by Ali Winters
He plucks the napkin from me and swipes at my cheek, dislodging a small bit of meat I’d missed and wiping the rest of my face like I was a child, then straightens. Cassius searches my eyes. He frowns then turns away, walking to the door.
“Get some rest while you can. I will not go easy on you in the morning just because you decided to mope about things outside of your control.”
There is so much I don’t understand about him. Nothing I say or do gets under his skin. I suppose I should be grateful because other than Alaric, he is my only ally.
Cassius stood up for me during the trial and has taken it upon himself to train me.
But he has also lied and attempted to manipulate my situation for Elizabeth…
I breathe deep and blink into the darkness that envelops the room. Straightening, I wince at the twinge that developed in my neck after falling asleep sitting up.
My eyelids droop as I consider lying down and going back to sleep when I hear the sound that woke me.
Clara…
Clara…
… Clara…
The soft whisper of my name pulls on my consciousness.
Clara…
The slow rhythm of my pulse speeds up. Scooting forward, I drop my feet to the floor. I grip the edge of the mattress and peer into the dark.
“Who’s there?” The words come out weak and dry, scratching my throat. I wait in the answering silence. My fingers twitch, wanting to reach for my dagger.
Then, I feel it.
The lightest tug within my chest. I rub my hand over the spot. I focus on it as it grows stronger.
Is this… the mark?
The possibility that Alaric is using our connection to lead me to him has my pulse vibrating in my veins. I push up from the bed, finding my legs stiff and aching.
Carefully, I pluck the night-forged dagger from under my pillow and strap it to my arm. Then, crossing the room, I slip into my suede boots near the door.
I peek out into the dimly lit hallway. The usual bustle of activity has yet to start for the night. Quietly, I step out of my room and close the door behind me. I keep close to the wall, hurrying toward the stairs leading up to the third floor.
The worn leather soles of my boots pad softly against the stone. I stick to where the shadows are thickest. Halfway down the hall, the sensation shifts. I stop trying to lead it where I want to go and focus on where it’s pulling me—which isn’t up to Alaric’s rooms, as I assumed, but down through back halls.
Is it possible that he’s waiting for me somewhere else?
With each passing second, the pull intensifies. I pick up speed, taking the stairs two and three at a time, hurtling down toward the lower level.
The sense of urgency continues to build with every step until I’m nearly crawling out of my skin with anticipation. I jump the last three steps, landing in a crouch that jars my knees and taking off in a run.
There’s a single torch lit at each end of the hall, but I don’t slow until I pass the training room.
What I had assumed was the end of the hall turns out to be a sharp corner that descends farther beneath the castle. I wrinkle my nose at the overpowering musty air and mildew wafting up.
I hesitate, not wanting to enter the inky darkness below.
Why would Alaric lead me this far?
I glance down the stairs then back the way I came, not sure I want to go down, but the tug in the center of my chest twinges, urging me to continue. I suck in a deep breath and take one step then another.
My eyes strain against the insufficient light to see the details, but I can’t make out more than the next step. It slows my progress, which only seems to increase the impatient pull.
There’s an eerie familiarity about this place. I can’t shake the feeling that I know where I am, even though I’ve never been this far down before.
The darkness is so thick I expect to walk into a barrier. Finally, the gentle glow of another candle set against the wall on a step comes into view. I pick it up and use it to guide me down, down, down. It is several minutes before I reach the landing. There is nothing here but a single metal door straight ahead.
Grasping the handle, I pull. It opens without resistance. The hinges are quiet. Almost as if they’ve been taken care of regularly. Cool, damp air washes over me. The scent of mold and rot stings my nose. It’s silent with a steady drip of water somewhere deep inside.
I step out into the long hallway. Along one side are several doors with small barred windows near the top. The metal hinges and locks shine like new against the rotted wood. Cobwebs adorn nearly every corner, thick and wispy, moving with every breath I take.
I pause at each door to look inside, but they’re all empty.
“Alaric?” I call out, attempting to whisper, but my voice echoes. I cringe at the volume.
If he’s here, he doesn’t answer.
Goosebumps erupt over my skin. Closing my eyes, I feel for the pull to lead me back the way I came. I wait and wait. After several long seconds, I give up. I feel nothing.
The pull is gone.
Pivoting on my heel, I turn to leave.
Chains clank, followed by softly spoken words too low for me to make out.
My heart thuds against my ribs, afraid he’s locked away, unable to call out, but needing me. Before I know what I’m doing, the tug has returned, pulling me toward the cell at the end of the hall.
I press my palms to the door. The wood is soft and worn with a thin layer of dust. On instinct, I turn the handle, but it resists, locked.
“I appreciate you trying to free me, but the queen isn’t in the habit of leaving prison doors unlocked,” the voice within rasps.
I jump back as if the handle shocked me. Night-forged silver.
Alaric isn’t the one on the other side.
This place… It feels…
Shaking my head, I back up several steps and look at where I am with fresh eyes.
On a wall, doused in darkness, is a thin slit, only noticeable because it’s a shade darker than the shadows that cloak it.
