But what had I expected? That Balthazar Rossi would treat me with respect and kindness just because he’d dragged copious orgasms from my traitorous cock? That this Original vampire had feelings for me? I almost snorted at my own ridiculousness, then remembered Sorcha’s hurt. Yeah, Balthazar was someone people craved, yet no one ever affected him. No matter his small acts of kindness, his heart was shrouded in ice. I needed toremember that. He’d kept me alive for no other reason than his alliance with Connor, even if he’d enjoyed the physical side of it. Or had he? I had no recollection of touching him intimately, only his forearms to feed. It had been his hands on me. That thought left a sour taste in my mouth. It had been me begging, me needing him, not the other way around.
“You will remain there on your knees until Davlov brings your food.”
“No, you said I’d only be on my knees for you.” I started fighting the compulsion.
Bal nodded once. “It is. He will not look at you or engage with you.”
Fury built an inferno in my chest. “But he will know…”
“He will. But this is a vital lesson in control. He will not hurt you or mock you. Dav understands how important it is that you allow me to control you when you cannot yet control yourself. This isn’t about humiliation. It’s about the safety of those around you. When he has left, you may move, but you will remain in this room. Sorcha is safer if you stay here.”
My nostrils flared, but I knew he was right.
“And Shane?”
“What?” I hissed between my clenched teeth.
“Eat everything on that tray, but do not touch the blood in the cool box. That’s mine, and I will not have the scent of another vampire on you. I will return to feed you again later.”
My stomach flipped as I realised he was actually leaving. No matter how strong I was as a shifter, I wasn’t even a fully turned vampire yet, and I had no idea what to expect. What would I do if the bloodlust came on while I was alone? Could I break that door down? I didn’t want to hurt Sorcha, although feeding on that cold bastard Davlov wouldn’t be a chore. As soon as the thought of hurting Sorcha entered my mind, pain ripped through my chest, and my wolf howled.
Bal opened the bedroom door. He didn’t even glance back before he stepped out and pulled it closed. Before it snapped shut, a scream blew in on the breeze, followed by the staccato sound of gunshots.
The door slammed open again. “Stay here!” Another wave of compulsion slammed into me before Balthazar literally disappeared.
“Wait! You fucker!”
9
Shane
I hatedthat I was actually compelled to do as he said. The scream had been Sorcha, and there was no way I’d leave her at the mercy of whoever was attacking the estate. I fought the hold on my mind and body, my wolf raging until sweat covered my skin and ran down the groove of my spine. I slapped my palms against the mirrored closet door and fought to get to my feet. Pain ripped through my head. Staggering, I made it to the door. Not giving a shit about my nakedness, I yanked it open. My skull felt like it was going to explode as I stepped out of the room, but, no matter my discomfort, I wouldn’t stay hidden in a fucking bedroom like a weak-assed coward while Sor and Bal were in danger.
Holding on to the bannister, I dragged myself to the top of the curved staircase. The need to head back to the bedroom almost overwhelmed me, but the further away I got, the more the pain in my head receded. By the time I’d hit the bottom step, I was upright and able to take a full stride.
I knew better than to panic and run blindly into an unknown situation. I inhaled. Bal’s scent still lingered, but it was drowned out by a bunch of scents that I didn’t know. I heard the sound of wood and glass splintering somewhere towards the back of the castle. Glancing around, I looked for a weapon. There were none in this part of the castle, but I knew where there were some. Many, in fact. Silently, I made my way through the dim corridors to the main doors. The foyer had dozens of old swords, lances and axes displayed on the walls. It didn’t matter if they were sharp or not. I could easily kill with them. I’d been forced to use all kinds of weapons in the fight rings of the prison.
With as little noise as possible, I unhooked a sword from its display stand and, on silent feet, headed to the back of the old castle. This was a part of Bal’s home that I’d never wandered through before. It was dark, but it might as well have been lit like a beacon. My sight was better than ever, and the sound of unfamiliar voices carried clearly. My wolf growled, though I kept the sound contained. They definitely weren’t voices I recognised, and I’d heard all of the guards that patrolled the castle and estate.
Fuck, had the gunshots been a distraction? Instinct told me they were. I padded along the corridor, pressing myself up against the wall and listening to what was being said.
“Where the fuck is it?”
“The map said it was here. Right fucking here. I don’t understand.”
“Search the wall again. It has to be here. We can’t go back without Hamilton.”
I lowered into a squatting position. My wolf rumbled, his desire for violence clear. Gently, I placed the sword on the floor and straightened. He was right. I didn't need a weapon. I was a monster now. Some kind of half-shift seemed to be favoured by my body, so instead of worrying about my inability to fullyshift, I let my bones stretch. Blood coursed through my veins. Immediately, the stench of the intruder's scent sharpened, and my top lip curled. These strangers shouldn’t be in Bal’s home. Savage anger rolled through me. My claws grew, my vision turning red. I stepped into the corridor beyond.
All the intruders continued to search the wall, unaware of the predator stalking them.
“Shit, we’ve been screwed,” one of them said, panic evident in his voice.
“No shit, Sherlock! That moron clearly didn’t have a clue. The boss is gonna have a field day with his sweet arse.”
The other one huffed, then froze. His attention shot to me, and his eyes widened. He swung his gun in my direction, but he wasn’t quick enough. With a bellow of rage, I swiped my razor-sharp claws at his neck. His head rolled, bouncing against the floor, his blood a fountain that painted the walls red. The sight briefly shocked me. As a wolf shifter, I could cleave open a throat with claws in a partial shift, but it would take more than one swipe to decapitate someone.
I raised my gaze and grinned at my enemy. Maybe being a shifter vampire wouldn’t be so bad.
