C H A P T E R T H I R T E E N
What I’d give to tear the nightmares from her mind.
C H A P T E R T H I R T E E N
Olwyn
I wake to screaming.
The screaming is my own.
I thrash against the warm sheets tangling around my legs, unseeing besides the flashes of dirty hands reaching out to wrap around my neck. The coarse splintered wood on the floor.
I flinch as warm, calloused hands take a gentle but firm hold of my arms.
“Olwyn,” the voice is soft, coaxing me out of this dream I seem to be stuck in whilst awake, like some tortuous mirage I can’t escape from.
“Come back, love,” it calls me gently.
I sob, but my breathing steadies as I slowly suck in each gasp to calm my racing heart.
“That’s it,” the voice sighs in what sounds like relief.
I become more aware of my body. The silk sheets underneath my clammy sweat-soaked skin. The soft fabric of my camisole as it sticks to me. The gentle but calloused hands now holding mine.
I know my eyes are probably wild. But Altair doesn’t react as I sit, dragging my sharp dagger from underneath my pillow and holding it against his throat. He just stares, with that infuriating calm expression, waiting…
“What are you doing here?” I ask, as if this whole palace doesn’t belong to him. But he has invaded what is supposed to be my sanctuary. My safe place. Although it has felt nothing but ever since that man violated it a few days ago.
“Olwyn,” Altair says quietly, some tendrils of shadow brushing over my arms gently, in a soothing caress that makes me want to move away. But I do not take my eyes off the man sitting beside me on my bed, wearing nothing but a loose pair of dark bed trousers.
I tighten my grip on the dagger, needing to feel some sense of control, some power over this man. But even as the blade cuts into his skin, drawing a single drop of blood, he doesn’t flinch. His calm, measured gaze makes me feel like a child throwing a tantrum, and I hate him more for it. I want to hurt him, to make him feel as helpless as I do, but I know—deep down—that he’s the one with all the power.
My teeth clench. “What are you doing here?” I repeat.
My eyes dart to the open door behind him, the one that I have tried countless times to open… that leads to a room I didn’t even know existed—a room that’s been next to mine this entire time. The thought of him, just a few steps away every night, makes my skin crawl.
“Your room is next to mine ?”
His brows fall into a frown. “You are my wife. What makes you think I wouldn’t stay close to keep you safe?”
I feel sick.
He heard my nightmare. Felt like he could enter my room to wake me. He must have heard me every night since the attack.
My heart pounds, not just from the remnants of the nightmare, but from the realisation that this man, this vampire, has been just a wall away from me all along. Part of me wants to shove the dagger deeper, to make him feel even a fraction of the fear that courses through me unchecked as the adrenaline from my nightmare still eats away at me. But another part—a traitorous part—whispers that maybe, just maybe, he’s telling the truth. That he wants me safe. And that scares me more than anything.
“I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep, Your Majesty .” I hiss.
“That’s not why I? —”
“Sorry that I was assaulted in your palace. Perhaps if you hadn’t taken me from my home, it wouldn’t have happened,” I spit out, too angry and upset to hold the words back.
His eyes darken. “I think you have no idea what position you’d be in right now had I not taken you from Avantra.”
“Oh yes. Because I’m much safer in a palace full of vampires who’d love nothing more than to drain me, without another human for hundreds of miles around.”
He snarls. “The vampire staff in this palace wouldn’t dream of hurting you, I trust all of them with my lif e? —save for the Lords who I have to entertain for political reasons. And there are humans in the next wing of the palace!”
What?
He sighs.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask harshly. My mind conjuring rooms filled with living blood bags.
“It means, Olwyn, that there are human staff here. Working, living, thriving.”
I shake my head. “I don’t believe you.”
“You can meet them.”
Humans. Living here, in this palace. The idea is so foreign, so contrary to everything I’ve been told, that it feels like a punch to the gut.
“Why haven’t I seen them before now?” I demand. “Because they’re nothing more than blood bags?”
He sneers. “Don’t be so crass. It’s because I didn’t want to overwhelm or confuse you so soon. I wanted to ease you into how different things are. How much you’ve been abused and brainwashed.”
