Reign of Nightmares (Blood Throne Book 1)

by Quinn Arthurs

  “Thank you, pet,” she murmured against the skin of his throat before she licked him. My cock ached at the sight of her sinking her teeth into him, and I bit my cheek, trying to force it down as I watched her drink from Ash.

  “I’ll ring for trays,” Crowe offered softly, striding to the bell pull as Ash grunted. The door opened a moment later, revealing a servant bowing deeply to Crowe. “Trays enough for three with human appetites,” he ordered. “Plenty of protein and sugar. Coffee as well. Arrange to have all three continuously brought up every few hours until you’re told otherwise.”

  “Yes, sir.” The servant bowed again, darting down the hallway to do as he was ordered. Elsie pulled back from Sebastian, licking over the wounds before trailing her tongue around her lips to ensure she’d gotten every drop of the blood he’d sacrificed.

  “That wasn’t enough, mistress,” Ash scolded quietly, but Elsie ignored him, tugging her chair closer so she could see.

  “It’ll hold me for now. You know more languages than I do and you’re better with codes,” she replied primly, straightening her sleeves before grabbing her own notepad and pencil. “You’ll need to be just as alert as I am.” When he ceased his objections, they both focused in earnest, their pencils skittering across the pages in their hands. It seemed they were each translating what they could and then planned to compare and piece it together. I itched to help, to do something, anything to fix what Crowe and I had done, but I wasn’t even sure where to start. Even if I ignored the fact that it could cost Elsie and Sebastian their lives due to our mistake, if this failed, both Crowe and I would die as well, leaving Bran behind with no hope of ever attaining his freedom. The thought had pain squeezing my chest tightly, locking air inside my lungs. Failure wasn’t an option, not for any of us. Now we could only hope that these two were as good as we thought they were, or we’d be meeting our brother again in whatever afterlife we managed to reach.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Elsie

  I stared enviously at the coffee Sebastian was drinking as I rubbed my tired eyes. Caffeine had no effect on vampires, but the way these three had been guzzling it back, it seemed to work well enough for them. Exhaustion and hunger were joined by jealousy at the thought, and I forced myself not to pout. A sleep deprived, hungry, jealous vampire was no one’s friend. We had been working for almost two full days now, and while we had made progress on the translation, there were still parts we were debating and one section we hadn’t managed to translate at all.

  “You need to feed again,” Sebastian said roughly, his voice thick with exhaustion despite the coffee he was drinking. It didn’t help that I’d taken a few more sips from him over the last two days, but I still refused to do a full feeding. I couldn’t translate the final piece of this puzzle, and if Sebastian’s health flagged much more, he wouldn’t be able to either, meaning all of us would die sooner rather than later.

  “I’m fine,” I snapped at him before sighing and running my hand through his thick, soft hair, enjoying the way the shades of brown and gold looked against my fair skin. “I’m fine, pet,” I told him softer now. “You’re going to need to sleep for a few hours though.” I tapped pointedly against his notepad where he’d misspelled and crossed out the same word three times. He leaned into me, his shoulders sagging slightly as he nodded.

  “I know. I’m so close though, I don’t want to stop.” He nuzzled his head against my hand, turning into my touch with the ease of a contented house cat. If the man could, he’d be purring at the moment, I realized, with a small spike of amusement. Crowe and Draven had both slipped from the room in search of the ingredients we were confident about for the spell—cloves, aged sea salt, chalcopyrite, angelica, Solomon’s seal, and candles carved with the sigils we had unearthed had all made the list as they searched the castle. “If I can get the last of this done, if we can figure out the final pieces, then we can attempt the ritual. Not knowing when the clock will run out is the worst of it.”

