by Liza James
A million thoughts. Literally. A trillion, even. So many, I can’t keep count of them. I can’t make sense of them. Shit, I don’t even know where to start here.
But there is one thing that is abundantly clear. A feeling, one I have no war with, one that screams its identity easily and freely.
Anger.
Full blown, complete and total rage.
The second Aggie shuts the door to my new “room,” and I fucking lose it. Suddenly, my hands are flying forward and against Na’amah’s chest. I shove her backwards, a snarl ripping free of my throat as I push her again. “What the fuck is this place?” I yell, and her hands are quick to snap up and grip my wrists tightly. But I’m not finished, and I keep throwing my palms forward while I try to hit her anywhere I can possibly make contact. “What are you people? What is the goddamn Bite, and the fucking thrones, and what the hell happened in that room back there with Lilith?” The questions spill uncontrollably, my chest heaves with rapid gasps while I try to catch my breath between words. It’s impossible though, and I feel the rhythm in which my heart thumps maniacally under my ribs as I fight against her.
Before I know what’s happening, I’m being thrown back against the grand bed in this room. It’s huge, easily a king with ornate golden posts at each of the four corners. The bedspread is a mix of white and blue, the same color as the gemstone encased in the door. More pillows than I know what to do with are intricately placed perfectly at the head of the bed and I can’t argue with the fact that it feels wildly comfortable as I fall back against soft mattress.
Na’amah is forcing my hands down beside my head, her knees climbing on top and straddling my waist in the same moment. She’s towering over me, and I’m thrashing my head back and forth in hopes that my body throws off her balance and momentum. “Calm down,” she speaks, her voice taking on a quality I haven’t heard her use before. It’s soft, and catches me completely off guard as I still my hands in her hold. She adjusts, subtly, and one of her knees slips between my thighs while my eyes train in on her.
Her chest is rising and falling as well, in quicker movements than I anticipate coming from her steely demeanor. I notice the way her soft tits spill just slightly from the tight crop top she’s wearing, and my eyes absently settle there for a moment until I look back up and realize she’s watching me as well. Only her gaze is glued to my parted lips, and as I feel them suddenly go dry, my tongue slips out and along my lower one. A mix of salt and blood linger in my mouth, no doubt remnants of the insane night I’ve had so far.
She watches me, and for one of the first times, I feel something thicker surge between us. A heat, a wave of darkness tied to lust and desire. And as Na’amah rolls her hips slightly forward, her knee presses against my core in a way that has me slightly grinding back. I can tell I’m wet, that hunger of arousal surprisingly pooling inside of me.
But all of this is grounded in so much anger and hatred it’s hard to make sense of. Am I turned on? Or am I so overcome with emotion and confusion that I’m mixing the signals now?
“What are you?” I ask again, my back arching just slightly off the bed while I force my chin up and my gaze into hers.
“Don’t play dumb. You should know what we are by now. Where you are.” She replies flatly and my eyes narrow at her arrogant tone.
“Dumb? You’re fucking kidding, right? You kidnapped me. Stole me from my home. Dragged me through the goddamn earth and into what, a fucking castle? Not only that, but it looks like you’ve done this before with other girls.” I try to pull out of her hold but she presses my wrists even harder into the mattress. A frustrated groan escapes my lips and I force my eyes shut for a moment while I try to rein in my anger. “I want answers, Na’amah.”
“Alca.”
“What does that even mean?” I scream, and suddenly one of my wrists is freed when her hand grips the base of my jaw. Her fingers bite into my flesh, her lips quickly press against my ear. My heart pounds, my skin breaking out in goosebumps while a rush of electricity bursts between us. Anger fuels my desire, but it’s there nonetheless and I find myself using the weight of my hips to try and push her away…or grind against that goddamn leg of hers even more.
Fuck, I can’t make sense of any of this.
Her breath is the only thing in my ear, a consistent sound and feeling I’m oddly calmed by. I cling to it, where everything else is uncertain and strange—I’m alive. She’s alive.
