Shattered Vows (Midnight Manor Book 2)

Chapter 4

Four

We land somewhere in the south. I recognize the early June heat and the first hints of humidity from when I lived in Georgia. The road signs are in English as Kol speeds his sports car down the road, so we’re not in Mexico. The ever-present summer humidity is something I didn’t miss when we moved to the Pacific Northwest.

I don’t bother asking where we are or where we’re going. One, he’ll never tell me. And two, Kol will think I care, and I’m doing my best to make him think I don’t care. Even though the questions are pressed against the back of my lips and dying to be released.

Eventually, he turns off the highway onto a country road, then through a cute small town with shops and cafés. He takes a winding road up a hill, slowing his speed in front of two iron gates.

I swallow hard. It’s not like I had a vision of where we were headed, but these gates make me fear that wherever we are, it’s going to be harder to escape than just sneaking out the fire escape of a building.

Kol presses a code into the pad key on his side, and the gates creak open.

Damn it. I should’ve paid attention to the code he used.

He eases the car through the gates, and we continue on a winding road lined with tall trees that must have been here for decades if not centuries.

“Welcome to Midnight Manor,” Kol says.

The name sounds ominous. As the trees clear, a massive, sprawling mansion comes into view, and Midnight Manor seems aptly named. There is nothing bright and sunshiny about this place. It’s dark and intimidating. And huge—so huge.

I don’t know anything about architecture, but I’d bet my safety that this place is a Gothic manor. Even the dark gray stone sucks up the sunlight as though no light is welcome here. At each end of the house is a spire that rises up, up, up.

Kol parks in the circular drive and climbs out, rounding the front of his car to my side. My nerves hit me full force now that we’ve arrived where he intends to keep me hidden, and my bravado falters. Questions race through my mind. What are we doing here? Is this his home? Why did he bring me here? I work to calm my breathing as he wrenches the car door open and yanks me out with his hand on my upper arm. In seconds, he’s leading me toward the massive front door, never taking his hand off me.

I glance up to find stone gargoyles perched along the top of the manor. I wish this was some movie where I could call to them for help, and they would fly me out of here so I don’t have to endure what Kol has planned for me. My vision quickly shifts with so much of the mansion to see. The stained-glass window over the towering door draws me in, and I admire the beauty of the piece mixed into the dark menacing monstrosity. If only I could sit in front of it, painting the intricate work of art. But Kol pushes open the door, leading me inside, and that thought withers and dies.

The place seems even more massive now that we’re inside. My eyes are unable to focus on one thing, continuously drawn to ornate pieces of furniture. It resembles what I imagine European palaces that are hundreds of years old look like. Kol doesn’t say anything as he drags me through room after room. How can he so easily dismiss this radiance?

We don’t come upon anyone, and even if we did, I’m unsure I’d ask them for help anyway. From how well he’s navigating the sheer size of the manor, this must be where Kol lives. We’re moving so fast that if I was able to escape, I’m not sure I’d find my way out.

Every room is dimly lit as though the early evening sun isn’t shining brightly outside. The hallways are wide, and the wall sconces flicker with minimal light that does nothing to hide the shadows littering the walls, the ceiling, and the stone floor.

Eventually we arrive at a long hallway with a high, pointed-arch ceiling, and on the left are large archways with stained glass in them, just as alluring as the window that adorned the front door. Most of the glass art depicts landscapes or an array of colorful shapes. The center arch is different. It’s a massive lion, facing forward with an intense stare. I divert my eyes, tensing as if its eyes are on me. Kol doesn’t stop, and it feels as if the lion is watching, a predator lying in the fields until it’s time to pounce.

“This is my wing,” Kol says, drawing my attention away from the captivating stained glass. “There’s no point in screaming for help. No one will hear you. And if by chance you do see a member of the staff, know that they are loyal to the Voss family.”

I grit my teeth, feeling stifled and suffocated. I’m never escaping Kol.

“What do you plan to do to me?” I ask when we reach the end of the lengthy hallway and he stops us in front of a closed door.

“Whatever I want.” His words are sinister.

A shiver runs up my spine, but I’m unsure if it’s because of the dark promise in his voice or from fear. Hopefully the latter, otherwise there is something very, very wrong with the way my body reacts to him.

Kol pushes a hand into his pocket and produces an old skeleton key, which he puts into the keyhole of the door. The audible click of the lock echoes down the hallway as he twists the key, unlocking the door. The sound seems to signify death… my death.

He swings the door open and pushes me inside. “Walk.”

A set of stairs spirals up, and panic makes my heartbeat race as I consider where it leads.

“Go.” Kol’s voice is at my back.

I lift the skirt of my wedding gown at the front, taking the first step with his breath at my neck. My dress slips out of my grasp, and I stumble over the hem a few times, but Kol doesn’t offer any assistance. Why would he? He loathes me and is hell-bent on paying me back for embarrassing him at the altar years ago. The yearning for my mom and Alistair hits me hard, and I stifle a sob.

The muscles in my thighs burn by the time I reach the top. I’m greeted by another thick wooden door with ornate carvings on it. Without a word, Kol brushes past me and inserts the same key into the lock before pushing the door open. We’re at the top of one of the spires I spied from outside.

He waves me forward, and I swallow hard while my chest grows even tighter, as though someone keeps tightening and tightening a band around it.