This is… Oh, demons and saints!
I came through the main entrance rather than the hidden passage. My blood roars in my ears. I would run, but I’m not entirely sure my legs would carry me.
“Where is Alaric?”
“Why would you think he is in a place like this?” the person on the other side asks.
I spin, facing the door, brows scrunching together. “Why would he lead me here if he wasn’t?”
The voice laughs, and a dull ache throbs in my head.
“What makes you think he has anything to do with you being here?”
“I—” Clearing my throat, I try again, “Because he led me here through our connection from the mark.”
The prisoner chuckles. “Stupid girl, the mark doesn’t work like that. Your prince is lost to you.”
“Demon shit!” I shake my head, backing up until I hit the wall.
“If he is not lost to you yet, then he will be soon enough.”
My hands ball into fists at my side. “There’s no way you could know that.”
“Free me, and I can help you.”
I open my mouth to retort then clamp it shut as the words sink in. “Why would I free a prisoner? You obviously did something to deserve being locked up.”
“Ah, so then, you are an ally of the queen?”
“I… Of course not.” I scoff.
“Then free me.” Their voice grows closer to the door.
“I don’t think I should.” It finally clicks. This place… I’ve been here before. I blow out a breath, relieved I finally understand. “This is a dream.”
“You are right.” They release a heavy sigh. “This is a dream, but before you go, at least come in and give me a drink of water. The guards keep it out of reach.” The voice sighs.
A choking laugh rips from my throat before I can stop it. “I’m reckless, not stupid.”
“I am chained. There is nothing I could d
o to hurt you.” For emphasis, the prisoner rattles their chains. “Look for yourself. If this is a dream like you suspect, then where is the risk? And if it’s not, then you’ve help bring relief to one of the queen’s prisoners.”
I scrape my teeth along my bottom lip.
It feels real, but Alaric assured me that it was a dream… A place like this can’t possibly exist.
I inch forward and lift up on my toes to look inside. It’s dark, with only the light from the hall shining inside.
Whoever it is sits in the corner. A shadowy arm, shackled in silver, reaches for the light, stopping with the length of the chain pulls taut.
It’s just a drink of water.
Pulling the dagger from its sheath, I pick at the lock. It only takes a moment before the springs inside give, and it snaps open. I blow out a breath then step inside.
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen a human face,” the voice, vaguely feminine now, says. “Come closer.”
I move deeper into the cell stopping halfway inside. There isn’t a bucket, no bowl or spoon, no way to give them a drink.
“How are you alive if you haven’t seen anyone in a long time?” I ask, but I know the answer before the final word leaves my mouth.
The prisoner is not a vampire, human, or even a shifter. Darkness churns around them. This is a demon.
The realization hits me with such force my vision wavers. I stumble back. My boot catches on the uneven ground, and I land hard on my rear.
“Do not worry, girl. These chains that bind me are night-forged silver. I cannot escape until they are broken. I am eternally bound to this castle.”
Wisps of power reach forward from the charred, dry skin, brushing along my boots. I can feel them willing me closer. I stand, but I remain rooted in place.
“What do you want with me?”
The demon stretches out their arm as far as the chain will allow, unfurling their fingers. I take a few steps closer to see what it is. A small silver band. “To give this to you.”
“I want nothing from a demon.”
They chuckle. “This is not just a piece of jewelry but night-forged silver. The metal has the power to destroy, yes, but it can also create objects of great power that you can wield, if you so choose.”
“Why me?” I ask, knowing how ridiculous this is—talking to a demon in my dream. They could answer with anything, and this would still only be a night terror.
“You have been touched by several demons. Their powers linger, flowing through you even now.”
I swallow. “You… you said that before…” This is the demon from my dream in the cells. “Varin?” I press my palm to my throbbing forehead. “But how… when you’re locked up here?”
I blink, realizing too late how close I inched while we talked. Close enough to embrace… if anyone would ever want to embrace a—
The demon snarls, “You foolish girl, this isn’t a dream!”
Faster than lightning and twice as dark as any shadow, the demon lunges forward. Their body collides with mine. I suck in an icy breath as they pass through me as if they were nothing more than fog.
The world tilts, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut, hitting the ground hard again.
When I open my eyes again, the demon is sitting where they started in their twisted skeletal form. They watch with red eyes that seem to glow in the low light.
Not a dream.
I look down, and on my right middle finger is the silver band, warm against my skin.
I need to leave.
“I will never free you,” I snap, scrambling to my feet.
I pry the ring from my finger and throw it into a dark corner. Then, I race from the cell, slamming the door. The lock clicks back into place, and I run to my room without stopping.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Alaric
Another day, another summons. It’s the same thing, the same conversation.
Elizabeth sits with her legs dangling off the arm of her oversized chair, sipping on a glass of blood. She watches me through pale lashes that sweep over the rim of the cup, eyes never leaving me for a second.
For two days, I have not returned to see Clara. Every time I think there might be an opportunity, she is either gone, or Kharis is flying around nearby.