“Master.” She finally whispers the word in a single breath against my skin. I go hot, even with the icy temperature of her body, I’m consumed in flames.
“I will never call you that,” I reply, my lips pulling into a grin while her mouth falls slowly down the column of my neck. My heart continues racing, my skin pulling tight and my legs falling wider as she nestles in close.
“I don’t ask twice.” This time, her words are a threat and I feel the sudden scrape of two sharp points along my throat. What in the— “Do you understand me?” Her other hand releases my secured wrist and tightly wraps around my ribs. Her arm slips underneath me, pulling my body hard against hers while her hips move forward. I can’t help but roll mine back against her as well, that electrical icy current growing and twisting through me as I touch her.
I don’t understand how I’m so turned on here. I want to fight and fuck and refuse to give in while also surrendering to her every demand.
My mind blanks for a moment, going completely quiet while I focus on the feeling of those points on my neck. Her lips close, sucking on my skin before biting in a way that elicits a quiet moan from my mouth. I want to fight this, I do. But I can’t, and I know I won’t in this moment. I can already tell.
Instantly, our bodies sync together in the ways we move. We’re grinding against each other, and I shift my own leg up so that her pussy is sliding along my knee as well. Fuck, I’m soaked, and I vaguely wonder if she’s as turned on as I am in this moment. Or is this all a game to her?
“Say it,” she demands and I can feel the way an orgasm is slowly building low in my belly. Arousal coats my inner thighs, and for a second, I almost give in to calling her master in the language she had spoken.
“No.” I refuse instead, pride swelling in my chest as I mentally stand tall against her. But her hand slips between my legs now, her fingers pressing against the soaked fabric of my tight spandex shorts I wore to the club earlier. Her knee and fingers work together, brushing against my clit without actually slipping underneath my clothes.
Holy shit, she isn’t even fucking me and yet it feels like everything inside of me is begging to be consumed by her hold.
I moan against her touch, my hands moving to tighten around the back of her neck and pull those lips and teeth tighter against me. The tips scrape even deeper, and I absently wonder if she’ll draw blood with whatever this is.
Blood.
The word triggers something in my mind, a familiar warning sign, but one I can’t decipher quite yet while I’m working closer to an orgasm as she touches me.
“Are you going to come for me?” she asks instead, her voice sounds dark and breathy as I move closer and closer to that coil snapping inside of me. God, I want her to fuck me, but I’ll come just like this for her as well.
“Yes,” I whimper, rolling my hips up to meet her fingers as she works me closer. I’m nearing the edge, her teeth biting at my skin in ways that will surely leave marks tomorrow. My own hold on her tightens, my back arching off the bed as I press my tits against hers.
“Good,” she replies haughtily, and in the next moment she’s completely removed herself from my body. She stands back, stepping away from the bed while I lie back completely open and exposed in the wake of a near orgasm.
My head snaps up, my brows dipping low in confusion while my eyes narrow at her. “What the hell?” I bite out, shifting up on my elbows while she turns and slowly walks to my door.
“There’s a dinner party at the end of the week. You’ll attend this with the other girls. You
’ll spend a portion of the night with Lilith. Get to know the others before then; it’s important to connect with them. They are your lifeline outside of me.” She doesn’t even look back as she addresses me, instead she moves toward my door and wraps her fingers around the knob. Once she finally looks back, she meets my gaze head on.
She looks completely fucking unphased. Not a single ounce of arousal, or lust written on her features. I’m here, laying on this bed without any fucking answers, my pussy wet and throbbing from being worked so close to an orgasm without release, and a new fiery rage burning under my skin at the realization that this was her plan all along.
“You didn’t let me fucking come?!” I sit up, speaking each word clearly as I watch her.
She lifts her fingers to her lips, her heated eyes glued to me as her tongue slips out and along the length of them. God, those lips and the movement absolutely seduce me, and I my eyes widen as I watch her. “You didn’t call me Alca. I told you, I do not ask twice, little Kitten. Your actions have consequences.”
