CHAPTER 1 AILEEN
CHAPTER 1
AILEEN
I watched as the beautiful view of New England disappeared from the airplane window, and it did nothing to quench my bloodthirst.
Anger, caused by a deep-seated betrayal, reigned over me, so much so I hardly remembered how I got on this plane. Everything that happened after Ragnor Rayne sold me off to the highest bidder was like a blurry haze in my mind.
There was so much I didn’t get to do after the Auction concluded. Once Lord Atalon bought everyone he wanted, we had no time to say goodbye or even collect our things. “Your bags will be in your rooms when you arrive” was all he said as he led us out and away from the Rayne League. And while I no longer wanted to stay there, I wished I had been given at least five minutes to tell Ragnor how much I hated him.
Because I did.
I hated him with everything I had.
He’d been like an oasis in a desert I wasn’t aware I’d been treading across. Like the light at the end of a long dark tunnel. I foolishly thought that I was like that for him too. That he needed me as much as I needed him. That he couldn’t bear the thought of parting with me. That breathing without one another was impossible.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
He’d given me hope for a better future. Made me believe I could become someone better. That I could be less of a monster.
Then he took it all away by willingly handing me over to another.
“Aileen.”
I almost jumped as I whipped my head to my right, where the empty seat was now inhabited by Lord Atalon. He looked as immaculate as when we’d left, not one platinum hair out of its sleek place. My eyes met his dark ones, a stark contrast to those of the man I’d just been thinking about, and I forced myself to give him a somewhat cordial smile. “Yes, my Lord?”
“Please, call me Atalon,” he said, putting one long leg on top of the other. He was still wearing his classic white tux with a red tie, which clung tightly to his lean figure and also made his skin look paler than its alabaster tone. “Would you like some champagne?”
Before I could reply, an attendant appeared, as if out of thin air, and handed us two glasses of champagne. When she was gone, Atalon raised his glass. “Let’s have a toast.”
The last thing I wanted was to celebrate, but I played along. We clinked our glasses together, and he then sipped the wine from the plastic fluted glass, a look of elation on his face.
I shifted uncomfortably and looked away, taking a small sip before putting the glass down. I was in no mood to drink, and Atalon’s probing gaze would not convince me otherwise.
“I’m looking forward to seeing you flourish in my League, Aileen,” Atalon now said, his soft voice drawing my gaze back to him. He gave me a kind smile as he grabbed my hand and squeezed. “I believe you have so much potential. I wouldn’t have bought you otherwise.”
His words felt sincere, and yet they were not enough to make my anger abate. “Thank you, my Lord,” I said, as I was taught to address all vampire Lords.
He sighed as he let my hand go and leaned back. “I told you to call me Atalon,” he said, seemingly disheartened.
Chills spread across my skin. “It’s all right, my Lord,” I said quietly. “I know my place.”
And that was the absolute truth. Because unlike before, I knew how things worked in the vampiric society. I understood the hierarchy, especially as a Common vampire. I understood what was expected of me.
My mind went back to the Auction, to my performance. To when, for a few moments, it was as if I was transported to another dimension. There was a naked bird dying in my arms, and I’d felt that loss before I’d returned to the Auction Hall and realized time had stopped.
And that it was me who’d stopped time.
I turned away from Atalon and leaned my forehead against the cool window, closing my eyes. I had no idea what any of that meant, and for a split second, I debated telling Atalon about it.
But even if I trusted him, which I didn’t—not yet at least—an instinct told me to keep my mouth shut.
The same instinct that had been telling me Ragnor Rayne was dangerous right from the very beginning, when I’d first seen him at the Hole before knowing who he was or what he was.
And so, for the rest of the flight, I kept silent, stewing in my own rage, grief, and confusion.
Tossing and turning in bed, I tried to put my mind to rest, but I couldn’t. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since I’d prepared for the Auction, believing against all odds that Ragnor Rayne, the cold, aloof vampire Lord, would eventually come around and choose me. Since I’d left the Rayne League.
