Chapter 11
As Lila awoke that evening, her eyelids fluttered, her heart felt warm, and her body felt . . . actually rested. It may have just been the best sleep she’d had in the three months since she’s been in the Morada.
Ambrose?she called. She felt the remnants of the Concord still open, but when no response came, she knew he must be asleep.
Lords, he probably looked like a god right now. She imagined him shirtless in bed, sprawled out with nothing but a sliver of blanket covering his—
She felt something slither along her leg just before it coiled around her calf. Immediately, Lila closed the connection with the Concord. She abruptly sat up in bed and tossed the covers off her.
Slithering up her leg was a yellow-eyed viper. Its scales were a number of shades of brown, all pointed to look like the scales of a dragon.
Hektor.
He flicked his tongue against Lila’s knee as he passed, his tail coiling around Lila’s flesh. The rough scales felt like tiny rocks grazing her skin and she wanted so desperately to smack him away, but she knew if she did, he’d only bite her. And he struck so quickly while in this form.
The first night she was at the Crow Court flashed through her mind. She still remembered the pain that rocked her entire body when Ambrose had to remove Hektor’s venom. His was the worst of them—like removing tar from her bloodstream.
“Little Moussse,” he hissed, slithering up her thigh. “I can sssmell what’sss between your thighsss.” He slithered closer and Lila felt paralyzed—not from a thrall or Drusilla’s venom. But from fear. “Did you touch yourssself to the thought of me?” The snake coiled just before the apex of her thighs, flicking its tongue out once again.
In the blink of an eye, the snake became a man, and Hektor caged her under him as his hands and knees rested on either side of her.
Lila almost shrieked at the sight of him—half of his face looked as though he had stuck it in a pot of boiling water. It was bubbling and oozing white liquid, a shade too pink to be considered normal. The same marks marred his chin and neck and Lila realized—that was where she had touched him in her village. That was where she used her power to push him away.
The burns didn’t heal.
Hektor raised an eyebrow. “How do you like your handy work? I think it makes me look . . . mysterious.” He neared her, and she pressed herself as far back into the bed as she could. “Neat little trick, pet. But, boy, was Drusilla upset. She has a little . . . punishment waiting for you.”
Another jerking movement had Lila whimpering as Hektor threw his hand past her and reached under her bed. He smirked as she winced, agonizing over her own fear.
“Not only do I smell your delicious cum, but I smell . . .” He seemed to dig around what he was searching for, before “Ah,” and yanked her stake free of the mattress. “This. Kinky, pet. Using this to get off? You could’ve just snuck into my bedroom. I would’ve let you use my cock all day long. In fact, you don’t even have to ask.” He jerked forward again, purposefully scaring her.
She tried her best not to flinch, but that only made him angry. He sat back, crushing her thighs under him, and grabbed Lila’s cheeks between his fingers. Her lips puckered, and though she immediately tried to fight his grip, it was useless.
“Taste yourself,” he mumbled, bringing the edge of the stake that drove her to bliss that afternoon to her lips. When she didn’t move, he pushed it past her teeth and rubbed the wood against her tongue. “Do you like the taste of yourself?” Hektor pulled it from her lips and brought it to his own. He dragged his tongue along the corner, swirling it at the edge before he groaned against it.
“Fuck,” he said. “This is what you taste like?” He sucked on the edge of it, clamping his teeth into the wood. “I knew you were sweet, but . . .”
When his eyes closed, still sucking the wood, Lila sprang into action.
She focused her fear into the tops of her thighs, scalding where Hektor sat on her. Just as he impulsively rose for the briefest moment, she refocused that fear into her palms and pushed. She pushed him back, and he lost balance, his back flattening on the bed. Then Lila leaped off the mattress, propelling herself forward, and sprinting at full speed.
If she could get to Ciro, even Drusilla, she knew she’d at least be safe from Hektor’s vile sexual assaults. Hopefully. She was afraid one more minute alone with him, and Hektor may take her, no matter how unwilling she was. Maybe even more because of it.
