I was almost positive my neck was sprained from the sharp pains shooting through my head with each tiny movement. The bites on my shoulders and forearms pulsed with heat in time with my heart. Each night he’d roared in frustration, demanding to know why I was not the “perfect little giver” my mother promised I’d be. I could have told him about my bond with Eamon, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of having an answer—not when the question tormented him.
Lucas threw down a bowl in front of me, the majority of its contents spilling across my hands and the mattress. But I stared at it with hesitation. I wasn’t sure anymore if I wanted to keep eating or if starvation would be preferable. Soon he would take enough my heart might stop and then this could all be over. Perhaps Keryes would welcome me with open arms.
“Eat,” he snapped. When I didn’t move, he snatched up the bowl and held it to my mouth, his other hand jerking back my head by my hair. “Eat or I will force it down your throat.”
With a tremble in my hands that had nothing to do with fear, I complied, taking the bowl from him and shoving the porridge into my mouth with my fingers. A cold palm wrapped around my bare ankle. I jerked my leg back, only for his fingers to tighten. “Now we know you’ve got wings, these precautions are for your own safety.”
I couldn’t help when my mouth twisted into a semblance of a smile. Last night he’d left the door ajar and through my dizziness I’d made a run for it. I’d gotten as far as the landing of the small but lush house before he’d caught me and dragged me by my hair back to the room. But that was how I knew we were in Chynon, not Oylen. The spires of the Covenant’s sister headquarters had been visible through the window. I wasalso almost positive there were other prisoners in the house—only the other night I’d heard a deep rumble of pain and, though I struggled to string even two thoughts together, I could have sworn the voice was familiar.
The metal shackles were as cold as his skin and I watched mutely as he took a shorter chain to connect them to the shackles around my wrists. Once I was bound, he grabbed my waist, hefting me over his shoulder. I let out anoofas the air whooshed from my lungs but the chain was too short to use my hands for leverage to adjust. Lucas carried me out of the room, not bothering to steady me as he used his preternatural speed. My head spun when we appeared in what looked like a gentleman’s parlor, though instead of the bottles of human liquor and wine, there were decanters of what I assumed was synthetic blood twinkling in the candlelight of the chandelier.
Another immortal waited on one of the settees, ankle crossed over a thigh. He did not stand as Lucas tugged me closer, but violet eyes flicked from my face, to my dirty dress, down to my bare feet.
“Goddess, Lucas, you do not treat your toys well,” the male chided, clucking his tongue.
“Don’t act like it doesn’t make your cock twitch,” Lucas growled, thrusting me toward the stranger.
I stumbled, my foot catching in the thick rug. The male watched impassively as I fell to my knees before him, wincing as my ankle twisted in the cuff. Unlike most men of this time, his sandy-brown hair was cropped short to his skull and left a little longer on the top. He reached with a delicate hand to grab my chin, fingers pressing until my mouth opened.
“Despite her…wear”—he shot Lucas a look—“she is the beauty you promised.”
Merciful fucking goddess… I blinked, my stomach roiling around the porridge that was turning to stone.
“Three thousandoyista,” Lucas demanded.
The male’s brows ticked up as he brushed back my hair, inspecting the unhealed bites at my throat. “That’s quite a price for a woman who might be dead tomorrow.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Only now was I realizing how respectful my clients in Risqeu had been. Gods, even the ones I’d had in the outer city before I’d moved to Oylen proper had been kinder. My whole life I’d believed I was nothing but an object, a thing crafted for another’s use, but I had never been treated like this.
A flash of silver caught my eye as the stranger pulled a tin from his pocket. The strong scent of herbs filled the air as he unscrewed the lid and rubbed the healing salve across one of the wounds on my shoulder. Shame burned in my throat at my sigh of relief when the sickening pulsing lessened, even if the others still burned.
“A cloth and some water,” the male snapped.
Lucas grumbled as he complied, giving the immortal what he demanded. I startled as he wiped it across my cheeks, days of grime and blood smearing across the white fabric.
“There you are,” he cooed. “Sheisquite the beauty.”
“And worth every penny,” Lucas said.
The male pursed his lips, those strange eyes flicking from my face to my breasts and back again. “Two thousand and I’ll take her immediately.”
“Done.”
I froze. Of course I’d understood what was happening, but the realization I had just been sold—again—had acid coating my tongue. I wasn’t sure what would be worse, staying in the hell I knew or stepping into some sort of fresh horror. But the male tugged a bag from the inside of his coat and placed it on the table before he stood, smoothing a hand over his lapels. “Wesley,” he snapped.
Another male I hadn’t realized was in the room came forward, his thick brown hair tied back in a knot. I attemptedto scramble to my feet when his large hands wrapped around my waist and he lifted me into his arms. His tawny skin was warm, however, unlike that of the immortals who surrounded us, and he carried me in his arms rather than over his shoulder.
Regardless, I struggled as I was carried out of the house and into the brisk night air. But the male only held me tighter, a soft rumbling emanated from his chest that sounded suspiciously like he was trying to soothe me. When I froze, looking up into his face covered in brutal scars, he shook his head infinitesimally.
A black coach waited on the curb in front of the house. I’d been right—we’d been nestled within the heart of Chynon. I searched each face I saw on the street as they passed, even though I knew I would recognize no one. Any eyes that fell on me held same apathy that was all too abundant in Oylen after the Covenant’s rule for centuries. A human female dirty and chained was nothing to them.
The vampire slipped into the coach first and the male who held me stepped in after, managing to get me through the door. Once I was set on one of the cushioned seats, the male slipped out again and made his way to the driver’s bench, just visible through the door.
“Tell me your name,” the immortal said in a cold voice.
My throat clicked with a swallow. “A-Adrienne Valois.”
He withdrew a small ledger and a charcoal writing stick from his inner pocket. The carriage set off a moment later with a jerk, and though every part of me wanted to watch the city out the window, I kept my gaze on the predator as he scribbled. This male appeared to be old from the sheen of his skin, though not as old as…
