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Blood signatures are a vampire’s promise. Get them to sign with their blood and it’s a guarantee that they can’t turn their back on it. Of course, some vampires can resist the consequences better.
“Make sure the blood signature is thick and clear,” she blurted out, then clamped her mouth shut when he gave her a baleful look. She needed to stop pushing her luck, didn’t she?
But the thing was, she had been pushing her luck for quite some time now, from jumping into the Otherworld, then jumping from one island to another in her eagerness to discover everything she had learned since she had gotten those coordinates and written about them. The word “fraud” trickled through her mind, but she brushed it off and tried to focus on what she needed now: to get out of Ostrov Krov alive.
When he was done wounding himself and letting drops of blood out, he gestured until she held out her hand. Nerves flitted in her system when there was no choice but to step forward, and this close, the flawlessness of his face became even more apparent. She looked down and sucked in a breath when his thumb pressed against her palm, sealing the deal…and then it was over. The surprising warmth from the pressure stayed with her while he smoothly kept the transaction going.
“From now on, you are officially part of my house and are protected by the power it holds. You will be watched by someone I trust to ensure your safety.”
“Not to ensure that I don’t escape?”
At that, a smirk played on his lips, drawing her gaze there. “You accepted my blood. You trying to escape will be the most excruciating pain you will ever experience, so I suggest not putting yourself in that miserable position.”
She shuddered but had already known this was how it was going to turn out. The man was infuriating—but she knew she would have done the same. Winter nodded.
“Fair enough.” Then something occurred. “I need to know the name of the master I’m serving.”
For the first time, a glint came in those cold eyes. Was that amusement?
“It’s Nate. Stay here. I will get someone to take you to your new room and get you acquainted with the castle protocols. Welcome to House Hendricks, Winter.”
It was only when he was already out the door that her stomach clenched as it finally sank in.
“Holy freaking moly.”
She had just gotten herself tied to the royal family.
“Miss Winter, here are your provisions while you stay in this room. There’s a bell, too, in case you need to call for me, but I’m often in the kitchen helping out with the rest of the staff, anyway.”
The woman was a young brunette with a long nose and a cheerful smile, and there was no malice in her tone, unlike all the other servants Winter had met when she had pretended to be a servant during her first land here. Winter waited for more instructions, then cleared her throat when none came.
“How did you get here, and what’s your name?”
Surprise gleamed in the woman’s eyes, but she answered readily. “I came from Centro, traded by a merchant. And my name is Hilda.”
“Do they treat you well?”
Hilda blinked at that but recovered swiftly, an image of composure. “Yes. Master Nathaniel is a fair man who gives his servants plenty of provisions and freedom around the castle.”
Nathaniel. Nate.Somehow, both names fit, but the former even more so with the elegance he exuded.
“Like blood parties?”
“The master doesn’t hold blood parties,” Hilda said, baffled. “That’s his brother’s specialty.”
Brother, as in… “The crown prince?”
“Yes. There are parties every week, but we are not allowed to attend.”
Surprise coursed through her chest. Every information that was divulged made her more unsure about who Nate was and what he stood for, particularly since he belonged to House Hendricks: the leading royal family, known for their ruthless, bloodthirsty ways.
“Does he just have sex parties, then?”
The scandalized look on Hilda’s face spoke the truth. “He does not need parties for his needs when he can just have any willing woman at his disposal—and not by force. Master Nathaniel is beyond those games, though we like to give the illusion that he is all about those games.”
Her brows rose. “Technically, that means he is still playing games, then.”
“As he should. The royal family has an image to uphold.” Hilda lifted her chin. “Will that be all, Miss Winter?”