She dashed through the halls of the Morada yet again, feeling like it was becoming a common occurrence. Footsteps pounded on the stone behind her, but she dared not look back. She knew Hektor was near but the moment of hesitation would mean he’d reach her.
Lila felt as she did the night Ambrose finally took her from here. When she had seen Ciro’s parents dead on the floor, when he tried to make her kiss him, when Hektor chased her down and bit into her thigh.
It felt the same now as it did then. She felt the same now as she did then. Weak, useless, and so utterly . . . human.
Just outside the large oak doors to the great hall, Hektor—in his monstrous form—leaped on top of her, shoving her down to the floor. Lila immediately screamed, hoping someone would hear her and actually help. She screamed and screamed, and Hektor tried to pull her under him, but she didn’t stop fighting against him.
The door was thrown open and an icy glare shot down her spine. Ciro was there, and just as she’d hoped, Hektor stopped in his tracks.
“I said bring her here, not attack her,” Ciro said coldly.
Lila clawed at the stone floor, pulling herself forward, toward the lesser of two evils.
She heard a snicker behind her as Hektor sat up on his knees. “I thought I’d have some fun first. After all, she did this to my face. I felt I had the right to punish her myself.”
Ciro practically hissed. “You have no right. Remember that, brother.”
The tension was palpable. Since being here, she could do little more than weave her words like poison. No—like venom. They pumped her with their weakening sickness each time they bit her, and she filled their minds with thoughts of power—who was the stronger brother? Who had more power here? Who owned her?
If she could think of something, she could use this tension. Prove her strength and break theirs.
She grabbed onto Ciro’s pant leg. “Ciro! He—”
But it was broken the moment Drusilla groaned from deeper in the room. “When will you boys shut up? It’s power trip after power trip with you two.”
His back may have been to Drusilla, but Lila saw Ciro roll his eyes and clench his fist. His sleeves had been rolled up to his elbow, and the tattoo of a black widow on his forearm reminded her of Drusilla’s snake coiling down her arm. Of their bargain. Or, bargains it seemed.
“Bring her in already,” Drusilla demanded.
With the breath of a sigh, Ciro reached down and hauled Lila up by her arm. He dragged her after him, her feet barely keeping in time with his steps.
“Where do you want her?”
He was asking her like she owned the place. Like she were lord of the manor, not him. When had he grown so complacent? So obedient?
Maybe, she’d been focusing on the wrong power struggle all along. Maybe, instead of sowing doubt between Hektor and Ciro, she should’ve been focusing on the dynamic between the brothers and Drusilla all along
Drusilla stood up from where she lounged, and Lila immediately knew something was very, very wrong. She pulled at where Ciro held her, trying to remove his hand from her but his grip only tightened. She felt more of that singed skin and saw the mark she’d left on Ciro’s hand had remained as well.
This was why she was being punished. Not because of Ambrose, not because of her pleasure last night, but because of this. Her powers. Her powers to hurt them and damage Drusilla’s cause.
Ciro seemed to see the realization in Lila’s eyes, and something almost akin to pity crossed his features in a flash. Almost.
“Outside, I think. The snow will add to her wounds wonderfully.”
Wounds? Lila didn’t have any wounds.
Not yet.
Hektor came up on her other side, grabbing her arm, and pulled her along with Ciro. He carried something in his free hand, but it was covered in a dark wrapping and he seemed to be hiding it behind his body.
“A little bug needs two vampires, the Reinick lords, to carry her?” Drusilla crossed her arms over her chest, pouted her red lips, and curved a blond eyebrow before walking before the three of them.
“Well, apparently she’s got a burning touch. So, if she tried it again, one of us can be back up while the other gets burned,” Hektor explained, almost more to himself than anyone else.
“Or she’ll burn you both,” Drusilla said flatly.
