15. Chapter 15
Chapter 15
F ootsteps echoed after them in the darkened tunnels, a glance behind told Aurelia they were being distantly followed.
An arm pushed her back against the wall, all of the questions poised on her tongue roughly cut off as Ven pressed his body into hers.
Ven’s eyes blazed with urgency as he bent his head toward her. His skin was flushed, the dark circles that had been under his eyes disappearing as he lifted his arm to his mouth and tore into his wrist “You need to drink.”
The metal shackles still circled his wrists, his power just as useless as her own here.
The scent of him mingled in the air between them, every one of her senses focusing on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the sound of his blood rushing through his veins.
She swallowed thickly, a dull ache spreading through her jaw as she tried to deny herself.
“None of us can afford to be weak in this place,” he murmured, “drink.”
She ran her tongue across her canines, every nerve in her body reacting to the command in his voice as her lips parted and she sank her teeth into the smooth skin at his wrist.
The adrenaline that had kept her upright until this point finally drained out of her, leaving her gasping. Fire crept up her throat, the hunger and the exhaustion from before crashing down on her all at once as her knees threatened to give out. Ven hooked his arm around her waist, his scent filling her nose and blocking out every thought. Pine, and citrus, and something earthy, something utterly him that was impossible to describe.
Her teeth seemed to grow sharper, relief crashing through her body as she drank, hating herself for how ravenous she was, but Ven never moved to step out of her grasp as she took her fill.
She hadn’t taken his blood like this since she’d gone into stasis in that dark, quiet cavern in the belly of Ravenstone. And her memories of that time were fleeting and hazy, only the torturous pain that she’d endured to be forged into this new, unbreakable thing. There was an echo of the exquisite relief that she’d felt as her power had finally flooded back into her, alloyed and welded into her very being. But now—drinking Ven’s blood from his vein was something akin to ecstasy.
Forcing herself to pull away, she gasped from the sheer effort of releasing him as heat wound through her body. His blood feeding more than just her magick.
His skin was flushed as he gazed down at her, breath ragged in his throat, his pulse thudding faster than it had a few moments ago.
Stepping away from her, he tilted his head toward the corridor and led her further into the mountain keep.
She didn’t know anything of his upbringing other than the bits and pieces he’d told her of his mother. All of his fond memories seemed to be tethered to Ravenstone—to his true home. And yet it made her wonder what memories he tried to blot out, which ones he chose not to remember.
A child wandering these halls . . . It was impossible to picture a small, innocent boy in this cold, cruel place.
They passed the set of tunnels that stretched on either side, her eyes skirting the periphery of the cells. Dull eyes gazed out from between the iron bars, lifeless and unresponsive.
“Why don’t they fight? Why don’t they try to flee?” she whispered.
Ven glanced toward the cells. “They’re fed small amounts of blood—they lose their will over time until they’re pliable and obedient.” The words had a bitterly sharp edge.
Seeing these humans completely devoid of any will. Any choice. Any thought of their own.
Shame flooded her veins, turning them cold as she recalled the same look on Bastien’s face when she’d used compulsion on him. She couldn’t bring herself to regret what she’d done in that moment, but now she understood why Ven was so hesitant to use it.
“The Nostari treat humans no better than chattel—but they’ll offer their blood to them?” she whispered.
“There’s power in our blood . . . just a small amount, but enough that it gives the humans unnaturally long lifespans. Keeps them subservient. A human doesn’t pose any threat to their magick, and it’s a small price to pay for a blood source that can last more than a century if they’re careful.”
Muffled sobs echoed out from one of the cells. Small, quiet pleas from a voice that didn’t sound dazed like the others. Hazel eyes met Aurelia’s through the bars, the fire in them still blazing with hatred and clarity—the same woman she’d seen before. She must have been a new prisoner if she still had the will to fight.
How long did it take for a human to finally break? How much blood was required to poison their minds against any desire to leave this hell?
A prickle tugged at her skin, and she looked down to see the hole in her shoulder knitting itself back together, the jagged tear smoothing over with new, flawless skin. Bitterness coated her mouth at the reason both of them were alive right now, and she glanced toward Ven.
“You killed her so that I wouldn’t. . .” she said softly.
Crimson eyes flicked to her. “I tried to ease her passing,” he quietly replied.
You will feel no pain, no fear. Go to your gods and leave this place behind.
He’d used compulsion to offer one final mercy.
Ven had drained the life from that girl so that she wouldn’t have to. He’d seen the hunger in her eyes and known she wouldn’t be able to refuse for long—half-starved and injured. He had much more control than she did, he probably could have held out for days longer—weeks. But he’d taken an innocent life so that she would remain clean of the sin. So that she wouldn’t be the one to bear that burden.
“So he knows,” she said softly, “about your gift.” Guilt coiled around her, wondering if he'd exposed himself trying to offer her a chance of escape.
He gave a humorless laugh. “It’s the only reason my father hasn’t killed me. I’m useful to him as long as I’m here under his nose." Determination blazed in his stare as he gripped her arm. "He can never find out about you—ever.” Something else flickered in his expression . . . Fear.
He only released her once she nodded her understanding.
“Karro . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to ask the question aloud. Didn’t want to conjure the thought into existence.
“If they’d killed him, my father wouldn’t have done it quietly. He’s alive—he’s more useful that way. Karro is the only other person with a claim to my mother’s throne and he’s another carrot to dangle in front of me.”
“But what does he want from you?”
“My father is hungry for what he might accomplish with me at his side—it’s why my mother took me and fled from this place. She saw the gift I possessed long before he realized I was a vorare .” He glanced toward her. “A mind eater.”
“It’s not a kind name.”
“It’s not a kind gift . . .” he countered, looking down to his booted feet. “He wants me to rule beside him.”
“But what of Valea?” she asked.
It seemed like the easier answer. She already stood at his side willingly, and she seemed formidable in her own right with the way his court seemed to fear her.
“The nobility will never recognize a bastard as heir.” Ven shook his head ruefully. “Few things are sacred in this place, but claiming a mate is one of them. And my father claimed my mother before his entire kingdom.” His gaze went distant for a moment before he continued. “My father’s crown will never pass to her—his power will never pass to her. With me at his side, he stands a chance to reunite the two kingdoms and rule over them both.”
Of course. If Ven sat beside his father and the only other heir to his mother’s throne was imprisoned, it would be much easier to conquer the other half of the Blood Folk.
Dread clenched icy fingers around her chest.
The thought of everyone she had come to know and love either subjected to this existence or death . . .
“They held me in a cell somewhere far below,” she breathed, conscious of the pairs of immortal ears listening behind them. “I think that’s where they’re keeping Karro . . . but there are other things—”
“Demons,” Ven whispered. “They trap them for their venom and as an extra precaution to guard their dungeons,” his head dropped a fraction, a heavy breath loosening from his chest before he looked up, a mask of resolve over his face once more.
“We will find a way out of this place.” she uttered, the sound of their escorts’ footsteps growing closer. “I am not without teeth.”
A wild look came over Ven’s expression as he gripped her wrist, “If my father realizes the kind of magick you possess, he will either use you as a weapon or he will offer you up to the King of the Void,” he breathed, casting a glance behind them. “If you use your magick—use it to get yourself away from this place, do you understand me?” Ven’s voice was full of quiet fury as the door to her chambers loomed ahead. “Find a way out, and do not look back.”
Before she could respond, the heavy door was opened and she was pushed inside. And only once she was alone, she finally let her head drop and her shoulders cave in, bitter tears falling from her eyes. Tears for the young girl who had died tonight. Tears for the young woman still trapped here.
Because either one of them could have been her in another life.