Page 17 of Fated to the Demon Lord

“I thought—” I had no clue what was going on. In less than an hour I went from nearly poisoned to being given nightclothes. “I thought Lord Vaelor wanted me dead.”

Erlinen gave a long sigh, as if her evening would have been that much more enjoyable cleaning my lifeless body off the dining room floor instead of handing me clothes. “So did I. Now take the nightgown.”

I took it from her with my good hand. The fabric was soft and supple and held a fresh linen smell. Unlike my own tattered dress, which I had worn since my capture, this one appeared spotless.

Feron burst into the chamber, lugging a bucket of water and growling under his breath.

“Enough of that,” Erlinen snapped at him. “Who are you to question his lordship?”

He snorted as he walked up to the copper tub near the dresser and poured the water into it. A little steam rose. Gods, was the bathwater heated?

Erlinen faced me. “You should clean out your wound in the tub. There is a strip of cloth you may wrap it in on the vanity. We shall leave you to attend to your needs. Unless you wish for me to attend to you?”

She raised an eyebrow at me in expectation and didn’t move. She was serious.

I cleared my throat. “I’ll be fine.”

Erlinen nodded, and both she and Feron hurried from the room. The door slammed, and the lock snapped into place. I wouldn’t be leaving.

I sank to my knees, a sob of disbelief breaking out of me. The soft nightgown slipped from my fingers onto the floor. My body shook uncontrollably, and I pressed my uninjured hand over my eyes as I fought to breathe evenly as all the tension seeped out of me.

I was alive.

But why?

This resembled Vaelor’s prior attempt—his kind words meant to persuade me to drink. Maybe he’d make me lower my defenses, and when I was asleep in bed or naked in the water, he’d appear to take the revenge he’d always desired.

The more I thought about it, the more likely that seemed.

I rose, backing away from the nightgown and the bath. I refused to touch it. To touch any of it. I wouldn’t fall for his tricks. And even if I possessed no means of defense against a spirit, I wouldn’t be caught unaware.

My limbs felt weak and achy as I crawled onto the bed and pressed my back to the stiff wooden backboard. I didn’t get under the covers. Pulling my legs up under my dirty, plain dress, I wrapped my arms around them. I held the cloth to my injured hand, pressing hard, using the pain to keep me grounded and awake.

And I watched the door.

I don’t know how long I sat there, watching, but at some point my resistance waned. Exhaustion from the day’s events made my eyelids heavy. It came crashing onto my shoulders, and my head drooped.

Lord Vaelor stood in the dining room with spiderwebs crisscrossing the walls. He brushed his hand over my face while he tilted the goblet of blood past my lips.

“Take it, little human,” he said in a deathly soft voice. “You know you want to.”

I tipped my head back as the metallic taste slid over my tongue and down my throat, all the while his orange eyes gazed at me, both deadly and possessive.

He lifted the goblet. “There.” His nails scraped across my skin, leaving icy trails while his other hand slipped into my hair. “Now you belong to me.”

I sought to stagger away, but his hold was too firm. Horror built in me as fire shot up my throat. Poison. I’d let him kill me.

Then Vaelor’s face transformed—eyes growing larger, head flatter, massive tusks protruding from a huge, elongated jaw.

Raxus glared down at me. Sneering and triumphant, his fist in my hair. “The boy is mine.”

He jerked my head painfully, and Gerand was there, crying, screaming, reaching out to me. “No,” I choked as the poison took its hold, the heat of it scorching me, making me hoarse. “Gerand. Please. Please.”

They carried him away, the dark mist of my dream swallowing him. Leaving me alone with nothing but agony and emptiness as I gagged and my own blood spilled from my throat, falling from my lips. I’d die here, and Gerand would be gone for good. Nobody to help. Nobody to save him.

“Gerand!”

At first, I thought the sound of breaking glass was just my heart shattering, but a moment later my eyes flew open and I whipped my head up. I was in Lord Vaelor’s manor—the room still and dark. I breathed hard. Cold sweat covered my body. A nightmare. It had only been a nightmare.