The Blood Crown (The Blood Folk #2)

14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

G uards escorted Aurelia down the tunnels of the keep, one with close-cropped white hair, the other with braids the color of hoarfrost. The clipped sound of boots echoed toward them, and her escorts tensed as someone approached.

“Captain,” the one with braids called out.

A lean figure appeared in the torchlight, the red crest on her uniform emblazoned under the flames.

The white-haired female that had brought them to this fucking place.

The Captain's carnelian eyes raked over Aurelia’s exposed skin, forcing heat to creep across her cheeks at the derision there. With a jerk of her pointed chin, they were walking through the dimly lit corridor again.

Tunnels branched out to the left and right, curving away into darkness and musty air. The muffled clank of metal snapped her attention to the cavern just ahead of them. In the dark, she could make out rows of iron cells. Mostly empty, but some had heaps huddled at their corners.

A pit formed in her gut as they passed. Pale hands gripped the bars. Quiet sobs of desperation and soft pleas that were nearly inaudible. The scent coming off the dungeons told her every single one of the captives was human.

A loud bang rattled ahead of them.

“Let me out!” A voice rang out from the cell furthest down. A female—a woman. But this one still had fight left in her as she hit the bars again with a small brown hand.

Hazel eyes peered out from the cell, landing on Aurelia. A fleeting look of contempt flickered across the Captain’s features as Aurelia's escorts pushed her forward again.

She peered into every tunnel that branched away from the maze of corridors, trying to remember the turns that the guards had made as they led her from that dark cell levels below to the chambers she now occupied. She needed to find where they were keeping Karro—if he was still alive.

Stumbling into one of the guards’ backs, she blinked as her eyes adjusted to the space that opened up before them. A cavern yawned wide, filled with raucous laughter as thousands of pale faces turned to stare at her.

Seated at a raised table in the front of the cavern was the king. A cold look in his red eyes, as if the centuries he’d seen had whittled away whatever soul he might have once had. And at his right—Ven. His dark hair and his golden skin a scream of color amidst the white and silver of the Court of Flame. Utter contempt was plain on his face, but he was alive.

The Captain stalked forward, kneeling before her master, and as she rose to take her place at his other side, the king threw a glance at Ven, his mouth sharpening into a smile.

He tipped his head toward the white-haired female. “This is Valea.”

Ven didn’t offer a response, only lifting his eyes to mark the female who had brought them to this prison with what, Aurelia suspected, was a death promise.

The king’s smirk grew, contorting the twisted scar that snaked up the column of his throat as his eyes landed back on the female. “You don’t recognize your own sister?”

Surprise flashed across Ven’s face, so fleeting that she wasn’t sure anyone else noticed it. She must have been sired after the war if Ven was unaware of her existence until now.

“Apologies. I don’t try to make a habit of visiting,” Ven replied dryly.

“You once had many siblings,” the king continued. “Alas, most of them met their end during the war and the others were too focused on killing each other and vying for the throne that they didn’t think to outlive me.” He took a healthy swallow of the red liquid in his cup, but Aurelia noted that Ven didn’t move to touch his own. “But she was smarter than her brothers. It’s why she’s here before you today and they’re . . . well.” The king gave a small shrug of his shoulders, as if watching his children fight each other to the death had been some trivial entertainment for him.

Aurelia was pushed toward the front of the room, ignoring the leering smiles of the Nostari as she raised her chin and straightened her spine. She wouldn’t give any of them the satisfaction of witnessing her fear, though she was certain they could smell it on her.

The cloying stench of decay permeated the room, and in the periphery of her vision she noted a dark heap—a discarded pile of bodies. Some fresh . . . some not much more than bones.

Humans—all humans.

And even as she tried not to linger on the details of their faces, it was impossible to ignore the small skeletons littered amongst them . . .

Children.

Her stomach turned as she fought to keep her eyes trained forward, bile rising in her throat. The king’s gaze laid her bare, but she did not flinch as she met the monster’s vermillion eyes.

“I hope you found your accommodations comfortable,” he said benevolently, the tips of his fangs exposed. “You are a guest here and you will be treated as such.” His mouth sharpened into a cruel slash. “Tradition demands that I offer food in a show of my good intentions.”

She glanced toward the food and wine that remained untouched in front of Ven, his jaw tense as if he scented the snare, too.

