13. CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
P erched atop a granite outcrop, Rowan stole a quick glance at the sun as it slowly rose on the horizon before turning her gaze back to the imposing structure of the Reaper’s castle. The edifice loomed over the land, its spires clawing at the sky with a menacing reach. Stone gargoyles upon the walls sneered down at the world below with frozen disdain.
Rowan was awestruck by the grandeur of the castle in front of her. It was hard not to compare it to her own life, one of struggle and poverty. The stark contrast between those who had everything and those who had nothing ignited something inside her. It was hard to comprehend the injustice of it all—how one person could possess so much while the majority suffered. The sheer size and excess spoke of ego and greed.
She couldn’t resist making a snide remark. “Looks like the Reaper’s compensating for something with the size of those turrets.”
Beside her, Casimir let out a low chuckle. “You have a knack for bringing joy to even the direst of situations. Here we are, staking out what seems like an impregnable fortress teeming with vampires, yet somehow you manage to make it fun.”
The morning light reflected off the silver flecks in his icy blue irises, temporarily rendering Rowan speechless. Casimir’s signature half-smile grew wider until a dimple formed on his left cheek. It added warmth to his features, softening their sharp edges with an endearing charm so unlike the lethal grace that normally defined him.
“Now there’s something you don’t see every day,” she teased. “A vampire with a dimple. Adorable. ”
He suppressed a laugh. “I’m glad my physical attributes amuse you.”
They lay in wait, cloaked by the nearby trees, only the subtle sound of their whispers disturbing the stillness. Hours ticked by, marked only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant caw of a raven. Vampire guards patrolled the grounds, and Rowan noted as the day wore on that the guards’ steps became more lethargic.
“Midday,” Casimir said, breaking the silence. “The sun weakens them, makes them sluggish. We strike then.”
“Why doesn’t it bother you?” she asked. “We’ve been out together in broad daylight, and I’ve never seen you falter.”
His lips twitched. “One of the advantages of being as old as dirt.”
“Good to know I’m teamed up with the vampire equivalent of a relic.” Rowan bumped her shoulder lightly against his arm to let him know she was teasing.
“Careful.” His voice dropped half an octave, thick with the promise of danger—or maybe something else entirely. “This ‘relic’ might surprise you.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
Rowan’s breath hitched as his dark eyes flicked to hers.
He gave her a look she couldn't quite decipher. “Perhaps both.”
They resumed their vigil, exchanging glances as the guards’ patterns became predictable in their consistency. It was as if the Reaper’s arrogance had seeped into his minions, leaving them complacent.
“It’s time.” Casimir turned to face her, a tightness forming around his eyes and jaw. “Rowan, I need you to stay here and wait for me or go back to the inn. You should be somewhere safe.”
She scoffed. “And what? Miss out on all the excitement? Not a chance.”
“It’s too dangerous, and your magic is untested,” he insisted.
“My entire life’s been dangerous,” she said sharply. “Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass, Casimir. You’ll have to physically restrain me if you want to stop me, because I’m going with or without you.” She lifted her chin defiantly, daring him to challenge her further.
Casimir held up his hands in defeat. “All right. All right. You win.”
They turned their attention back to the task at hand. The weight of Rowan’s history hung over her, demanding answers. She had an unshakable feeling that whatever was concealed within those cold stone walls held the key to unlocking her past .
“Ready?” Casimir’s voice came out as a whisper. “There’s no turning back once we enter.”
Her heart hammered against her ribs, but her resolve remained ironclad. “I’m ready.”
Together, they descended from their vantage point, sneaking toward the sewer entrance east of the castle. It was a dismal passage, the air thick with the putrid stench of decay. Murky water pooled around their boots as they navigated the narrow space, rats skittering away from the intrusion, their beady eyes reflecting hunger and wariness.
“Lovely.” Rowan gathered up the hem of her dress and wrinkled her nose as she sidestepped something unidentifiable floating in the water.
“Just imagine how much more delightful it is for me with my enhanced senses,” Casimir said dryly, a pained look contorting his handsome face.
