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With a choked gasp, I dropped to my knees and crawled across the old hardwood planks and huddled in a shadowed corner outside the stained-glass door. A small bench provided further cover. Even with my spell masking my movements, I felt a harrowing need to hide.
My worst fears came true as I watched Alistair stalk through the library, completely unaffected by the rays of sunlight dancing across his pale face. On his finger gleamed the talisman that allowed him to daywalk far longer than any vampire I had seen before.
His steps faltered as he passed by my huddled form, his hands gripping the door handle in an ironclad grip. “You shouldn't be here, little witch,” his husky voice gritted out ominously. “I thought I made my orders incredibly clear that if I caught you disobeying, you wouldn’t like the consequences.”
I held my breath as he retraced his steps, searching the second story.
“I can sense you’re here, witch.” His eyes flickered past me, unfocused. “Your spell is good, but not infallible. Your magick is so… familiar.”
As he stepped closer to where I shook wildly, he suddenly paused, gleaming black boots hovering in my eyeline.
“Don’t lose your reckless bravery now, after you’ve come this far,” he taunted. “Though I can’t say I’m surprised. Witches are simpering, weak creatures who deserve all the plights served to them over the centuries. If I had my way, I would wipe you all from Gaia, just as I wiped the Bled Coven to the ground.”
Fear transformed into rage within me. I wanted to scream. To tear the Vampire King limb from limb. While he blamed witches for his suffering, he benefited from a mystical object created from said witches as the worst sort of hypocrite.
As my emotions plagued me, I didn’t notice his words lulling me into a false sense of security. Still hunched beneath the bench, I didn’t notice my magick wavering. When his boots shifted away, I sagged with relief. But that hope was short-lived as the wood was suddenly ripped away and his face stared back at me, inches from my own.
A slow grin with bloody fangs curled his lips. “Got you.”
As his arms reached to grab me, impossibly fast, I reacted with a burst of magick that sent him flying backwards. He didn’t crash into the railing as I had hoped, recovering supernaturally fast while I beelined for the stairs.
His foot lodged between mine, sending me sprawling down the steps. My hands moved to catch my fall, but with each descending bump, I felt the answering assault on my face, legs, and stomach until I landed in a wounded heap on the landing.
Through the unimaginable pain, I tensed to jump to my feet and flee, despite knowing there was nowhere in the castle I could hide from the vampire, when another pair of boots straddled my face.
Silas.
Here in the lower portion of the library, the sun remained hidden away. Silas’s eyes were impenetrable grey orbs as he watched blood seep from the cut on my forehead blankly, only releasing me from their hold when Alistair joyfully bounded down the stairs.
“A most amusing sight to behold, is it not, Silas?” Alistair guffawed, losing the façade of the cool, calculated king. “It has been far too long since I was on the battlefield, delighting in the spoils of war. Especially not with a pliable, breakable little warmblood. Witch or not.”
He kicked me in my side, making me curl into a fetal position, protecting my broken body as tears spring behind my eyes.
“Come along, Silas. Help me drag her to the dungeons. Perhaps a few nights in the hold will hasten her to do my bidding.” Another blow landed on the side of my face, and his cruel laughter echoed in my skull. “If she doesn’t adapt, New Orleans is a simple flight away. Or perhaps we’ll try Mykonos first. That is where the youngest Belle is currently visiting, by my reports.”
This time, I wasn’t able to control the sickening lurch of my stomach.
I vomited in a gush of bile and water, making the vampire king huff with disgust. My mind and body revolted at the horror unfolding around me, and I barely felt the firm but gentle arms lift me to my feet.
When my broken leg hit the hardwood, I nearly blacked out from the sharp pain shooting through my shin. My knees buckled, and I would have landed on my broken bone if not for Silas’s quick reflexes.
Alistair stalked ahead as Silas blessedly lifted me into his arms, so I wouldn’t have to struggle on foot down the barren steps that led to the Vasyliev dungeons. We moved in a haze until I felt the temperature’s swift drop.
“Leave her here. And don’t be gentle about it,” Alistair ordered sharply.
I barely heard Silas’s brief inhalation before he tossed me onto the cold stone while Alistair slammed the steel cage door shut.
This time, I lost consciousness. As I drifted into my quiet torment, I heard Alistair’s laughter and feared that sound would be the last thing I heard before I died, leaving my sisters to pay for my failure for the last time.
28
During the sliver of hours before dawn the night of the Winter Solstice, I feared I had finally reached the precipice of violent madness once and for all.
Your past will one day haunt you, Alexei, and when that day comes, I pray to the Goddess you have the strength to handle your guilt.
Vera’s last words rung in my mind, still as fresh as the night everything changed.
Chained in my father’s dungeons, she had watched me with none of her previous affection I craved. Pain and hatred glittered in her eyes while my father’s tortures continued well into the morning. I had fled when he landed the killing blow.