“Do you know why I asked you here tonight?” Elizabeth asks.
Holding back an irritated growl, I answer, “Yes.”
She swivels in the chair, setting her feet delicately on the ground before standing. Each movement is smooth and graceful—all part of her act. Her loose tendrils of flaxen hair trail down her back to mid-thigh. “Then, will you finally submit and become my consort?”
“How many times must we do this?” I ask. Weariness seeps into my voice. I am tired of this never-ending dance.
“As many times as we need to.” She brushes her fingertips over her collarbone, hooking the thin chain of her necklace around a finger, twisting and untwisting. “You seemed so genuine the other day…” Her lavender eyes darken to crimson as her demon’s power coalesces within her. “Or was that for the benefit of someone other than myself?”
In a blink, she is across the room, standing inches away. Her heavy perfume fills the space between us, thick and cloying. She reaches up and presses a hand to my cheek. I avoid jerking away as her touch sends waves of revulsion that churn my stomach.
She has been a vampire for hundreds of years and has yet to learn that she cannot manipulate the feelings and minds of others, molding them into whatever she wants. She might have the power to compel obedience, but it will never be real.
“I did try… but it’s no use. I do not want the life you offer.” I take her hand and slowly pull it away, lowering her arm. “Please, Elizabeth, give this up. I do not want to be your prince. I’ve never wanted that. Plenty of others would kill for this. You don’t need me. Cassius—”
“I don’t want him. You are the crown prince, fated to be by my side. It was foretold by the oracle witch almost three hundred years ago. I have waited long enough for you to take your place. It’s time you stop avoiding your responsibility.”
“I don’t care what some witch may have told you. I do not want this.”
“You say that…” she purrs, running a finger up my chest and hooking her hand around the back of my neck. “Like you have a choice.”
“There is always a choice. It is a matter of deciding which consequences you can live with.”
“Bow to me, and you have my word that the human will not be harmed… no matter what crimes she commits.”
She could be lying, or she could see keeping Clara safe as an opportunity to keep me under her thumb.
I shift back on my heels to create distance between us, but she holds on, moving with me. Elizabeth rises on her toes and presses her mouth to mine. To the world, it would appear to be a simple kiss—but it’s far more than that. Her fangs snag against my lip, drawing blood. Her power wends its way around me, invading my mind, tuned into my own.
The cuts on my cheek and neck.
And every other drop of blood she drew in every meeting. It was more than a threat, more than a failed seduction. She drew on my power, drop by drop, all so her demon could connect to Cherno and overpower them, seizing control.
Red sparks up and down my arms as I pushing against her, struggling to force her out, but she is stronger, resisting my efforts.
The room is cast in a soft red glow. No matter how hard I fight, I am pulled down by the undertow of her power. Waves of it crash around me, swallowing me up into its depths. Darkness constricts on my consciousness, leaving pinpricks of my own will.
Slowly, I relax my muscles. The less I fight, the less she pushes. I rein it in, slowly… carefully breaking our contact.
I keep my mind silent, void of thoughts, burying all emotions and anger into the dark recesses of my mind. I gaze at her face, imagining it to be anyone’s but hers.
She has won. Now, she must believe it.
I feel the wo
rds rising to my tongue like bile. They twist my gut. “If you want me, then I am yours, my queen.”
Elizabeth narrows her eyes. We remain perfectly still for a long moment. Tendrils of her power brush against mine. I pull mine back, allowing her all the room she desires. She untangles her fingers from around my neck and releases me. A slow, sinister smile creeps up on her lips.
Agreeing to obey her commands is not the worst I will have to endure. However temporary, I retain the majority of control over my mind and body, but this is only the first step in losing every last sliver of freedom.
“What of the girl?” She arches a single delicate brow.
“What girl?” I ask, completely void of emotion.
Elizabeth tsks. “We both know who I’m talking about.” She’s testing me. One wrong word could ruin everything. “What would you have me do with her? Kill—”
“What you do with her is of no consequence to me,” I say flatly. “Give her to Cassius. He is always begging for my scraps.”
She barks out a sharp laugh. “How delightfully spiteful.” She takes my hand in hers. “How I’ve missed this side.”
I don’t reply.
Elizabeth leads me deeper into her room for one final test. I follow, dreading spending any time with her. She drops my hand when we reach the center of the room and moves about as if I’m not even here.
She pushes the straps of her dress off her shoulder, letting the material pool around her feet.
The room has remained the same since I last stepped foot in here, down to every last detail. It is a room I’d hoped to never see again. A low fire burns in the hearth. Elizabeth slips a thin nightdress over her head before finally turning back to me. My blood chills in my veins from her expression.
“You may go,” she says, “but return before nightfall.”
I bow at the waist and say, “Yes, my queen.”
As I turn from her, I don’t dare to breathe until I’ve closed the bedroom doors and have left her rooms behind me.
Outside in the hall, I rake my fingers through my hair. I may have more power than any other court members, but it means nothing when she can still force her will over me without effort.