“My parents never abused me,” I say in outrage.
Never.
His gaze flashes furiously. “I think you are blinded by the conditions you were kept in. If I hadn’t arrived, you would have continued to weaken, kept from good food and light until you started to wither.” The thought alone is outrageous, and yet… there’s a sliver of doubt, a nagging question that’s been there since the moment Altair took me from Avantra, but before it can flare into something more, he continues. “Something that would have pleased the king and queen immensely.”
I jerk back, pulling the dagger with me.
It is a mistake.
The dagger is out of my hand before I even realise it, Altair’s grip firm yet oddly gentle as he places it on the bedside table. I feel the loss of that small weapon acutely, like the last vestige of control slipping away. He’s too close now, his presence overwhelming, but instead of backing away, I hold my ground.
“If I was kept from good food, it was only because the vampire kings are the ones who stop Avantra being fed!” I accuse him.
He laughs darkly. “More lies. Are these lies you tell yourself? Because you don’t want to acknowledge what has clearly been right in front of your face? Or are these stories that have been ingrained in you from a young age?”
“You have no fucking clue what you are talking about! My parents wouldn’t treat me like that!”
“But they did!” he roars, his face coming to inches within mine.
I blink.
What is he talking about?
Altair’s anger flares, but beneath it, I see something else—a deep-seated frustration, maybe even guilt. His face is a mask of control, but his eyes… his eyes betray a conflict, something that he’s desperately trying to hide.
Why does he care so much about what I believe? What’s driving him to protect me, to keep me safe even as he keeps me in the dark? For a moment, I almost feel sorry for him, but then I remember who he is—what he’s done.
“Don’t you ever wonder why your parents didn’t wither and lose weight as you had? Didn’t you ever stop and consider the fact that they were keeping food from you? To weaken your access to your magic.”
I shake my head... even if he has a point. My father was gluttonous, and often drunk off ale and wine I did not see. There were… inconsistencies. I push the thought away, refusing to let it take root. But the seed of doubt has been planted, and it’s growing, no matter how hard I try to ignore it.
“They kept you weak. They kept you controlled.”
“That is a lie,” I sob, realising I am crying, but he continues.
“They kept you hidden and away from anyone who would have stood up to take care of you, because they wanted you weak.”
“You lie!” I scream in his face, tears streaming down my face. “If this is true, why haven’t you told me before now? Why leave me in this palace by myself the night you took me?”
His eyes soften, like he has come to a realisation I have yet not. “I knew you would be looked after, more than in your old home.”
“This is not my home!”
Why does he look hurt? “This is more of a home than you had with them! Whether you want it to be or not. You have never looked healthier, and you are starting to get stronger.”
“Only because you want to use me for my magic.”
He laughs again, the sound cold and cruel. “If that is genuinely what you believe, you might as well take that dagger and draw it across my throat to shut me up. Because nothing I say will make you believe me.” His fingers run through his hair in frustration, his voice soft but firm. “I know I’ve taken you from everything familiar, but this isn’t about cruelty. There are reasons, personal and complex, that you may not yet understand.”
His words cut deep, but the pain they bring isn’t just from the accusation—it’s from the gnawing doubt that has been growing inside me since he came back. Why hasn’t he killed me? Fed from me? Could everything I’ve believed be twisted? But no—this is Altair. The vampire who tore me from my home. How could I ever trust him? Yet, the honesty in his voice, the way he looks at me… I hate that a small part of me wants to hear him out.
“You say that, but all I see is that you’ve ripped me from my home and thrown me into a world I don’t belong in.”
Altair sighs deeply, turning away to stare out the window, the moonlight casting shadows on his face. The sight of it looks like an image made by a master painter, and I must stop my breath hitching at the sight,
It’s cruel that someone could be that beautiful.
“I can’t explain everything right now. Some truths are too dangerous to reveal too soon.”
That’s bullshit.
“So, I’m just supposed to accept that you’ve upended my life with no explanation? Just for some diluted magic that runs in my veins, but I can’t use. Is this about Casius?” My voice trembles.