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
I want to scream. I want to throw things. I want answers and a release and the knowledge of where the fuck I am. I feel as though I’m having a full blown tantrum, and that in itself is embarrassing. But how do I process any of this in any logical, mature way?
I don’t know. Anything. I know nothing.
“And your actions don’t? The one who kidnaps and assaults and rapes and kills?” I say angrily through clenched teeth.
“I don’t rape,” she states, turning her back on me and pulling the door open before looking back over her shoulder once more. “Believe me Kitten, you’ll be begging for a single scrap of what I can give you soon.” She immediately shuts the door behind her before I even have a chance to respond to that presumptuous remark.
I don’t fucking beg anymore. Not for anyone.
I jump up and rush forward, moving to slam my door shut when I catch the tail end of Na’amah walking into another room. It’s the girl from earlier, when I walked through initially. I felt a different wash of emotions from her when she saw us, something much colder and distant than the other two girls who welcomed me.
My eyes follow them, and the sudden stab of jealousy makes me even angrier to acknowledge. So I don’t.
I stalk over toward the bed and climb on top before resting my back against the pillows Aggie placed at the headboard. I tightly shut my eyes, forcing steady breaths as I count to twenty in a whisper. I try focusing my thoughts, attempt processing what I’m seeing. Key words spring to mind while I try to understand all of this.
Underworld. Blood. The Bite. Thrones. Survival. Escape.
My mind begins putting pieces together, but I can hardly believe what I’m thinking. None of this can be real, can it? My throbbing core and raging headache say otherwise. The soft sheets under my ass and the beautifully decorated room surrounding me says this is all very fucking real.
Knock knock.
I don’t respond, but my eyes quickly widen and dart toward the door as it’s slowly eased open. “Hello?” a quiet, kind voice offers as a young woman suddenly emerges from behind my door. A few other girls follow after her, and I’m surrounded by four women I’ve never met before.
“Hi,” I respond, unsure of what to ask and say and expect from them.
“We thought we should introduce ourselves. I’m Sera.” This one is tall, several inches above me, and wears her long, golden blonde hair in a braid falling down her back. She seems sweet, and quiet. Her small voice and easy smile work to at least calm my nerves slightly.
“I’m Lilac,” the next one says. Her smile is bright and big with her curly dark hair pulled up into a messy knot on top of her head. “And this is Fira and Thalia.” The other two are hovering closer toward the door. Thalia is tall as well, her frame containing beautiful curves and swells that have me taking a second glance as I watch her. Fira is only an inch or two shorter, but her hair is raven black and hangs in waves around her shoulders while she observes in silence.
“I’m Skilla.” I greet all of them, nodding and doing the best I can to offer a sweet smile in welcome. But I want answers, and it takes everything in me to not ask them right away.
“We also have Brielle, but she’s busy at the moment. I’m sure you’ll meet her later.” Thalia speaks this time, her Spanish accent and smooth whiskey tone adding to the calm demeanor she radiates.
Brielle. She must be the one I saw Na’amah with just moments ago. I fight the instinctual urge not to dislike her without even having met her.
“We know this can all be…overwhelming. But we wanted you to know you aren’t alone. And we can answer any questions you probably have regarding all of this.” Fira’s voice is lower, like a smooth vintage wine coating the room in her sweetness.
My eyes brows raise high on my face, my eyes widening as a scoff uncontrollably escapes my throat. “Questions? I have all the questions. I know nothing. First of all, where are we?”
They all go silent and awkwardly glance in each other’s direction, clearly unsure of how to answer this for me. God damn, basic question number one and we’re already having issues.
“Seriously? First question and we’re—” I start, but Thalia is quick to cut me off.
“The Underworld. You’re in the Underworld.” Straight to the point. Her tone is strong and confident as she reveals this.
I blank, wishing I just knew exactly what that meant. “Can we elaborate here?”
“Hell. That’s what most people know this as. It’s essentially Hell.” This time it’s Sera speaking up.
“Hell doesn’t exist,” I refute. I cannot actually believe this, they cannot actually believe this, right?