Lila didn’t fight as they dragged her out of the Morada and across the snowy ground. It was already past the spring equinox, yet the snow fell heavily.
And as they rounded a corner, more than the snow sent shivers across Lila’s skin.
Tons of vampires were outside, wearing thick coats and training. Many of those vampires were strigoi, fighting each other like animals in the wild, fighting over pieces of bones and flesh.
As they got closer to the crowds of vampires, Ciro pushed Lila to her knees and stopped behind her.
“Fellow vampires of the Viper Morada and the Reclus army,” Drusilla called. “For months we have wondered what this human did to our allies, the strigoi morte, fighting with us at the Crow Court. For months we have watched and studied, but for months we came up empty. But that is no more. My assumptions were proven correct last night.” Drusilla took a step closer to Lila, kicking snow into her face. “This human is the Sun Child. Our biggest threat. Yet, she is here—by fate—in our possession.”
The Sun Child. Lila looked up at Drusilla, at Ciro . . . even at the other vampire. She’d heard that term before, but she thought it was just a reference to her powers, how sun-like her warmth had been. She knew she was descended from the original vampire’s first wife. But why did it all sound so . . . official? So important?
Ciro stepped forward. “She marred my brother and me, and as lord of the house, I cannot let this go unpunished. But after—” he paused, his eyes meeting Lila’s. “After, she is ours. Wholly and truly ours . . . to use and command as we please. She will no longer only be our pet. She will be our weapon.”
Lila’s eyes went wide. How—
Hektor lurched her back, dragging her in the snow.
“What are—” But the words struggled to come out. She fought and kicked and used her heat to singe his knuckles. But he didn’t let go.
Hektor threw her down, knocking her into the ground just in front of a large wooden beam, before lifting each of her hands and binding them high above her with a rope so rough, it immediately irritated the flesh at the smalls of her wrists.
She bucked against them, pulling at them as hard as she could. Lila felt her skin break within seconds.
“Let me go!”
Her back was to the crowd and at the angle she was in, she could barely see Drusilla or the brothers.
She tried to focus her power on the ropes, saw the small coil of smoke as she began to burn through. Her hands shook, as panic started to overtake her.
Then, with a crack of lightning through the air, something slashed against Lila’s back. She immediately felt her flesh rip open as she screamed. The heat was all new to her, as another crack broke against her back.
Whipped. She was being whipped and torn apart. Torn open in front of a number of blood-thirsty vampires. She screamed again, louder this time.
The moment she thought to call out for Ambrose, another whip cracked against her back.
Three.
Three raging marks. The pain was blinding—worse than that of the venom removal. And the snow dropping into her now-open wounds felt like knives being stabbed into her flesh. She sobbed, feeling snot and tears cover her face, as another whip crashed against her.
“Pl-please,” she mumbled, but either they didn’t hear her or they didn’t care. Another whip slashed her back open.
“One more, bug,” Drusilla cooed. Lila heard the tightening of leather around Drusilla’s palm, and another crack split her in half.
Someone untied her from the post, Lila didn’t see who. Her eyes were too filled with tears.
She felt so breakable. Like glass cracked on the floor.
All the development her body had endured—all her mind had endured. The healing when she was at the Crow Court, the growth and strength—it was all for nothing.
In the next moment, Lila was being dragged across the snow, and placed in front of a fire. The fire made the flayed skin on her back feel as though they were melting off of her, revealing only muscle and tissue.
Her eyes cleared just enough for her to see Hektor smiling at her. Smiling, and holding her stake. Ambrose’s stake. He twirled it between his fingers and without so much as a word, threw it into the flames.
“No!” Lila lurched forward, throwing her fist into the fire. That weapon was the only thing that made Lila feel safe or strong. It was her only connection to Ambrose. It was what made her . . . what made her okay.
Someone was hauling her back by her ankles, her hand burning in the flames. But she didn’t care, she kept trying to reach it, kept trying to grab it, but it was wood. It was already burning away. All of Ambrose’s hard work from carving it to waxing it had just been destroyed.
