She walks in, holding the door slightly ajar. “Her room is ready.”
Daegan nods and offers me his hand to help me up. I take it and notice how warm he is to touch. “I think perhaps it’s best if you rest and have a bath. Etena is my cousin, and she will show you the way. I am in the room opposite you. If you need anything, just knock.”
I let go of his hand, noticing I’ve been clasping onto it for far too long. “Thank you for offering to protect me. You don’t even know me. Where I come from, people don’t help strangers.”
Daegan inclines his head. “Rest well, Story.”
Etena opens the door for me, and I walk out, waiting for her as she quietly speaks to Daegan out of earshot before she comes back, shutting the door behind her. The very tall woman places her hands on her hips, looking me over. “Did you run through a mud lake on your way here?”
“Just the forest, no lake,” I answer, but she is already moving, walking down a pathway that arches into a circular room. There are three enormous fireplaces made of brick, in square-shaped blocks in the centre, with many, many benches, couches and lush rugs that have people sitting on them—fae-tipped ears and all—and they are laughing. The laughter slowly stops the further I follow Etena into the room, noticing the many, many heads turning to stare. Etena moves faster across the room until we are in another corridor, and the sound of chatter still follows us.
“Did Daegan explain you’re safe here?” she questions. “In this part of the mansion.”
“He told me,” I simply answer. I’m exhausted and done with conversation tonight. I need to process everything that just happened and figure out exactly how I’m going to get out of here before they throw me into the Decidere. I’m not built for trials or dragons or any kind of combat. I’ve never been trained to fight and, knowing me, I’d stab myself with a sword before learning how to swing it at an enemy. We head down the corridors, which are not so empty now, but anyone here steps aside, all giving me strange looks. I can’t imagine what it must be like to them—to never see someone new except a baby. Actually… “Where are the children? I haven’t seen any.”
She answers quickly. “Kept safely away during the Decidere. It isn’t for children to see.” Etena opens a door. This one is guarded like Daegan’s study, and the guards step aside for us to go through. “These are the royal bedrooms. Only you, Daegan, and I sleep here. If you see anyone else in here, run. Kill them if you have to. Daegan would kill them either way for entering his private rooms.”
I gulp. “Kill them?”
She turns to face me, crossing her slender arms. “Yes, kill them? Why do you look so pale at the idea?” I don’t answer her with the truth. I’ve never killed anyone, I don’t like blood, and I’m not brave. I’m not a fucking warrior. “You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to, Story. I understand trauma very well, and looking in your eyes, I know you’ve been through a lot already. I have a soft spot for people like us.”
“Like us?” I frown.
“Survivors. One day, we will exchange our battle stories, cry over them, and bond like friends. Tonight is not the time while you’re tired and injured,” she answers, and bonding with anyone seems really unlikely for me when I want to get out of here, run away and pretend none of this happened. How does she know I’m injured? I’ve been hiding my pain since I got here, something I know I’m good at. “Telling you to trust me is pointless, isn’t it?”
I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t trust people. I don’t trust anyone.” Except one person and he is dead. He died to set me free. He died for nothing. My fingers tighten on the book to the point it creaks. I don’t mean to be hostile towards her, but today has pushed every inch of my soul to the breaking point. I’ve not even had a moment to grieve my best friend, my only friend in the world, and how he’s just gone. He’s gone and he won’t be coming back. I’m not sure how I’ll ever be able to process that. I only need to try to protect myself and not give up. I can’t go back to that dark place I was before my best friend promised to get me out. I gave up on life, I gave up on wanting to fight or live or breathe, and right now that feeling is crawling up my spine, readying to flood my mind with the darkness again. Without him, I know I won’t be able to climb out of that place.
Giving up isn’t an option. Not anymore, not since he died. Etena touches my shoulder, and I focus on the present, on her. “I left some clothes on your bed for you, and I ran a healing bath. We don’t get hot water in here, it’s lukewarm, but…it’s better than nothing. The water has tonics in it made by the Sun healers with dragon tears, and it heals everything.”
Dragon tears?