The sound of water dripping from the ceiling echoed around the stone walls, creating a chilling backdrop that seemed fitting for a tomb. Rowan’s pulse thrummed like a drumroll leading them toward an uncertain fate.
“Stay close,” Casimir warned. “We might not be alone down here.”
“Thanks, I really needed that horrifying thought in my head.” Her tone was light, but her grip tightened on the dagger hidden in her sleeve.
The surrounding darkness seemed to press in closer, enveloping them in its suffocating embrace, erasing any trace of the outside world. The silence was deafening, broken only by Rowan’s shallow breathing and the faint sound of their footsteps. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched from every shadowy corner.
“Look,” she said as they approached what appeared to be an ancient sewer grate, barely visible beneath the grime and moss that clung to it. “This has to be it.”
“Aye,” Casimir confirmed with a nod, his eyes scanning the metal bars for weaknesses. “Stand back.”
With a swift motion, he wrenched the grate with his vampire strength, the rusty iron groaning in protest before giving way. He tossed the barrier aside, revealing a narrow passage that would lead them into the bowels of the Reaper’s fortress.
Rowan peered into the abyss. “Shall we?”
He gestured with his arm. “Ladies first.”
Trying to ignore the stench that wafted from the passage, Rowan climbed in. They crawled through the darkness, guided only by the faint light of the torch Casimir carried. She could feel his presence behind her, a silent guardian watching her every move. Rats scuttled away from them along the edges of the narrow passage, their eyes gleaming in the dim light. Their scrabbling claws scraped against the stone, making her shudder in revulsion.
“I’m starting to think we should have packed some scented candles,” Rowan said, her voice laced with sarcasm to mask the fear that threatened to creep in.
Casimir snorted in response.
The passage curved and snaked, leading them deeper into the darkness. Every step made Rowan more acutely aware of the weight of the castle above bearing down on her. The air was thick and stifling, pressing against her skin like a suffocating blanket, making it difficult to suck in a breath. Her skin became cold and clammy as a chill ran through her trembling body. Despite the growing sense of claustrophobia, she was determined to move forward.
“Almost there.” Casimir’s hand found hers in the dark, squeezing it reassuringly—or was it possessively?
“Let’s hope our welcome isn’t as cold as this filthy water.”
“Either way, we face it together.”
As they rounded a final bend, the thick, coppery smell of blood enveloped Rowan’s senses. She climbed out of the floor grate into the dank underbelly of the castle, and her gaze immediately fell upon rusted chains dangling from the dark stone walls. Each link seemed to whisper tales of torture and suffering. The sight of an iron maiden, its door slightly ajar to reveal sharp spikes stained with dried crimson, made bile rise in her throat. She could almost hear the anguished screams that must have echoed through the dungeon.
“Steady.” Casimir placed his hand at the small of her back, both a comfort and a subtle reminder to steel herself. But even his touch couldn’t completely suppress the overwhelming dread and revulsion that threatened to consume her.
“How could anyone be capable of such monstrous acts?” Rowan’s voice shook with disgust and horror.
“It’s better not to think about it. Just keep moving forward step by step, and we’ll make it through.”
Rowan nodded, taking in a deep breath through her mouth to steady herself, and began to pick her way through the dungeon. Casimir stayed close as they silently maneuvered through the blood-stained rooms.
They paused at the bottom of a staircase leading up into the darkness. Rowan let out a shaky breath. “I’m not sure if I can do this.”
“Whatever we find, we’ll face together.” Casimir squeezed her hand.
Rowan looked up at his steady, unwavering gaze. He believed in her, even if she couldn’t quite believe in herself. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“All right. Let’s go before I lose my nerve,” Rowan said, setting foot on the first step. The climb was silent save for their measured footsteps and the occasional drip of water from unseen crevices overhead.
At the top of the stairs, Casimir pressed his ear to the worn, splintered wood. His eyes narrowed and a line formed between his brows as he strained to hear what lay beyond. After a moment, he nodded slightly and turned the iron handle, pushing the door open just enough to peek out.