“It does. I understand it’s hard to grasp at the moment. But you’ll learn to accept it eventually.”
All right, moving on. Clearly we’re on different pages here. “What are they? All four of them.” I’m referring to the sisters. This is truthfully the biggest question I have of all. I want to confirm that my suspicions are inaccurate and ridiculous.
“Vampires. The four Queens of Hell. Na’amah, Agrat, Eisheth, and Lilith.” Lilac this time. Her honey sweet tone breaks the absolutely absurd news in what feels like rainbows and Kittens.
Vampires. Blood. The Bite. The Underworld.
Words spiral and shout and scream and cry in my mind over and over again.
This is already what I was daring to think earlier. But never, never in a million years would I have thought I was correct.
I’m completely silent, each of them watching me intensely while my brain computes and processes what I’m hearing. But in the next instant, everything changes, and a completely maniacal laugh bubbles up from my throat and spills free. I’m laughing loudly, throwing my head back while everything inside of me refuses to believe this is real.
“No, no fucking way,” I try to say, but I’m laughing so hard I can’t seem to catch my breath. The humor is absolutely outrageous, but as my laughter begins shifting into something else, a new wave of fear and anger rip through me. My uncontrollable giggles suddenly turn into tears. Hot streams slip down my cheeks while my smile vanishes into a humorless sob of misery.
“No, no, no, no, no. This isn’t true. This is a fucking dream, it’s a dream.” I mutter the words under my breath, rolling back on my ass and tucking my knees up against my chest while I mentally beg to be woken from this nightmare.
Vampires. Real, living, breathing Vampires.
I truly have traded one monster for another.
I don’t have my phone.
I don’t even know where or when I lost it. But it’s gone. I shouldn’t be surprised. They’d never let me keep something that could somehow tie me to civilization. Fuck, would my phone even work down here?
Stagnant, mundane thoughts have been running through my head all night. I have no idea what time it is, there are no clocks. But the single, large window in my room at least tells me it’s dark outside. So either
middle of the night or early morning.
I can’t sleep. I close my eyes, repeating little phrases in my head in hopes that it calms my mind enough to pass out. But I can’t, and I miss the uncomfortable itch of my own sheets, and the familiarity of the monster in my own home. It’s different now, when I have no idea what to expect from these people—Vampires. At least I knew exactly what Rowan was expecting when he snuck into my room in the middle of the night.
When I wasn’t behaving correctly, or providing enough help around the house when I was home, when the chores weren’t done or his laundry wasn’t folded. I knew what was coming. I could navigate those situations best, prepare myself mentally to detach from reality. But here? I have to stay aware. I have no fucking choice. Because what I may miss here could lead to far worse things than what even my step-brother could do to me.
And I’ve never been faced with worse than him.
So, no. I can’t fucking sleep. I sigh out a breath of frustration, sitting up in bed and running the palms of my hands over my eyes. My heart is thumping at a consistently higher rate, so I focus on steadying my breath and clearing my mind. It’s time to get my own emotional state under control. The more aware and focused I am, the more I can learn, observe, and plan my escape.
Dropping my hands to my legs, I stand and make my way toward the dresser on the opposite end of my room. I run my fingers along the decorative edges, golden swirls and lines are flaked in blue paint as well. It almost looks frozen, like ice has just barely settled over the top. Pulling open the top drawer, I quickly realize there are already sets of clothes neatly folded within. Everything looks simple but comfortable and I pull out a light blue long sleeved cotton top and matching joggers.
After quickly dressing into something far more pleasant, I fold my own clothes and lay them on top of the dresser before stepping toward the window and looking outside.
I’m not entirely sure what I expect, but it isn’t necessarily what I’m met with when my eyes scan over the expanse of dark woods and green grass below. The sky is nearly black, and while I don’t see a moon, there is white light emanating from somewhere. The strangest part of what I see however, are the streaks of red hovering in the sky above. I vaguely think of the northern lights, but these are something else entirely. I don’t feel a sense of awe as I watch them, instead, an eerie wave of absence and vacancy build in my chest.