“Welcome to the Sun Dynasty, Story,” Etena says, bowing her head. “I believe you’re going to surprise us all, more than you already have.” Etena walks away, leaving through the doors we came in. This pathway has four doors, one I’m in front of, and the one opposite must be Daegan’s. The carpet is worn, like it’s been walked on dozens of times, and so is the carpet near the door next to mine, but the areas around the fourth door and mine look almost new.
I walk into the room and shut the door behind me, noticing a flimsy lock, and I click it shut. If these fae are as strong as the powerborn fae, that lock will do nothing to stop them getting in, but I feel better either way. The room is simple, yellow wallpaper like the hallways and wooden cladding panels, which line half the walls. An oil lantern burns on the bedside counter, and I see the bed has soft white sheets as I place the book on the counter. There’s a window, and I go straight over, looking for a handle, but there’s nothing. Just a dark-rimmed window with lines down it in a cross pattern, revealing nothing but dark trees as far as I can see. I touch the glass. “Why did you trap me in here? What do you want?”
I’m talking to a mansion wall. I’ve gone mad. Muttering to myself, I strip my mud-soaked clothes off before climbing into the simmering clear bath, soaking down into the warmth. The pain melts away almost instantly from my ribs, from every small nick and bruise I have on me. I sink fully into the water before rising back out, my swollen cut lip back to normal. My heart is beating fast as I look down at my stomach, my wrists, and legs…hoping the vampyre bite scars will be gone—they aren’t. The silver scars look as horrible as usual, and not an inch of my skin on my stomach, lower arms or legs doesn’t have a mark on them. He may have scarred me, but I’m free of him.
The bath doesn’t last long before it’s freezing cold, and I wash my hair with the lavender-scented soap that smells incredible. After climbing out, I glance at the clothes on the bed as I dry myself off. The gold silky top pulls across my chest, and strips of satin fall down my upper arms. Skin-tight black trousers and clean leather boots, along with new underwear that is all lace—I slide them on, admiring the delicate material and the fact it all perfectly fits. This is much better than a red dress. I haven’t had a choice in what I wear in so long, and if I’m being honest with myself, I’ve only ever known how to dress for my station. Red, for a blood slave. It has made me really hate wearing red.
I find a brush on the side and brush my long hair until it’s smooth and all the knots from the forest are gone. I braid the front part of my hair around my face until it falls to one side.
Once I have nothing left to do, I climb into the bed with the book, opening the first page. It’s an odd book, no title page to be seen in the first few blank pages. The first page is noted and one sentence: “To my reader—I was a dragon rider, and if you’re reading this, I must be dead.” How strange. There is a name scribbled in the corner, but I can only make out the letter B, the rest is scrubbed away. The next pages are the same, one or two sentences about someone who was a dragon rider and something about stones. I like mysteries, and this book is that.
I close my eyes for just a second, my head dropping. I see his face, pure terror and horror written in his eyes. I see his blood pouring onto the stone. A sob echoes out of my throat first, right before I’m weeping and sliding down into the bedsheets. I don’t know how long I cry, at least until it feels like I can breathe again. Wiping my tears away with my hand, I pause as a floorboard creaks. I barely get to look up from under my blanket before I see a shadow standing over my bed, massive male arms reaching for me. On instinct, I kick the man straight in the balls, and his deep, shocked voice echoes. “FUCK!”
He steps back with a groan, and I rush off the bed, running for the door. A hand wraps around my ankle, and I fall face-first on the floorboards, slamming my nose into the ground. I cry out in pain only for a foul-smelling rag to be shoved over my mouth. I barely breathe in the air for a second before everything spins and the darkness becomes a very welcome old friend.
Chapter Four
Page Four.
I was born to the Lightsun city, and I grew up in piles of gold, silver, and jewels sent by the Sun Dynasty for all royal fae children no matter which dynasty they were born, but my heart…it called to the dark. To the moon, and he was my ruin.