The crowd of viciously beautiful beings parted, howling laughter erupting around her at some jest she did not understand—until a small figure was pushed in front of her.

The sight of brown hair and light green eyes made Aurelia’s stomach lurch into her throat. The servant girl who had been sent to her rooms was led before the court, her thin arms gripped tightly between the two guards.

Her body was still slender from youth, a girl on the cusp of womanhood.

A fucking child.

Aurelia had been that young once, her only concern in the world whether she would be able to sneak off to see Bastien after dark. What dresses she would wear to the upcoming dances . . .

The flash of metal was so sudden that Aurelia flinched, the scent of blood hitting her with dizzying force.

Red rivulets dripped onto the floor from the vulgar slashes across the girl’s wrists.

She was dead even as she stood on her feet.

Aurelia’s gums ached as she forced down her hunger—painful now with the need to feed. Her fangs seemed to sharpen in her mouth in answer. And for a moment she wondered what it might feel like to sink her teeth into the girl’s smooth flesh. To taste her blood. Her mortality.

She stumbled back, trying to fill her lungs with anything other than the scent of the girl’s blood. It was one thing to deny her hunger when she’d been in her chambers, but now . . .

The glazed-over look on the girl’s face remained the same, the steady drip, drip, drip of her blood puddling beneath her, seemingly oblivious to the pain. Not an ounce of fear in her eyes at her impending death.

Thirst scorched Aurelia's throat, sending her doubling over. Her stomach cramped violently as the hunger she’d ignored for days, weeks , came roaring back to the surface.

The crowded room erupted into snarling laughter as she tried to flee, but the hard chests of the guards were behind her, pushing her forward as her feet scrambled for purchase.

A flash of onyx appeared between her and the girl, still quietly bleeding out onto the black stone floor.

“Enough,” Ven uttered.

Taking a single stride forward, he gripped the girl’s slender neck in his hand. Murmuring words under his breath so softly that Aurelia knew they were for her and no one else.

You will feel no pain, no fear. Go to your gods and leave this place behind.

With one swift motion, he bit into her throat, piercing the vein steadily pulsing there. The dazed look on the girl’s face only dulled as he took pull after pull of her blood, the light slowly dimming from her eyes.

Color drained away from her face, her body slumped to the ground as Ven finally released her.

The king stood from his seat, a satisfaction written on his face as he looked to where Ven stood between his piercing stare and Aurelia, as if it answered an unspoken question. “And here I thought the separatists had made you soft.” His steps echoed as he made his way to the floor.

The girl’s lifeless body was dragged to the pile at the edge of the cavern, leaving twin streaks of scarlet along the stone.

The king came to a halt a breath away from her. And Aurelia flinched—gods damn her—as he lifted a pale hand and stroked icy fingertips down her cheek. “Why do you protect her from her true nature?” he asked.

“Touch her again,” Ven said with quiet menace, “and I’ll kill you where you stand.”

His father chuckled, dropping his hand. “I think you would, too.” He studied Ven now, curiosity plainly written across his features. "You compel two of my men to help her escape—yet you don't attempt to your own." He turned toward the Captain. "A pity, that Valea ruined your plans."

It was only then that Aurelia noted the distinct scent of burned flesh hanging in the air—the same smell that had lingered in her nose, her mouth, after she'd watched the First Brother die. Her eyes fell to a scrap of singed red fabric on the floor before the throne. All that remained of Ven's attempt to free her.

The king sniffed the air between them, the gesture obscene with the gleam in his eye as he turned back toward Ven with a smirk. “All this—and you haven’t claimed her?” Ven's jaw clenched, his gaze hardening as his father scoffed, “The separatists have made you soft.”

“If you care to find out, I’ll happily oblige,” Ven answered with grim invitation, revealing the fangs that were usually hidden.

Solari vermin, someone spat—though no one stepped forward to claim the insult. The king’s pale red eyes broke off from them to scan the room, the look in them enough of a threat that the cavern fell silent once more. Whatever power Ven’s father possessed must have been mighty enough that it brooked no argument from the rest of his court.

The king’s gaze landed on them once more, his smile cold and calculating, sending a fresh wave of shivers down her spine. “I think we’ve all had enough entertainment for one evening,” he murmured, the guards closing in around them.

“Am I your prisoner or your rightful heir?” Ven spat, his face a mask of cold defiance.

After a moment of consideration, his father raised a white hand with an indulgent smile and the guards fell back at the silent command.