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Two pricks of pain stabbed at my neck.
It lasted all of a second before it exploded into something so horrible that I wanted to crawl out of my own skin. It felt like two nails had simultaneously been driven into my neck, but that wasn’t what hurt the most—it was the way it electrocuted the surrounding nerves, making them scream and blister with pain.
It was pure torture.
Then came the incessant pulling, like someone was drinking from me—pulling the blood from my veins without a care of thought for how much they took.
I had never felt pain such as that before, and I was the bringer of death.
But how could that be? The healers had hacked into my flesh and I could not feel anything. Which meant it could only be one thing . . .
White-hot adrenaline coursed through my veins as panic curdled my stomach.
Sage.
This immense painwas happening to her. From the location and the feel of it, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that shewas being bitten right now. And I was stuck here, unable to help her—to make it stop. It was more than I could stand, especially when I realized who was most likely on the other end of her suffering.
Internally, I roared.
Histeeth had no place inmyfemale’s neck.
Sage
Groggy and disoriented, I stirred from my slumber, uncertain if I had paid the Spirit Realm a visit or not. Not that I would know thanks to the iron collar. I guess if I was looking for a bright side, that would be it—the iron collar blocked all dreams and nightmares and anything in between, which meant I was actually able to sleep.
I opened one eyelid and peered up at the stone ceiling looming above me. I was back in my chambers. I could tell because if I looked hard enough while tilting my head slightly to the left, one of the stone’s markings looked like an old woman’s face, the nose predominant and bulbous. Over the past few weeks, as I’d stayed in my depressed state, grieving Von, I hadstared at that spot in the ceiling more times than I cared to count. Now? I had it committed to memory.
Suddenly, the heavy oak door swung open.
I peered out from the protection of my soft furs, hoping the princely god with those horrible teeth or his redheaded henchman hadn’t returned.
“Good morrow, my lady,” a middle age woman said as she bustled into the room. Her hair was bound beneath a bonnet, despite a few loose gray strands that poked out at the base. She was far from thin, but despite her considerable girth, she moved quickly—too quickly.She grabbed hold of the deep-red drapes and flung them open, a billow of dust wafting into the air, emphasized by the scrutinizing rays of the sun. She coughed. “Oh my, I apologize, my lady. I’ll notify the staff and have these taken outside for a good broom dusting before nightfall.”
I didn’t respond.
Curtain dust was the least of my worries—especially when my neck was still throbbing. I turned away from the bright light, onto my side. Delicately, I swept my finger over the bite marks, wincing even though my touch was faint.
When Von bit me, all I had felt was blissful pleasure.
When the Golden Prince did it, it was stitched with horrific pain.
She scuttled towards me, her hand retrieving the bed warmer pan from underneath my mattress. Efficiently, she walked over towards the fireplace and dumped out the remaining bits of ash and burnt-out embers. The bed warmer pan was new. I wiggled my toes, discovering that they were considerably warm.
Seconds later, she was back beside the bed. Her ruddy, plump cheeks lifted as she offered me a pleasant smile—clearly not worried that I wasCursed, no more than I was worried about her being a mortal. “My name is Brunhilde. I’m your new permanent lady’s maid,” she said sweetly. By way of an addedgreeting, her thick fingers grabbed hold of my fur blankets and she flung them back.
I shivered, the cool, morning air sinking beneath my nightgown and pricking my skin—reminding me of the Golden Prince’steethas they sank into my neck. I swallowed the acidic lump that rose in the back of my throat and blocked the memory out.
Two women walked quietly into the room, the downward positioning of their heads gave them away—myapparentladies-in-waiting. I rolled my eyes at the silly term. Waiting. Waiting for what? A big, strong man to carry them away?
. . . On second thought, that didn’t sound so bad.
Where was Von when a girl needed him?
“From my understanding,” Brunhilde said, “there was not a proper greeting done between you three. Allow me to do so now.” She motioned to the shorter one with brown hair. “This is Naevia.”
The girl performed a quick, efficient bow, her eyes fixed on the floor.
Brunhilde continued, “And this is Cataline.”