Slowly, I step inside and look around. It’s a circular room with a bed on one wall between two of the arched windows and the usual bedroom dresser and furnishings scattered throughout. A large ornate carpet rests under the bed, and a small sofa and two chairs sit in front of a large, open fireplace. On the wall to the right of the bed is a set of doors that appears to lead out to a balcony.

Kol motions to a door on the left that is on the only wall built into the room. “Bathroom.”

He says it as though there are no other bathrooms in this monstrous house for me to use. My stomach drops at the realization that this is where he plans to keep me. I’ve traded one prison for another, only this one will be worse than living with an overprotective mother because I have a feeling I’m to stay here by myself.

I whip around to face him. “You’re going to keep me up here like a prisoner?” My throat closes.

“Only until I decide what to do with you.”

I try to suck oxygen into my lungs, but my mouth dries, and I gasp from the squeezing of my chest. My heart races as though it’s building up into a crescendo and soon will stop completely. I clutch at the fabric at the front of my dress, as if that will signal to my body and my racing thoughts to let me get air into my lungs.

I try again, but it’s just another wheeze.

My eyes water as Kol glares. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

I crumple to my knees, hitting the hardwood, bent over, hands splayed on the floor, my back arching as my chest heaves, feeling strangled from the air. I do my best to calm my racing heart, my fear and anxiety rising about being trapped like one of those fairytale princesses until he decides to let me go or I free myself. Kol crouches beside me. For a moment, I take his reaction for kindness.

“Is this some kind of ploy to get me to let down my guard? If so, it’s a waste of time.”

I ignore his comment, trying to get my breathing under control as the air wheezes in and out of my lungs, but it’s not working. More panic flares inside me, and my lungs constrict further. My eyesight blurs, and I clutch at my throat with one hand.

I’m going to die. In a dress I planned to wed another man in with the man I originally wanted to marry right by my side.

Kol’s large hand falls to my back. “Breathe. Just calm down and breathe.”

Heat from his paw-like hand seeps through my dress, and my body starts to calm. For the first time in minutes, a small amount of air fills my lungs, and my mind clears from the sheer panic. I concentrate on the feel of his hand rubbing up and down my back and use it as a distraction to even my breathing and allow my heart rate to slow.

After a minute or two, I sit back on my heels, my breathing near normal. I scrub at the tears and black marks on my hands tell me mascara has streaked down my face.

Kol shifts to rest in front of me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the expression on his face was of concern. “Does that happen often?”

He doesn’t bother to ask what exactly happened. He’s clearly figured out I had a panic attack.

“Sometimes.” I push up off the floor to stand.

His hand wraps around my arm, and I rip it out of his hold. He doesn’t need to know that I never had a panic attack until after our supposed wedding day. I straighten and meet his scowl.

“I’ll go get you something to change into.” He turns and walks toward the door, closing it behind him.

Just as I think he’s being nice, the click of the lock falling into place reminds me that I’m not here because he was desperate to have me.

Once alone, I spring into action. There has to be a way to get out of here besides that door. First, I check the bathroom—which is beautiful with a large tub and separate walk-in shower—but sadly, no exit. I check the rest of the room for any breaks in the stone on the walls or the floor that might signify a secret passage.

This place is clearly old, and aren’t secret bookshelves that take you to a hidden hallway a thing in old mansions like this one?

My shoulders sink, not finding any way to secretly escape. Then my eyes land on the set of double doors. I hurry over and push them open.

I was right about a balcony. It wraps around the entire spire. I step up to the edge and stand on the bottom of the thick stone railing to look for a way down, but I’m stunned by the gorgeous view of the expansive surroundings that must belong to the manor. Green grass covers the rolling landscape, and the edge of what appears to be a large pond sits way off in the distance.

I walk to both ends of the balcony, but there are no stairs or anything else that might allow me to free myself, and we’re way too high for me to jump to safety. I stomp my heel like a frustrated child, but the impact with the stone reverberates up my leg, and I cringe from the pain sprawling from my foot to my hip. Never do that again.

I make my way back into the room, and Kol stands in the middle of the room with a crooked smirk. As if it’s humorous to him that I’m trying to find a way out, away from him.

“You’re wasting your time.” He tosses a folded set of clothes onto the bed. “I brought you some of Anabelle’s clothes. You look like you’re probably about the same size, so they should fit. Get out of that fucking dress. It’s ugly as shit.”

He says it as if he doesn’t think I picked this dress. But how does he know that my mother refused to allow me to go around to all the wedding shops, trying on gowns, and instead ordered me one off the internet?

“I’ll get you clothes tomorrow.” He rubs his palm over his shaved head.

Who is this Anabelle? I hate the way my stomach turns with jealousy at the thought because I have bigger things to worry about. Is she his girlfriend or, God forbid, his wife? Is that why I’m being sequestered up here? To hide me like some secret mistress?

“Why do I need my own set of clothes? How long do you plan to keep me here?” I bite my bottom lip.

He scoffs, his face void of emotion except for maybe annoyance. “For as long as I like.” Then he turns and heads toward the door. “I’ll bring you some food in a bit.”

He walks out the door, the lock clicking behind him. Leaving me alone in this godforsaken tower where I’ll be kept from the world until he sees fit to either release me or kill me. My throat closes, my nose tickles, and tears spring up again. The world I knew might have been a small one, but it was bigger than one measly room.