  “You won’t translate it accurately if you don’t get at least a little rest, and if it’s not accurate then how fast you translate it won’t matter, you’ll just be putting the blade to our necks yourself,” I reminded him quietly. “Sleep for now. Just a few hours. I’ll keep working and see what else I can come up with,” I promised him, my heart squeezing tightly in my chest. I had always thought that if my death came before old age, it would derive from a direct fight, one where I could see my opponent coming and lash out with my fangs and claws until I had at least taken my pound of flesh in return for the death they forced upon me. But here, I had nothing to fight, no physical opponent to strike at, merely the echoing tick of a clock that wound down with every beat of my heart. I pulled him to his feet, ignoring the cups of coffee that had been discarded around him as I settled him under the blankets.

  The door opened behind us, and both Sebastian and I froze for a moment before Crowe and Draven slipped inside, their arms laden with boxes and jars which they set carefully aside. “What are you doing?” Draven asked in confusion, watching as I settled my pet into bed.

  “He can’t translate if he’s hallucinating from exhaustion,” I snapped over my shoulder, though my hands remained gentle on my pet. “He’s going to sleep for a few hours while I keep working.”

  “One of you feed her,” Sebastian called out to the waiting twins, ignoring my mutinous expression. “She won’t drink from me anymore, and I’ll need her help when I wake up.”

  His eyes were already closing, his words slurring slightly as his exhausted body gave out. As a vampire, I needed sleep, but with enough blood and enough willpower, I could forgo it for several days at a stretch. I’d be tired, of course, but unlike humans, my reflexes didn’t slow and my brain didn’t misfire until I went too long without blood or almost five days without sleep. Sebastian had clearly pushed himself far past his limits. When his breathing evened out, I moved back to the table, adjusting myself in my chair as I focused on the pieces we still had to decipher. It was clear this spell had not been meant for just anyone, and from what Sebastian and I suspected, the journal we were reading had belonged to a hunter, which might also have accounted for Draven’s innate draw to the small volume. The spell was a mishmash of languages, codes, and directions that had to be sorted through, but so far we had been lucky in what we understood as it seemed the spell could be completed at any time as long as the ingredients and incantation were correct.

  While Sebastian and I were confident about most of the ingredients, there were two we had not been able to finish translating, and we were still debating the accuracy of the incantation as well. All of us knew we were running out of time, and we would soon reach a point where we would have to simply take our most educated guess and pray that if we got something wrong, we didn’t blow ourselves up so we would have another chance to get it right. I tapped my pencil against my notes, debating whether the word in front of me was meant to be release or relinquish when Crowe crouched down beside me.

  “He’s right,” he whispered, purposely keeping his voice too low to disturb my pet’s slumber. “You need to feed.”

  I hissed at him. “Well, since it’s your fault I can’t, you can just deal with a pissy vampire and hope I’ll be so elated to be free of you that I won’t go for your throat as soon as this incantation is said.” Sebastian had been right in his belief that I couldn’t leave my chambers to go to the family meal. When I had attempted it the first day, the same debilitating pain that had struck me upon trying to free him had torn into me, attempting to shred my organs as it forced me back into the room. It seemed I could leave to search for an ingredient or a book or any other physical tool that might assist us, but caring for my own needs was not a priority in the eyes of the universe.

  Crowe sighed, rubbing his hands across his face, highlighting the dark circles that marred his skin and made the deep brown of his eyes look even darker than usual. “Elsie, we’ve already apologized. It’s foolish to starve yourself when I’m offering�
��which I should tell you is something I had never planned on doing for a vampire no matter the reason.”

  The words were slightly chiding and I dropped my pencil, breathing deeply to prevent myself from lunging at him. “First, neither of you have actually apologized for what you’ve done.” Part of me had waited for it, expecting at least one of them to formally apologize for risking our lives the way they had. Yet despite the shock they had shown—even the dismay I had read on their faces—neither had ever apologized. They had merely moved on, working beside us as we poured over the spell in agonizing detail. “Second, I’m well aware you hate vampires and do not want to be used as a food source, which means the oath you bound me with would not let me feed from you as it would be classified as me harming you. As I’ve been blasted by that stupid oath enough times to know it hurts like hell, I’m in no rush to repeat the experience.”