Istand before a row of vampyres. Each of them looks nearly the same to me. Same grey or very pale skin, white cloaks, white hats, fangs flashing every time they talk—scientists. Vampyres, not very high up ones, but people trained for district selection day. Blaire told me they would only double-check what she had found out, make a detailed file on my health, age, and anything my new owner would want to know before I would be taken to the preference housing. Two dark-haired girls next to me are crying hysterically, and the other two boys are completely silent. I wonder what is wrong with their health, why they are here with me. They are all a similar age to me, but not from the breeders’ camp I grew up in. I don’t know how many camps there are, but my mother once mentioned there were many.
I can’t help the tears from rolling down my face when I think of my mother, of how she held me and said goodbye. How she looked broken and sad—and there wasn’t anything either of us could do to fix it. My body is shaking from head to toe, but it’s not cold in here, it’s actually warmer than expected in winter. I keep my head up, my shoulders straight, just like my mother told me to do before she left me with Blaire. They both promised me that everything would be okay. That was three days ago, and now I’m going to be taken to a hellhole to be picked like a fruit hanging from a tree. For nothing more than a snack whenever he wants one. Or she. I am hoping for a woman. She might be kinder.
The door opens and all the scientists turn and look as a man walks in. He has curly locks of hair, very pale skin, and he is older. Vampyres age slowly and this man has grey-tinted red hair and a wrinkle on his forehead like he has been frowning too often. His skin is completely drained of any colour, a grey so light it could be white. His eyes are brown, unusual for a vampyre from what I’ve seen in the breeder communities, the few I’ve seen when they come round to do their checks. All of the guards never take off their helmets, but there are vampyres who come to visit fae women who are paid to see them without armour. I didn’t need my mother to tell me why they visit. The horror in her voice was a story enough, and she always hid me when they came.
There’s a pin clipped to this vampyre’s cloak, and I don’t recognise the symbol. It’s a broken hammer, gold on red. The vampyre speaks to one scientist, nodding his head towards me. The scientist turns once and raises his hand to me, indicating for me to walk over. Sickness rises in my throat as I force my legs to move, and I stop next to them both. “You are coming with me, Story Dehana. Don’t fight or I will have them inject you to sleep, and you will still come with me.”
His voice is sharp, clipped, and every time he speaks, I see a hint of ruby red fangs. Why are his fangs red like that? I don’t know how my legs manage to work as I follow him out of the room, down old stone corridors and out into the busy streets. There’s a brown, highly decorated carriage waiting, two white horses tied to the front, and a fae driver sitting on the seat. I only see his fae ears tipping out of his brown hat and his brown clothes. He is a worker.
The vampyre opens the door for me, and I step in before plastering myself to the back of the carriage seat. He steps in after me, and the carriage takes off the second the door is shut. He looks down at his hand before reaching forward and touching the sides of the carriage. I smell magic as it whips through the air, washing over the carriage until there’s almost a shimmery shine on the windows. Magic smells like ash, like something has burnt to a crisp and blown through the air. “We can speak freely now and no one will hear us, courtesy of my driver, a very talented fae who is not meant to have any powers. That will be kept between us, alright?”
Why is he telling me a secret? He doesn’t know me. “O-okay?”
He picks up a pocket watch from his suit pocket, looking at the time before sliding it back. “Story, I don’t expect you to trust me, but Blaire asked for a favour. Blaire, I owe her a great deal. She keeps a lot of secrets for me, which you will have to do as well, living in my house. I was told you can be trusted, just like your mother.”
My voice is too high pitched as I manage to speak. “Did you know my father?”
His eyes flash with something, but he looks away from me. “No. My name is Professor Aleksander Wollke, and you are a blood slave to me now. I have no others. I have never needed to take one, and frankly, I find the whole idea cruel and unneeded. When I want to feed, I usually just get blood from the docks, but I won’t be able to do that now. I will not feed from you directly, but it has to come across that I do. I have no intention of hurting you.”
“Why?” I whisper. A vampyre that doesn’t want to hurt a fae? My mother told me they didn’t exist.
“Because it’s cruel and you are a person. I have tools in my home ready, and they will make it easy for you to pierce your arm and drain blood into a glass for me. I will drink that, but if anyone asks, you are bitten when I want to feed, do you understand?”
