Chapter 9 Make It Right
MAKE IT RIGHT
LUELLA
Luella was tugged through the darkened halls of the castle.
Her arms were bound behind her, coarse rope cutting into her wrists. Her bare feet stumbled over the floor, slick with hot, fresh blood. She winced.
The male before her was cloaked in shadows. Large. He led her forward with an iron-like grip—past destruction, past violence, past… suffering.
Weeping filled the castle, mingling with the sounds of war and death.
Screams.
Loud, wailing screams.
She didn’t want to be here. Please, make it stop—make it stop.
Her ears rang, feet slipping over the slick blood pooling on the floor.
Wait—
Luella shook her head, feeling the male’s hand tighten around her upper arm, bruising, as he yanked her across the hall.
She knew these gilded floors. These halls. Paintings that were splattered with blood along the edges, stone statues set into crevices, with depictions of the sun hanging from eaves and dripping from the woven threads of the golden tapestries.
Screams cut through her musings.
"Help me! Please."
Luella shook, her heart threatening to tumble out of her throat.
No. She had been here before, lived this before.
Deep, masculine laughter echoed off the walls, choked cries, and pleas for help joining the war-like cheers of victory.
Through the shadows, Luella spied a female splayed on the ground—her gown was torn, eyes half-lidded and unseeing; bloody handprints littered the flesh of her thighs, traveling up past the blood-splattered, frayed hem of her skirts.
Nausea churned in her belly—vicious and unrelenting. She was going to be sick. The crest of Serpentis flashed in her peripheral vision, inlaid in the armor of the kingdom’s army. Hungry hands, shadowed eyes. Heavy thuds as limbs fell to the ground. Slick slicing noises, wet and gory.
Please—
Luella jolted from her dreams, chest heaving as her arms flailed, slapping against a hard chest.
"Lu, Lu, please, what’s wrong?" Hands gripped her upper arms. Her back burned as she twisted, but she was too fearful to care. She wanted him off. "It’s me. It’s Az. Please. Stop, angel."
The soft, reassuring words fell on her unhearing, broken ears.
She struggled against him. "No, get off of me!"
"Shh, angel. Please." The male didn’t let her go; he held her firmly, strong arms wrapping around her body with such care it made the thundering roar in her ears abate and the beating of her heart slow, skipping as it returned to normal with every ragged exhale that fell from her parted lips.
Her back ached, raw and ravaged. As the terror left her breathless, it was all she could focus on, and a small whimper escaped her.
"You’re okay. Here—lie against me like this."
Az shifted her, holding her shaking limbs against his muscled chest. Her cheek brushed against bare flesh, smelling of deep, thick chocolate and burning sugar.
"Az?" Her voice broke.
"I’m here, angel. What happened?"
She peeked up at her demon, feeling her hair stick to her sweat-slick temples. Her cheeks were hot. It all came rushing back to her—the den, the fever, her wings. She could no longer ignore the aches in her body.
Az’s brows were drawn low over his amber eyes as he peered down at her.
She realized he was waiting for her response—but she… didn’t know.
"I’m not sure." Luella licked her lips. "I was asleep?"
The nightmarish images did not release her from their grip.
Bloodied thighs. Screams. Battered, bruised females and warrior males.
Soldiers who took carelessly. And the cloaked male that led her forward through it all—carrying her onward, just as he had done in the Temples, seeing her through her first pleasure.
A dream.
Luella touched a hand to the amulet tangled around her neck, feeling the heat of the soft blue-grey stone in her palm.
It had been a dream. A nightmare. And because of the stone, she was forced to remember it all with aching clarity.
Az soothed her hair away from her face. The firelight in the hearth was dim.
"How long was I asleep?" she rasped, hand still gripping the amulet.
"A few hours," Az answered her. "The others are away, preparing—" He cut off, tone shifting.
"Do you need water, Lu? We have food, too.
Vale caught some fish." Mirth laced the demon’s tone, and Luella found her own weary lips tug into a faint smile.
The thought of the King catching fish was amusing.
"Water… please?"
Az shifted her carefully, as he reached for something on the floor by the furs.
A small cup made of stone, filled with water.
He raised it to her lips, palm hot against her cheek as he brought the cup to her mouth.
He didn’t urge her to drink; he merely held it there, waiting for her to take the first sip.
Her heart clenched as she moved her head forward and sipped at the water—it was warm from the fire and tasted pure and light.