  Crowe stilled, his mouth moving slightly as if he was planning to contest what I said but couldn’t find the words. I snorted, turning back to my notes, blinking hard against the fuzziness trying to blur my vision. He gripped my chin, turning me to face him as he moved from his crouch until he was kneeling beside me. “I’m sorry.” The words were choked, and I wondered if he had ever actually said them before, let alone uttered them to someone he considered an enemy. “I’m sorry for wording the oath the way I did, for not understanding what I could do with it. I’m sorry I have endangered your life. I’m sorry I have endangered Sebastian’s life.” His eyes didn’t leave mine, and he didn’t attempt to look away as he read the blatant fury that was banked inside of me. “I saw that you could help, that we finally had a chance to bring our brother back to us, and I lost my head. I acted without thinking, without looking at every angle, and I’m sorry. Please know, however, that the choice was fully mine in regard to utilizing the oath and choosing the words. If you wish to retaliate after this is over, I ask that you leave my brothers alone. I will ensure they know not to retaliate against either you or Sebastian.”

  “He’s lying.” Draven’s words drew my gaze, and he fell to his knees beside me as well. “I was the one who suggested using the binding oath. I suggested it the night before, and when you confirmed what the spell was, I wasn’t willing to hold back. He might have been the one to speak it, but it was my doing. I’m sorry. Truly, I am. This isn’t Crowe’s fault, it’s mine, and any punishment will fall to me.” He ignored the scowl his brother sent his way, his attention solely on me. “It doesn’t bother me when you feed from me. I admit I enjoy it, so you don’t need to fear backlash from the spell. I’m offering, Elsie.”

  “You both still owe Sebastian an apology,” I muttered. “I can’t focus on whose fault this is or on which of you I would want to punish, nor can I speak for what Sebastian will do, so do not look to me with hope that I can save either of you. There is every chance that Bran is the only one of you three who will live to see the morning after we perform this.” Neither flinched from my blunt words, merely nodding in agreement with the terms.

  “Elsie.” Draven’s voice caressed my name as he cupped his hand over my cheek. His lips pressed softly to mine, the ring in his lip cool against my skin. Before I could pull away, he thrust his tongue between my lips, scraping it hard against my teeth so the heady flavor of his blood filled my mouth as he kissed me. Hunger slammed into me in a wave and I groaned, reaching up to tangle my fingers in his hair. I kissed him harder as my fangs grazed over his lip, opening another wound for my tongue to sweep over. The kiss was violent and messy, a clash of lips, teeth, tongues, and blood. I pulled away from him, panting softly as I licked the blood from my lips. It hadn’t been as effective as an actual feeding, but his blood was potent, buzzing through my veins. Was this what caffeine felt like? I fought the urge to pull him against me again, to take more, to truly drink from him until we were both sated and moaning. Now wasn’t the time for that, though, and I still hated him for what he had done, willingly or not.

  “We’re running out of time,” I reminded him as I tried to breathe evenly. “I’ll let Sebastian sleep for a little longer, and then we’ll finish this one way or another. Start setting everything up, but don’t disturb him or me. Something tells me we’re only going to have one chance at getting this right.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Elsie

  “I still think we translated that part wrong,” I muttered, staring at the finalized list we had made of all of the ingredients the twins would be using in their spell. While Sebastian and I had finished the translation, Crowe and Draven had scrubbed every inch of my rooms from top to bottom until their muscles had trembled and everything had shined. All my books and notes had been placed upon their shelves, and the table and chairs we had spent so much time in had all been removed, leaving the room open for the ritual. It seemed empty this way, even though my bed, wardrobe, and cabinets remained. My life had been those books, those notes, the hope of my people, and yet it all came down to this. A single, rushed translation of an ancient journal that held the power to not only determine our fates, but the fates of our kinds as well. If I died, my people’s hope for a better life would go with me. My parents would easily be able to determine the basics of what happened here, and they would have no choice but to declare an outright war with both the witches and the humans. My family’s line would end, and our kingdom would be thrown into a chaos that might never come to completion.

