.
He never let me forget who controlled my life.
I hadn’t felt the true satisfaction of an entire meal since arriving at the castle, and that mixed with the horrible stomach pain I had when Malakai made me drink his blood usually left my gut churning for days. I knew I was far thinner than I should be—thinner than I’d been when I arrived here—and in some ways, I was glad for it. I hoped it made me somewhat unappealing to the vampyres around here, despite it being a horrible reflection on my health.
But now… Now I was truly starving. Acid boiled in my empty stomach, nothing to absorb it. The pieces of bread and few chunks of cheese my personal guard—whom I’d found out was named Tristan—had given me hadn’t been enough. It felt like it had been a week since they’d crossed my lips.
It had only been two days.
