Bound By Blood and Contracts (Bound By #1)

Prologue

FAE

Drip, drip, drip.

My arms ache as I stand in the dark room. Little flickers of candlelight dance along the walls, making everything feel warmer. I like that part.

When I first came down here I was scared, even though Daddy told me not to be.

I couldn’t help it. The cold sank its claws into my bones like a bird grabbing its dinner and refusing to let go.

The shiver spread across my body and my heart started racing, but I still took one step forward.

Apparently, that is all you need to do. One step at a time.

At least that is what Felix tells me.

Drip, drip, drip.

Felix and I never liked disappointing Daddy.

His moods started getting confusing after we lost Mummy.

I felt like I was walking on eggshells most of the time.

But Felix, he protected me. He always protected me.

Daddy didn’t get as mad with Felix as he did with me, so Felix is able to say things I’m not and he keeps me safe. The problem is Felix isn’t here today.

I am.

And I will be damned if I don’t give it my best shot.

Drip, drip, drip.

The door jolts open and I lift my head to see Daddy and his friends stepping in.

The cobwebs sparkle with frost like tiny lights in the dark.

I try to move my shoulders again. It hurts.

But Daddy would be mad if I moaned, so I give a small smile and concentrate on my breathing.

Maybe this is a good sign, right? Daddy would not bring his friends here for no reason. Maybe I’m going to be fixed.

Drip, drip, drip.

I would like to be fixed. I’m not sure what is happening to me.

Do you know how scary it is to bleed from somewhere you’re not supposed to?

Well, I hope you never do. Two days ago, I was going for a wee when I wiped and there was just blood everywhere.

I screamed, obviously and my bodyguard Willie came crashing in to save me from the danger.

The problem was the danger was coming from inside me.

When Willie saw what was happening, he dragged me by my arm to my Daddy’s office.

I was thrown on the floor and cried to Daddy that I was dying.

Weirdly, Daddy didn’t seem that concerned for me.

But he did tell me that it was the first day of a new life for me.

I still don’t know what he means by that.

Drip, drip, drip.

After Willie dragged me back into my room, my housekeeper Linda came in and gave me a white nightdress.

Plain, simple, and definitely not cute. Little frilly lace decorated the bottom part of the slip and when I asked to put on some knickers I was told I wouldn’t need them for a few days.

I was ushered into the crypt under my Daddy’s mansion where I was stripped again, forced to lie on an old tomb and was washed by flannels that were so rough I convinced myself sandpaper would have been kinder on my skin.

More women came into the room where I was poked and prodded and then forced to stand up.

They pushed me toward something that looked like a Jesus’ cross.

My back was pressed flush to the splintered wood.

Each arm was strapped to either side of the cross after my weird dress was shoved back on me.

My arms were pulled harshly on either side and restrained by cold metal.

The women started singing this haunting lullaby, their voices layering together and sending shivers across my already sensitive skin.

Of course, I asked questions, but they never responded.

If it were not for their haunting singing, I would think they could not talk.

Drip, drip, drip.

Daddy came down after the women stopped singing; Dr. Fisher followed him. When I asked Daddy what was happening, he told me I would have to be patient and soon it would all be clear. So that is what I have been doing.

Being patient.

I have a bag of medicine attached to my hand and sometimes they let me eat, but other than that I have been tied up here for days. The only company I have is the blood dripping into the bowl beneath my open legs. Sometimes the noise drives me insane. Sometimes, it brings me comfort.

Drip, drip, drip.

Most of the time I am simply confused though.

A person wearing a black mask with red eyes and devil horns comes to visit every so often.

I would like to say it is for company, but it is usually just to empty the bowl that slowly fills with blood.

I hate it. I feel dirty and cold and tired and I just want Felix to come back and tell me everything will be okay.

I’m also really scared and I don’t know what I did to anger God.

I have been a good girl. I work hard at school, do my chores, and I never really argue with Daddy.

But still, He smites me. Still, He gives me this disease that is causing my belly to hurt and Daddy to tie me up in this room of death.

I just want it all to be over. I keep praying though, keep hoping that this will end soon.

Drip, drip, drip.

“Fae, sweetheart, are you ready?” My Daddy’s voice booms across the echoing chamber with clear concise pronunciation. But that’s Daddy for you, clear and concise. His Queen’s English is no different than anything else about him.

I nod shakily, focusing on my breathing, hoping this is the end of whatever the heck is going on here.

“Words, dear. Do not anger your Father before we have even started,” Dr. Fisher sneers.

“Y-yes, Daddy,” I mumble, clearing my throat. I take a deep breath and look up at my Daddy walking down the aisle. “Yes, Daddy. I’m ready.”

“Good girl. Repeat after me… I bleed for you.” Daddy stops in front of my hanging body, looking down at the bowl of blood on the floor with a strange hunger in his eyes.

“I bleed for you,” I respond.

Daddy smiles.

“You bleed for me,” he echoes with a slight nod and a clap of his hands. “Let’s begin, shall we?”