  Sebastian’s hand wrapped around mine, squeezing lightly, and I turned my head, looking up into his eyes. “One cup blood of an allied vampire is the only translation that makes sense,” he assured me gently, referencing the line I had admitted was still puzzling me while reaching up to brush my curls behind my ear. My hair was still damp, as was his, from the cleansing ritual we had just performed in preparation for what was to come. The four of us were now scrubbed as spotless as my chambers, covered in the oil we had created, and dressed in clean clothing as we reviewed everything for the final time.

  I blew out a breath, nodding my head even as something tickled at the back of my mind, something we had missed. We couldn’t debate any longer, though, or play with any more theories. Another full day had passed since the oath had been called in, and we were on borrowed time. We had to take the gamble that we were accurate, or at least close enough for it not to affect the spell. In the center of the salt circle Draven had created, a sheet white Crowe was arranging the other pieces of the spell, including Bran’s dagger, my blood, and almost a pint of blood donated by both twins. Yet another substitution we were making, it seemed. The spell called for an intimate possession of the one lost as well as a cup of their blood, but that had clearly not been an option. We were banking on the fact that they were triplets, and that although Draven had been the owner of the dagger for the last ten years, he still considered it Bran’s. Personally, I was betting Draven himself was going to be dragged into the circle before we were all blown into pieces, but I had never been what was considered an optimist even at the best of times.

  While Crowe and Draven would be the ones actually casting the spell, both Sebastian and I had taken care to perform the cleansing rituals exactly as described since we would be in the room and my blood would be part of the spell itself. Sebastian’s hands ran through my hair, twining in the strands as he looked over the incantation with me, although I knew we wouldn’t be making any changes now, not when we were down to the final moments. Second-guessing anything wasn’t going to help us now, no matter how certain I was I had missed something. All I could do was pray I wouldn’t pay the price for it.

  I had debated this with myself for the last day, but I wasn’t going to die with this regret inside me. I would die a monster, there was no questioning it, but I’d die a repentant one. “I’m sorry.” I had never once apologized for anything in my life. I was the heir to the vampire throne, the warrior princess of my people. Apologies meant nothing, only power did, but I knew the words were the truest I had ever spoken. I angled myself so I could see into Sebastian’s eyes,
reaching up to cup his face. Since the twins’ spell, he hadn’t bothered pulling on the mask he usually wore, letting his demon run free. It seemed he didn’t want to die with his true self hidden behind a false face, and I could see the violence, the passion, burning in his eyes when they met mine. “I’m sorry, Sebastian, that I brought you into this. You deserve more than this, than being my pet, having to take whatever backlash may be coming for you because I wanted you for myself. I saw something in your eyes when we met, a fire burning there that I craved. You were a gorgeous puzzle and I wanted to see what it would take to discover the picture in your jagged pieces. You were so different from any human I’d seen before, and when your taste hit my lips, I just knew I couldn’t let you go. That you were meant to be mine. I was selfish—I’m a vampire, it’s part of what I am.”

  I laughed darkly at the truth of that, even as I stroked a hand up into his hair, letting the wet silky strands that had darkened to autumn with the water slide over my fingers. “I told you it was to help you, to protect you, but the reality was I simply wanted you. Then I saw the demon inside you, and it was pure perfection—blood, beauty, death, and poetry all wrapped up into one. I wanted you to be mine, and out of reach of anyone else, and in doing so, I likely bound you to your death as surely as these two bound me.” My eyes burned as I stared into his, taking in the hard lines of his face, his high cheekbones, his full lips, his tan skin, as I imprinted it onto my soul. “It may not be worth anything to you, but I couldn’t die without telling you I was sorry—not for wanting you, for craving you—but for the fact I’ll be the cause of that fire burning out. I have nothing to fight here, no blood I can spill to keep you safe, not even my own. All I can give you is the truth.”