Tick-tock.Tick-tock.
The pendulum clock mocks me from the corner of the room. It’s been, what? Ten, maybe twenty minutes since Killian left in a blur of blood red mist. I can faintly hear commotion coming from the lower levels of the castle, but no footsteps resound on this floor.
I’ve been turning and prodding in my head the little bits and pieces of information that I heard. A prisoner escaped. One of the several captives that were brought earlier tonight. That means Killian brought them in. So, his weeks-long mission was to hunt down these people and capture them. Are they even people, or are they other types of creatures? And he wants them alive for interrogation.
Argh, my head is spinning with endless possibilities. Is there a threat that I don’t know about in this kingdom? Does it have anything to do with why they kidnapped me, thinking I was mysister? Is it her? My blood runs cold at that particular train of thought.
No, no. The guards mentioned a male prisoner.
I can’t sit here on my pretty ass, waiting for Killian to return, especially not when he wants to pick up where we left off before the guards barged in.
Curiosity gets the best of me, and I throw on hurriedly a pair of leather pants and a white billowy blouse, before I tie my hair up in a messy knot and grab a pair of boots. I don’t have any weapons, but I’ll venture out only to the stairwell so I can hear better what is happening.
I exit the chamber and stick to the dark walls, inching my way to the stairs at the end of the silent hallway. No sounds are coming from the floor below, so maybe they’ve already captured the escapee?
I should turn back and return to the safety of my room, but something in my gut tells me to press forward. I loathe being kept in the dark.
I slowly descend the stone steps, careful to keep my presence hidden from sight, or view. When I reach the end of the staircase, nothing seems out of the ordinary. I look left, then right, and decide no harm can come from me exploring further, so I step onto the second floor of the castle.
Where is everybody? This all feels pretty underwhelming for a manhunt. But maybe I can snoop around the library, see if I can find there any hints about what is going on. With all these cryptic missions that keep Killian and Blaise busy, there must be a bigger picture that I’m not privy to.
I tiptoe towards the middle of the corridor, where the gilded entry to the library stands.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” An icy voice floats from nearby, and a menacing vampire emerges from the shadows. His muted, dark blonde hair flows down his back,unruly and unkempt, and his clothes look dirty with mud and blood. But what shocks me to the core are his vivid scarlet eyes. It’s not just the irises that are red, like with a recently fed vampire. No, the vermilion shade covers his eyeballs completely, bleeding into the skin under his eyes.
I take a step back, ready to run for my life, but the creature pounces on me with blinding speed, tackling me to the ground. He leans over, hissing menacingly, and inhales deeply, close to my face.
Did this motherfucker just sniff me like a dog?
“You reek of the King. Mistress will be so pleased if I bring back a Fae whore pertaining to her immortal foe.” He stands mind-numbingly fast, dragging me upwards with him, my arms twisted at my back at an unnatural angle.
Nausea churns in my stomach, and I try to escape his unyielding grip, but it’s futile. White-hot pain explodes in my shoulders, and I know I’m done for. I should have listened to Killian and stayed in my damned room.
My chest constricts painfully as my face and hands go horribly numb. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m going to die, aren’t I? Killed by a batshit-crazed vampire. Turns out I was right to be wary of them all along.
“You’re coming with me to Burneside Keep,” he sneers in my ear, saliva dripping from his mouth and into my hair. I’m too terrified to even be grossed out. My legs have turned to fucking jelly, and if it weren’t for this creature’s grip on me, I wouldn’t be able to stand, even if my life depended on it. I’m struggling to take big gulps of air, but the more I inhale, the more I feel I’m suffocating.
This is it.
This is my end.
The air charges around us in turbulent swirls, before a blast of crimson attacks the creature, throwing him off me to the ground.Killian materializes on top of him, the blade in his hand going straight into the vampire’s throat. I’m splattered with blood as I fall on my ass, a curling scream escaping my lips as Killian beheads the brute in one swift, clean motion. His head rolls a few feet away, his eyes turning from the scarlet color to dull brown.
Adrenaline courses through my limbs as I push myself towards the wall, heaving erratically. I can’t take my eyes off the gory scene in front of me. I try to breathe through my nose, but the pungent smell of blood fills my nostrils, making me retch uncontrollably.
Killian’s in front of me in the blink of an eye, touching my face, my neck, searching for any injuries.
“You’re safe, Aimee. It’s over,” he whispers frantically. My nerves seem to calm down slightly under his gentle touch, and hurried footsteps resound on the stone corridor. Half a dozen guards appear, and Killian commands them to take care of the cadaver before hauling me up into his arms and rushing us to my bedroom.
He pries the door open with his foot and leads us directly to the en-suite bathroom, where he marches into the walk-in shower and opens the water faucet, drenching both of our clothed bodies in hot water.
“Little umbra, say something. Anything.” I look into his coal-black eyes, worry and something else I can’t quite put my finger on, shining through.
He saved me. He brutally murdered that monster in front of me, but all I can think about is the way he is holding me right now, like I am precious, as if I am somebody of importance to him. It might be the horrific rush streaming down my body, or the monumental relief that I am still alive, but I do the one thing I’ve constantly said I wouldn’t do.
I kiss him.
My lips press to his in a soft caress, and he stiffens for a second, before he takes over, the thankful peck turning into a fervent tangle of lips. His tongue slips past my parted mouth, and goosebumps erupt on my flesh as he explores the insides of it ardently.