After being escorted by a Lieutenant, seeing my name on the suite’s door and the bags placed neatly inside my new bedroom, I was overcome by exhaustion. That exhaustion took a turn for the worse when I got in the shower and tried to wash the remnants of the Rayne League off my skin to no avail.
And yet Ragnor’s face seemed to make camp in my mind, refusing to leave me be.
His midnight blue eyes going neon when he moved inside me.
His lips, which could be either rough or soft on mine.
His bristled jaw caressing the inner skin of my thighs ...
Too restless to sleep, I shoved the blanket away and got out of bed. I lived in suite 431 along with two other Commons. Each bedroom had its own en suite bathroom, and the common area consisted of a spacious living room with a TV screen and a video streamer. It was similar in design to the newbie suite I’d lived in back at the Rayne League, though a tad bit larger. And red. Because for some unfathomable reason, Lord Atalon insisted the entire underground compound color scheme would include all shades of red, making it look like a mix between a blood cell and a Victorian-era brothel.
When I entered the living room, I saw that I wasn’t the only one suffering from insomnia on my first night in the new League. A woman sat on one of the couches, her body shuddering and her sobs stifled.
I debated whether to go back to my room when the woman raised her head from her hands and looked right at me. “Feeling pathetic, too, aren’t you?” she said almost aggressively, as if her eyes weren’t bloodshot and tears weren’t freshly wet on her cheeks. “Feel free to join my pity party. No invitation required.”
When she made it sound so appealing, how could I possibly refuse?
Decision made, I took a seat on the couch next to hers. Then, before she could resume her crying, and before I would be tempted to punch the wall to alleviate some of the tension that crept into the room, I said, voice raspy with misuse, “We sat next to each other back at the Auction. You’re Isora, right?”
Isora sniffled and nodded. “Yes, that’s me,” she said bitterly. “The poor second-timer who left one hell for another.”
I’d forgotten about that, and now I knew why she was crying. Second-timers were vampires who’d already been through one Auction yet wanted to leave the League they were bought into. Every vampire had one more chance at the Auction, but it wasn’t recommended, because in the strict vampiric hierarchy we lived in, second-timers were at the absolute bottom of the food chain. And yet, some vampires were so miserable that they were willing to take that chance. Still, I couldn’t imagine why she viewed the Atalon League so poorly. It had to be better than her previous experience.
I did remember Isora used to be a Renaldi League member, and from my own encounters with Lord Renaldi, including that dreadful visit to his League in Las Vegas during the newcomers’ field trip a couple of months back, I could understand why she chose to forsake her former station in favor of a lower, possibly worse one.
“I doubt Lord Atalon is as bad as Renaldi,” I now said. I didn’t think I would’ve been able to stomach it if I’d been sold to anyone else, to be frank.
Isora gave me a shivery smile. Even with her tear-soaked face, Isora was pretty. Her eyes, red though they were, were a mesmerizing electric blue. Her chocolate brown hair lay smoothly down her back, not a strand out of place. Her small pointy nose and thick lips only added to her doll-like looks. Along with her curvy build, she was an absolute knockout.
I hadn’t noticed her like that before at the Auction, but then again, I had been too preoccupied to notice anything or anyone else around me.
It seemed Isora was taking me in for the first time, too, because she gave me a thorough once-over, like the one I’d just given her, and said with half a smile, “I was sure your hair was darker.”
“Oh,” I murmured absentmindedly.
Isora chuckled, and I raised my eyes back to her. “You look upset,” she said, then glanced away. “Though you shouldn’t be.”
Her words made me pause. “And why is that?”
She gave me a teary smile. “Didn’t you notice?” she asked, and when I frowned, she chuckled again before dropping her gaze. “Our new Lord obviously favors you. He didn’t approach any of us on the plane but you.”
My gut clenched. There was only one man whose favor I wanted, and no one else.
“I wouldn’t count on that,” I told her, unable to contain the anger in my words. “Vampire Lords are extremely fickle.”
And I would do well to remember that.
I was done dancing to the Lords’ tune.
Now, it was time to dance to my own.