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I felt a flutter in my chest where my heart used to be, causing me to squeeze her hand as I laid beside her. A smile played on her lips, and as she opened her eyes, I could see they were no longer entranced and now a unique color of lavender. She was simply breathtaking, and I wanted her to be my secret for all of eternity if she would let me.
“You will never lose me as long as you worship me.”
FRYEJA
1730 FRANCE
When I woke again, I was in a cold, dark place. At first, it felt like I may be outside, but when I felt the jagged edges of rock and cement beneath my fingertips, I opened my eyes to realize I was underground in a very inhospitable cellar.
I must still be in the dreadful castle because the stench of blood is still all around me. Panic rose in my chest when I felt the weighted chain around my ankle. I screamed, I raged with all my might until I was a pile of sobbing flesh and bone on the floor. I should have known better than to try and fight my way out of these chains, I am helpless against metal. I’d done nothing but weakened myself in a childish fit of rage.
I needed to sleep, to rest, and gather all the strength I had to use my magic and astral project. It was my only hope of getting out of here.
My eyelids were heavy, and that matronly voice inside telling me to rest and not be foolish in the presence of The Red King.
The Red King?
Is that who this man was, a king? Perhaps I could leverage this.
Do not provoke him, you must flee as soon as you can.
Flee? I dif not flee.
I needed to find Charity first.
There had to be a way out of here, there always was. It may not be obvious to me right now, but I could figure it out. From what I had seen, I was not being guarded. I could not sense a single heartbeat within a mile and if someone lurked, my hairs would be standing on end.
Surely blood-bag would bet on me being weak, although he seemed to think that I would be able to wake up his progeny from a curse.
I remember now, after the fog inside of my head cleared, mention of The Red King.
I had passed many years in those Welsh woods, and I had seen dozens of men in black coats. Killed nearly all of them…except for a select few.
One of them called himself Dante, and the control I held over the others was not easily held over him. Dante liked me—enjoyed me, and I half wondered if he never tried to kill me simply because he enjoyed the sexual deviance of my powers.
Or he was afraid.
He never spoke much, but he did speak of The Red King.
I clawed at the silver cuff around my ankle, cursing at it until my leg was red and raw. I laid back, one small but scratchy blanket balled up below my head. Closing my eyes, I envisioned Charity and her freckled cheeks, the soft curves of her body that I reveled in touching. I felt my body begin to tingle, then warm as I smiled to myself. The memory of the hot springs forever played on a loop inside my head. S day filled with heartfelt exchanges and a true vulnerability I’d only ever seen in Charity’s eyes. My sweet, soft pet.
I rose, beginning to separate my soul from my body, and as I levitated, I began to see the beauty of the castle I was being held prisoner in.
The structure itself was sturdy, stone and mortar surrounded the stained-glass windows that were taller than a man. Paintings hung on the walls beside the massive tapestries that covered most of the halls and windows.
The quiet of the castle was deafening, and when I heard crying, I knew exactly who was responsible.
Charity.
The smell of blood is back inside my senses, and I balked, wiggling my fingers back at my body. I was returned, and not by choice…it was as if the trance was broken completely. I gasped, sitting up as I returned to my full five senses.
He was nearby.
I was not afraid, but I did not yet have a plan. If I ever wanted to get out of here; alongside Charity, I would have to plan. Thoughts of Charity brought my thoughts to Charles and what he did.
I would not forget.
Did Charity feel as betrayed as I did? Or was she simply blind to the fact that Charles hand fed me to a monster because she was now inside of his protection? Was she crying because she was sorrowful of my being taken prisoner or was she upset because she was betrayed by a person she thought she loved?