His shoulders slump, eyes closing briefly. “I wish I could tell you everything, but there are forces at play that go beyond what you see. What I can promise is that my actions are not driven by malice.” He turns back, his gaze locking onto mine with what looks like a mix of regret and earnestness. “If you knew everything, you might understand why this was necessary.”
I tilt my head. “And when can I know? When will you trust me enough to tell me?”
“In time. I need you to trust that I’m trying to protect more than just myself in this. Trust is not given lightly, but it is earned. I hope to earn yours by proving that my intentions, however misguided they may seem now, are for the greater good.”
I take a measured breath, feeling grateful we are having this conversation. He genuinely seems to feel like keeping me in the dark is for my own good. “And what if I can’t trust you? What if I can’t see past the way you’ve treated me?”
“Then I must ask for patience. I hope you can reflect on the fact that whilst I did take you, I have never intentionally hurt you. I have not degraded you, demanded much from you or fed from you. And I never will.”
Why do his words sound like the truth?
“I am willing to show you through my actions that your well-being is important to me, even if the full story remains untold for now.”
My fingers fidget with the sheet covering my legs as I look away, a little bit scared of the intensity in his eyes. “Actions speak louder than words.”
Altair nods, a small, almost sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’ll do my best to show you that despite the harshness of my decisions, I have reasons that might, in time, make sense. For now, I hope you can see the care underlying them.” He reaches out again, this time gently placing his hand on my shoulder. I don’t jerk away from the movement.
“Can you show me anything now?” The request shocks me as much as it shocks him. I don’t fully believe what he has told me. But if he can offer proof, I will consider it.
“I can’t do that,” he says, looking away, his jaw tightening. It’s not just concern in his eyes—there’s something else, something darker that he’s trying to keep hidden. Is it fear? Regret? The silence between us stretches, and I wonder what secrets he’s guarding so fiercely that he’d rather risk my mistrust than reveal them.
“Why not?” My voice lowers.
He looks at me, head tilting as he considers me. It’s hard not to feel self-conscious under his gaze. His fingers brush the healing bruises on my neck, and I force myself to stay still, to not flinch. The touch is tender, almost reverent, but it’s also a reminder of how easily he could hurt me if he chose to. His gaze locks onto mine, and for a moment, it’s like he’s searching for something—some sign that I trust him, or maybe that I don’t. The space between us feels charged, like the air before a storm, and I can’t decide if I want to lean closer or pull away.
“Because I won’t do anything to put you in a position where you could get hurt again.”
“Because you need me.” I nod.
“No, Olwyn,” his eyes pin mine. “Because I want you.”
My eyes widen and he coughs.
“Uh, I want you to be safe.”
I huff. His full lips part for a moment, before closing in a small smile.
“But if I want you to trust me, I need to trust you with some truths too.” He nods, although he seems reluctant.
“Truths?” I ask, almost too eagerly, as if waiting for the other boot to drop.
“I will allow the human staff to go about their usual duties, and I have a plan to prove that it isn’t my kind causing all the neglect. But you must do as I say.”
I raise an eyebrow, my gaze narrowing. “I want to speak with them,” I say, cutting him off before he can finish. “I want to talk to the human staff directly, openly. If you want me to believe you, then I need to hear it from them.”
He meets my gaze for a long moment, his eyes softening as if he’s finally seeing the weight of what he’s kept hidden. Finally, he exhales slowly, almost as if the words are a weight lifted off his chest. “That’s a valid request. I’ll make sure they’re available for you.”
“I regret not showing you this from the start,” he admits, his voice quieter now, a hint of vulnerability threading through it. “Maybe if I had, you could have seen me as something more than a monster. The humans live here, too. I should have trusted you with that from the beginning.”
I don’t know what to do with his admission, it so at odds with how I thought this conversation would go.
“All right,” is all I say.
“Give me two weeks,” he asks. “Two weeks to continue your training myself. Stick to it and I’ll show you.”
That didn’t sound too bad. I wanted to continue my training anyways. I didn’t want to be weak again.
I nod. “Deal.”
I’ve just willingly made a pact with a vampire, one who claims he’s trying to protect me, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve stepped onto a path I might not be able to turn back from. Better the demon you know, I remind myself. But what if that demon is more dangerous than I ever imagined?