A ragged cry tore through her as the vampires and strigoi of the court before her continued laughing and jeering, approaching with hunger shining in their eyes. Lila would have none of it.
“Don’t worry, bug,” Drusilla’s voice cooed behind her, and Lila felt a wave of fog wrap around her mind.
“You’ll soon forget all about Ambrose Draven,” Ciro whispered as another kind of fog clouded her. They were both enthralling her. At the same time.
“Now, pet,” Drusilla said.
Ciro finished, “Submit.”
And as soon as the words left their lips, Hektor stepped forward, the item he’d been carrying before in his hands. He tossed off the black sheet and below sat a golden collar. A collar meant for her.
“Stay still, pet.” She didn’t even know who was speaking, but her body didn’t move an inch as Hektor reached forward and put the collar around her neck.
Rage overtook all of Lila’s thoughts. Rage, and the heat of the fire. Fuck this, Lila thought, breaking their attempt at a thrall.
She thrust her fist back blindly, knocking the collar from Hektor’s hands, jumped up, and kicked him hard in the chest. The imprint of her foot left a gaping hole surrounded by black-singed edges on his shirt. “Touch me again and I’ll melt your fucking face off next,” she spat.
Hektor smirked but retreated a step back, and Ciro and Drusilla kept their distance as heat sang through Lila’s bones. Lila felt her skin prickle, the hair on her arms stood on their ends and a thin layer of dew covered her flesh. An aura of heat surrounded her, radiated from her, and Lila watched as the snow all around melted instantly, leaving nothing but the muddy ground beneath her toes.
“What are you standing around for?” Drusilla called from behind her. “Get her!”
The crowd of vampires before her barely stirred, maybe a few stepped forward, but only the strigoi headed their mistress. They crawled through the mud, clicking and clacking their pronged jaws, but Lila wasn’t afraid of them anymore. So, facing the crowd before her, Lila stepped forward to meet them.
“Fuck you,” another step. “You do not own me,” another step. Lila didn’t stop, she neared the crowd, taking her power with her.
The heat grew, sizzling off of her—so hot, she could see the haze warp the air around her. And by the time the first strigoi jumped at her, claws and fangs bared to kill, Lila did nothing but watch as its skin melted off its bones, as its clothes singed and burst in flames, as its eyes popped from its head and dripped down its charring white skin.
Pop.
The noise sickened her, but before her body could gag, another strigoi was melting—then another and another, and soon the vampires were in the mix, melting and burning and oozing to the muddy ground beneath her. She couldn’t distinguish the melted skin from the melted snow, the oozing black blood from muddy dirt that squelched with each step.
With just a few steps, Lila had wiped out a chunk of the Viper Morada’s nobility, a chunk of those wicked and loyal to the Lord of the manor—but with them, she had also killed strigoi.
Strigoi who were once people, vampire or not.
The realization immediately sent ice down to her very being. Dread filled her like a raging sea, threatening to break out. Innocent people. People who didn’t want to be strigoi in the first place. What if . . . the strigoi had been murine? What if they’d been people from her town Drusilla had changed just the other night?
Lila couldn’t breathe, her lungs wouldn’t loosen, and her throat was too tight, like she’d swallowed a rock. Like a scream could burst through her, but it was lodged within.
She’d protected herself, but at what cost?
The bodies melding with mud splashed on her thighs, her arms, as Lila collapsed into herself.
Breathe, Little Mouse, she remembered Ambrose saying to her once. Breathe.
But she couldn’t.
She’d killed people. She’d killed people who’d been like her.
The last thing Lila saw was the black ooze and brown mud coating her fingers as she fisted the ground, and Hektor’s marred hands circling her throat. The last thing she felt was the cold bite of metal compressing her throat even more, as a silent yelp escaped her lips. The last thing she heard was the click of the lock.
And then, Lila was no more.