When she was done, he placed the cup back down and reached for a fillet of charred fish, blackened scales still stuck to the ends as the meat fell from it. Her nose wrinkled, and her already queasy stomach churned.
"I don’t think I can eat right now," she said.
"Tharen told me to get you to eat a little if you woke up. I know you don’t eat meat, but fish is all we have. You will not even be able to stomach a bite?" he prodded.
She shook her head, bile burning the back of her throat at the salty, burned smell of the fish.
Ven certainly didn’t have the same reservations as Luella. The tiny kitten stretched, paws padding across the furs as her nose twitched, scenting the fish.
Az met Luella’s eyes. "Don’t tell Vale," he whispered, then pulled off a small piece of the fish, holding it out to Ven, who licked it from the demon’s fingers.
He was so good. So tender-hearted.
He deserved more than her—he deserved more than a broken, stuttering, scared heirus.
Luella sniffled. The haunting, blood-soaked images of her dream wouldn’t leave her because of Tharen’s amulet. She swore she could taste the metallic tang of blood on her tongue.
"What did you dream?" Az’s voice rumbled through her.
She closed her eyes, letting her head fall against his chest as he held her.
"It wasn’t another vision, but a nightmare.
I dreamt of the night I was… taken. When Tharen came for me.
" Emotion made her throat tighten. How could Vale proclaim himself as a just King when his soldiers had taken like that?
How could he condone such vile, wicked things?
Her earlier breakdown haunted her thoughts—her revelation that maybe she was as evil as Vale, as Caliban…
Az notched his chin on her head, wrapping around her as tightly as he dared because of her wings. "You’re breaking my heart."
"My heart is already broken, Az. Don’t let yours break, too."
He held her like that, in the quiet, until the thoughts ebbed away from her mind—not gone. They would come back, she knew. In her Vincire’s arms, just the two of them, she could pretend that everything was okay.
She must have dozed off because her eyelids fluttered open to the murmur of voices.
"You’re awake."
Luella blinked to clear her sleepy eyes, finding Bastian sitting by her side.
Az’s arms were still wrapped around her tightly, chest rising and falling steadily against her cheek—he had fallen asleep.
Carefully, she craned her head, finding the demon’s neck twisted against the stone wall. That couldn’t be comfortable.
As she lifted her arm to rub at her eyes, she felt something against her wrist. She looked down, finding the dainty chain of the charm bracelet she had stolen clasped around it. "Who put this there?"
The red in Bastian’s eyes had dulled only slightly. "It’s a secret, but if you’re good and eat, I may be persuaded to tell you, pet."
She grimaced, and the vampire let out a soft laugh as he whispered, "I guess you won’t ever know."
Vale and Tharen were sitting by the hearth, speaking lowly.
The firelight flickered over their profiles, and she couldn’t stop how interest kindled within her at the sight of them.
Her two most volatile Vincire. Her skin tingled with the memory of Tharen’s fingers digging into the flesh of her arm as he had pulled her through the dark halls in her dream.
She grazed her finger over the amulet, feeling the charms on the bracelet tickle her wrist as she moved.
She wore a piece of Tharen and Vale both, now.
Gilded and glittering. The bracelet was different than the Binding mark—that had been something forced upon her in ink and blood.
But the bracelet… she found she did not want to remove it. Liked it, even.
After resting, her back felt better. No longer a fierce, consuming type of pain—she was healing.
"Would you like some water, at least, pet?" Bastian asked lowly.
"Only a little…" she replied, taking the small cup Bastian offered her.
His fingers wrapped around hers as she took it, holding it for her and urging her to bring it up to her lips.
He was more demanding than Az had been as he pressed it to her mouth and tilted it, forcing her to swallow or choke.
He lowered their hands, fingers cool against hers.
She licked her lips, tasting the pureness of the water lingering there; Bastian tracked the flick of her tongue. "Where did it come from?"
"We collected rainwater. There’s plenty to be found." His words made Luella cringe—that was her fault. "Do you remember what happened before you fell asleep?" His fingers stroked over the back of her hand, eyes flashing bloody red.
"Yes, I do. I agreed to… join you." She was relieved when she did not stammer.
His cool breath ghosted over her flushed cheeks, and she opened her eyes, finding Bastian leaning into her, watching her. "Have you changed your mind?"
Had she?