I touched my neck, and it occurred to me. “You bit me. You drank my blood the night I came to see you.”
Tension sharpened his features. “I was rough, and I hurt you. I apologise.”
“You didn’t even ask me.” I gripped the cover hard. “I was unconscious when you bit me, wasn’t I? Because of a seizure. And you took advantage of that.”
He was another man who had used me because I didn’t matter in his opinion.
“I wasn’t in control. The first bite is always the worst. The urge is uncontrollable.”
“I nearly died. I was sick and weak for a long time.” A sob escaped me, but I didn’t want to cry. Not in front of him.
“I’m sorry.”
Since he didn’t have an aura, I couldn’t tell if he was honest or not.
He lowered his gaze. “The first provider of blood usually dies. But I managed to stop drinking from you, not to kill you.”
“If you expect me to be grateful?—”
“I don’t expect anything from you.” His waistcoat strained over his bulging muscles. Even his biceps swelled.
Anger was a good cure for my sorrow. “You should leave.”
He wasn’t used to taking orders, if the way he clenched his jaw was any indication. But he moved slowly towards the door.
“I’m truly sorry for what you went through, and I promise he’ll be punished and you’ll find peace.” He bowed before leaving.
Peace. I doubted I would ever be at peace again.
19
LIFE IN RAVEN HALL
Irene
Mansionwasn’t the right word for Raven Hall, but royal palace was more fitting.
Fiona, another wili, was showing me around, and we hadn’t stopped walking for an hour. We’d seen the drawing rooms, sitting rooms—I’d lost count of how many of them—the galleries, and the sunrooms.
“This is the ballroom.” She entered a ridiculously wide room with at least twenty arched windows overlooking the gardens.
Rows of small mirrors opposite the windows created a dazzling effect of space and luminosity. The chandeliers cast dozens of rainbows over the walls, and the frescoes on the ceilings, depicting a cloudless sky, gave the illusion of being outdoors.
Fiona sighed. “We’ve never used it since Ravenhill became the duke.”
“Who was the former duke?” My reflection glittered in a group of mirrors, showing different angles of my face.
“Lord Koschei.” She twirled, letting her white gown sparkle. “A very charming sorcerer with the nasty habit of kidnapping maidens. Myrtha fought with him constantly.”
“What did Koschei do to the kidnapped maidens?” I touched the marble statue of a stunning nymph.
“He charmed them and made them dance for him. When he got bored, he would release them. He didn’t kill them, otherwise Myrtha would have killed him. When Ravenhill challenged him for the role of duke, Myrtha and I supported him. Carabosse, a witch you haven’t met yet, wasn’t sure. The servants were on Ravenhill’s side the moment he agreed to give them a raise and paid holidays.” She spun faster on one foot. “Then Ravenhill and his wizard friend beat Koschei in a vicious fight. We wilis celebrated. Little did we know Ravenhill was an unbearable bore. Never a ball, a party, or a soirée.”
Her comment offended me. “But no more maidens were kidnapped and forced to dance.”
She stopped spinning. “I suppose.” She beckoned me to follow her along another corridor. “There are two other courts. The Fair Court is ruled by the holier-than-thou fairies, and the Moon Court, which we call Furry Court, is held by werewolves. The Furry Court had its own problems when Ravenhill took power and didn’t show its support either for Ravenhill or Koschei, but the fairies supported Ravenhill, only to change their minds afterwards because they thought he was too young and impulsive to be the duke.”
Fairies, werewolves… Would I ever get used to this world?