The hallway beyond was long and narrow, lit only by torchlight that danced across the stone walls. The air was considerably fresher here, devoid of the sickening stench that clung to everything down below.
Rowan exhaled slowly, taking in the empty hallway. It was eerie in its stillness—the calm before the storm, perhaps. She could tell by his silence that Casimir felt it too. They were both on high alert.
With an almost imperceptible movement, Casimir manipulated the shadows around them. The darkness seemed to obey his command, spreading around them as if they were part of it. All at once, a blanket of darkness enveloped them. It wasn’t simply the absence of light; it was more as if reality itself had folded around them.
“My shadowmeld ability will conceal us,” he whispered. “But it’s more difficult to control the farther I extend it, so you’ll need to stay close.” His voice echoed strangely in the enclosed space, as though muffled by the layer of shadows surrounding them.
They moved through the corridor like wraiths: silent, swift, and unseen. Every creak in the castle made Rowan’s heart pound harder and her body tense up. They walked up another staircase and passed more doors. Some were ornately carved, others plain and unassuming, a potential threat lurking behind each one, just out of sight.
Casimir remained vigilant, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of movement. He stopped at frequent intervals to listen before nodding and moving forward.
They ascended a final staircase, reaching the top level of the castle. Rowan couldn’t shake the creeping feeling of foreboding churning in her gut. The silence was too oppressive, the stillness beyond unnerving .
Casimir paused again. His gaze narrowed on a door at the very end of the corridor, more lavish than the others, with golden inlays and intricate engravings. “That must be the Reaper’s quarters,” he whispered in her ear.
They crept forward, unsure of what to expect. Just as Casimir’s hand rested on the gold inlaid handle, the door swung open and vampire guards rushed into the corridor with their fangs bared, filling the space like a dark mist. Rowan froze, her blood turning to ice.
“Stay behind me,” Casimir’s voice boomed, his dark eyes blazing as he stepped in front of her.
Rowan brandished her sword, standing rooted and transfixed. Casimir moved with deadly precision, his sword in one hand and his dagger in the other. His movements were a blur, each strike meeting its target with a sickening sound, leaving only destruction in its wake. Vampires disintegrated into dust before her very eyes, their ends marked by the ferocious snarls of Casimir’s fury. She was witnessing a true warrior in action. Strength and power radiated off him.
“Stop!”
A sharp voice cut through the chaos, and Rowan was suddenly restrained from behind, the cold edge of a dagger pressed to her throat, her sword effortlessly torn from her grasp.
“Throw down your weapons, or I’ll paint the walls with her blood,” the vampire holding her sneered, pressing the sharp edge of his dagger more firmly against her skin. Her body stiffened as she struggled to stay calm, knowing one wrong move could be her last.
Every muscle in Casimir’s body went rigid before he made his decision. Slowly, he let his weapons fall to the ground. The metallic clatter reverberated through the silent corridor, like an ominous tolling bell.
“Let her go,” Casimir said. “I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt her.” He let his arms fall to his sides, defeat etched into his expression.
“Good boy,” Rowan’s capturer taunted, shoving her toward the other vampires. Casimir was quickly bound in silver chains. His face contorted in pain, but his eyes never left hers, burning with a promise.
“No!” Rowan’s scream echoed off the stone walls as she desperately tried to tap into her powers, but it was like hitting an invisible wall. No spark ignited, and no energy pulsed through her veins. She gritted her teeth and tore at invisible walls in her mind. But her magic slipped through her grasp like elusive tendrils of smoke. The block was stubborn, impenetrable, leaving her screaming on the inside while appearing helpless on the outside .
With an air of authority, the leader, who must be the Reaper, gave the order to take Casimir, pointing casually toward him with a cruel smirk. Then, turning his attention back to Rowan, he added, “As for you, my dear, I have special plans in store.”
Casimir’s eyes became narrow slits of rage. “Lay a hand on her and I’ll make you regret it.”
The Reaper chuckled cruelly. “Brave words, but useless.” With that, he turned and sauntered away, leaving Rowan with nothing but the sound of his laughter and Casimir’s agonized scream.