Chapter 10 Bronwen
Bronwen
I lied. I loved this dinner.
The smell of the decadent food alone was enough to make my mouth water—roasted meats glazed in dark, rich sauces, platters of steaming vegetables dressed in butter and herbs, soft breads still warm from the ovens.
But it was the desserts that made me dizzy with happiness: sugared tarts filled with spiced apples and golden honey, delicate pastries dusted with powdered sugar, thick slices of velvet cake layered with cream.
I thought nothing could compare to grape jelly. I was wrong.
My plate was already piled shamefully high, and I had no intention of stopping.
And I couldn’t forget my dress. It was deep purple, silk with a plunging neckline and gold stitching that caught the candlelight every time I moved. It cinched at the waist, dramatic and sharp, and flared at the hips with just enough volume to make a statement. I looked powerful in it. Dangerous.
Lavina kept glancing at me from across the table, her smile too sharp. She didn’t hide her displeasure well, which only made the food taste sweeter.
Hearing the gossip, even though I had no idea who they were talking about, was oddly comforting.
The voices overlapped in quick, vicious bursts—scandal, innuendo, half-truths passed between them.
Their cruelty was effortless, elegant even.
In a twisted way, it felt like a family.
Not the kind you trusted, but the kind that made you feel alive, seen, part of something dangerous and dazzling.
I was the stranger at their table, but they didn’t ignore me.
They looked. They whispered. And I smiled.
My eyes drifted to Corwin’s empty seat. None of the siblings mentioned him. There were no questions. No concern. If they noticed his absence, they hid it well. Their indifference was either calculated or careless. I didn’t know which was worse.
“Did you see the man Lavina took to her chambers last night?” Simon asked with a wicked grin, swirling the wine in his glass. “I tried to get her to share, but you know how she is, especially when she likes the way someone screams.”
Lavina leaned back in her chair, her jeweled fingers resting delicately on her goblet. “He was divine. Just a taste and I was half drunk. But I’m not ready to toss him aside yet. Maybe if you’re on your best behavior, I’ll let you watch.”
“You marked him?” I asked. I had heard the stories. I had experienced it myself, but I had never seen it happen to someone else.
Benedict, ever the quiet one, kept his gaze on the surface of his drink. “It’s one of her favorite pastimes,” he murmured.
Lavina’s eyes glittered. She tilted her head and let out a peal of laughter that echoed down the long dining hall. “Oh, it makes their blood sing. So much more flavor when they know they’re owned.” Her eyes slid to August with mock affection. “Augustus knows what I mean—don’t you, brother?”
August didn’t respond.
“I’m just shocked he’s kept you this long,” she said, directing it at me with a syrupy smile. “The longest I ever lasted was a few weeks. The hunger always wins. You either feed or you fracture.”
I leaned forward just enough for her to see the glint in my eyes. “I am not owned.”
“Oh but aren’t you? He dresses you up, pulls you around to dinner and the parties, and then after you spread those legs for him and give him the one thing he des-”
“Lavina,” August warned.
I gritted my teeth as August placed his hand on my thigh. I could be mature. I could do what was necessary.
“You may have some strange hold over Augustus, but it won’t matter soon enough. All you’ll be needed for is to bear Carrow some sons.”
No, I couldn’t.
“And what are you needed for?”
She looked at me, a mix of shock and intrigue etched on her face. I lasted a day being quiet. That in itself was a victory.
“I mean I’m sure you realize that you were a mistake. A woman. What did Carrow want with a daughter?” I twirled the fork between my fingers. August tensed beside me, but I could see the smile he was fighting back.
“At least your other brothers know they are the back up plans for Carrow’s attempt to be truly immortal, but you?” I took a sip of wine, dragging this out for as long as I could. Everyone stared at me and I relished in it. “All you seem to be here for is to be the castle bitch.”
Simon spit his drink out.
I started to turn toward August, lips twitching from Simon’s reaction, when I caught the faint glimmer of something metallic in the candlelight. My breath hitched a second before the pain struck.
August moved, a blur of motion—but not fast enough.
The knife sank into my stomach with sickening precision.
The world tilted.
I gasped, pushing myself from the table. Pain bloomed through my middle like fire, and I didn’t know whether to pull the knife free or leave it. My hand hovered uselessly near the hilt.
“Forgive me,” Lavina said. “It just slipped.”
August was already moving—shoving the table aside, reaching me in an instant. His body blocked mine, his arm stretched protectively as he faced her. “You—”
He didn’t finish. He launched at her, and she didn’t even have time to brace herself.
She hit the stone wall with a dull thud, a low grunt escaping her lips as she slid halfway down. But she laughed. She laughed as if this were a joke. “So protective,” she purred. “It’s almost romantic.”
“Touch her again,” August growled, “and I’ll make sure you never touch anything again.”
Lavina’s gaze swept lazily to the blood now soaking the front of my dress. “You don’t have to worry,” she said with a cruel smile. “I think I nicked something important. You always did have a weakness for fragile things.”
I whimpered. I hadn’t meant to, but the pain was too much.
August snapped, and this time even Lavina flinched. He seized her by the throat and slammed her into the stone with enough force to crack it.
“You think this is a game?” He roared through the dining hall. “You think I won’t rip your throat out?” His fangs bared, his eyes glowed like coals. “Come near her again and you’ll crawl away—if you’re lucky.”
Lavina tried to step away, but August grabbed her again, this time by the back of the neck.
“Oh no. You break it,” he hissed as he hurled her toward me. “You fix it.”
I didn’t wait. I gripped her wrist, letting the magic flow. She screamed.
The knife slid free of my body with a squelch, and the pain drained with it. The hole in my stomach closed before my eyes, leaving only blood and torn silk.
“I really liked this dress,” I muttered. I held her longer than necessary. Just enough to make her squirm.
But even with her withering away under my touch and every vampire in this room wide-eyed, it wasn’t enough. This fucking bitch thought she could hurt me. I placed the knife in front of her face so she could watch as it turned into a wooden stake.
“Augustus!” one of the brothers shouted.
He turned, fangs gleaming. “Move and I’ll rip your heart out.”
I shoved the stake right next to Lavina’s heart.
“You shouldn’t worry about his threats. My favorite thing to do is kill vampires.” I brushed her hair aside, fisting it tightly in my hand. “And now you’ve made it personal.”
I released her, watching her crumple. She was pale and trembling as she weakly fumbled with the stake.
“Maybe he was protecting me after all,” Simon whispered.
August glanced at him.
And I smiled.
Simon cleared his throat, setting his goblet down with exaggerated care. “Well, that escalated.”
No one laughed.
Benedict stared at Lavina. “She’s a witch,” he said quietly. Not with disgust. Not with dread… but curiosity?
“This doesn’t leave this room,” August commanded. “If I hear a whisper of this—if any of you breathe a word—I will kill every last one of you. Carrow needs you. I don’t.”
Simon gave him a slow, tense salute before tossing back his wine. Lavina was only just starting to rise, her limbs sluggish, drained. And Benedict—he hadn’t taken his eyes off me once as if he was reassessing everything he thought he knew about me.
August grabbed my arm and pulled me from the hall.
Every step I took echoed with the pulse of stolen power surging through my veins.
I felt weightless, unshakable. Moments ago, I’d been dying.
Now, I moved like a storm in human skin.
One sibling dead. Another trembling from my threat.
And now they all knew: I was no fragile girl.
August turned to me, a flicker of alarm flashing in his eyes as he frantically glanced past my shoulder, like he could hear something I couldn’t. “We need to get you changed. Get the blood off of you.”
I clutched the ruined fabric and felt as it stitched itself back together, and the blood disappeared. “There. All better.”
August didn’t respond at first. His eyes stayed fixed on the spot where the blood had just been, his chest rising and falling faster than it should’ve. For a moment, he looked like he was somewhere else entirely—like something inside him was unraveling.
He blinked slowly, as if he was trying to pull himself back into his body. Something was fraying in him. A thread pulled too tight. If I touched it, I didn’t know if he’d snap or bleed.
Then, he scowled, which only infuriated me. He was trying to hide every true emotion from me.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I crossed my arms. “Did I ruin your chance to get your hands all over me again?”
His eyes raked over me. My breath hitched, and I felt the heat crawl up my throat, blooming over my chest like a fever. I swore I could still feel the imprint of his hands on me from earlier, the ghost of his grip, the heat of his palm.
I shivered, but not from the cold.
“I’ve only done what’s necessary.”
“Right.” I knew he was lying. I saw the pure hunger every time he touched me, putting his scent all over me. He had to force himself to hold back. But how was that possible? If what Lavina said was true, how was I still alive?
“How did you stop yourself? Every time you have bitten me—how did you not drain me dry?”
His eyes darkened. “What?”
“Lavina said the mark drives you mad with need. So why haven’t I done that to you?”
His stare locked on mine, and something unspoken roared beneath the surface. “You’ve done far worse to me, Winnie.”
My breath caught in my throat. “But how do you control it?”
His jaw clenched, and his hand rose with hesitation. He brushed his fingers across the raised scars on my neck like he was punishing himself for putting them there.
“Because if I ever gave in and killed you,” he said quietly, “I’d follow right after. I wouldn’t survive it.”
The words sliced through the space between us like a blade, far too vulnerable for either of us to handle.
For a moment, I saw him. Truly saw him. Not the king. Not the vampire. Just the man who had fallen so completely into whatever this was with me, he didn’t know how to climb out.
But then his shutters came down.
“We won’t cross that line again,” he said, voice rough, retreating behind the mask. “You’re only here to stop him from coming back.”
The words landed like a slap across my cheek, burning with quiet cruelty. They didn’t just draw a line between us… they carved a chasm between us.
He’d been pulling away, slowly, subtly. I saw it. I felt it. But part of me had hoped he wouldn’t say the words out loud.
Now he had.
And something cracked deep inside me. Not like the sting of a wound, but like the soft, sickening break of something once whole finally giving way.
It hurt more than the knife ever could.
* * *
The great room was alive again.
Music swelled beneath the chandeliers, every note laced with menace. The vampires twirled across the marble floor like predators in silk, laughing too loudly, moving too smoothly. Everything shimmered with opulence and violence.
We sat on the thrones overlooking it all. I adjusted my posture, spine straight, chin high, pretending the conversation we’d just had hadn’t gutted me.
August sat beside me, a statue of tension. His gaze swept the room with precision, but his hand gripped the throne’s arm like it might splinter beneath his fingers.
“I am not letting you out of my sight now,” he said under his breath.
“That happened with you sitting right next to me, August.”
His jaw flexed. No comeback.
“I’ve learned my lesson. I will not be unarmed here.”
He turned, slowly, his eyes scanning my face. “How much did you pull from Lavina?”
I tilted my head, letting the candlelight catch the wicked glint in my eyes. I said nothing. Instead, every candle in the room flickered—flames dancing in unison.
His voice dipped into something darker. “Winnie. It is for your best interest that no one else finds out.”
“They won’t.” My lips curved. “Unless I am provoked.”
His eyes lingered on me for a long moment.
I turned back to the dancers, catching a glimpse of Lavina and Simon tucked in the corner, their eyes on me. Let them look. Let them wonder what I was capable of.
Let them be afraid.