Chapter 5 #2
I rose, stepping out of the water. A towel sat on a nearby stool, and I grabbed it to dry myself off.
A key twisting in the lock announced someone’s presence, and I pressed the towel to my chest as the door swung wide and Erlinen entered. She briefly eyed me and nodded in annoyed satisfaction before heading over to the armoire and throwing it open.
She sifted through the gowns.
“Did this room used to belong to someone?”
Erlinen glanced at me, startled. “Why do you ask?”
“Why does Lord Vaelor have so many dresses on hand?”
“All you need to know is that this room is designed for dignitaries and other visitors. He keeps extra clothes on hand as a courtesy.”
I struggled to wrap my mind around being rich enough to simply have dresses of various sizes readily available for anyone who might stop by.
Even when living in the human kingdom, I only had three everyday dresses and a nicer one I’d wear for special occasions—and it wasn’t nearly as nice as any of the attire Erlinen was sorting through.
She pulled out a gown and held it up with a critical eye. “This will do.”
The satin red fabric with black lace was nothing like I had ever seen.
“I will help you put it on. No protesting.” She stared at me with sternness in her expression.
It didn’t seem worth it to fight with her over the gown, or to risk making Lord Vaelor angrier, so I nodded .
First, she wrapped my injured hand, and I flinched as she tied off the cloth, muttering about proper wound care.
Next, she had me slip into petticoats, then lowered the gown over my head.
It fell about me in long layers, the sleeves no more than a strip of cloth coming off the shoulder.
It came much lower than any dress I had ever worn, and she tugged it tight against my breasts.
The black fabric lining my bosom gathered together with a rose-shaped brooch.
“Walk over to the mirror.” Erlinen pointed to the full-length looking-glass next to the armoire. I approached and gazed upon the woman reflected there. She had my damp hair, pale skin, and the same wary, green eyes, but the rest of me looked completely unfamiliar.
Erlinen pulled my wet locks into a loose twist and pinned them that way.
If this was some sort of morbid ploy of Lord Vaelor’s, he was a master of manipulation.
I couldn’t help but think of the vindictive gleam in his stare as he watched me lift the lid from my dinner, revealing a soup so similar I’d thought it was the one I’d used to poison him.
I wouldn’t allow him to fool me into letting my guard down.
“We do not have footwear in your size, so I recommend wearing your own,” Erlinen said.
She picked up my shoes and sniffed, holding them to the side of her as she walked them over to me to put on. “You are to join Lord Vaelor for breakfast.”
Erlinen marched toward the door. I steeled myself as I slipped my feet into my shoes, appreciating their familiar comfort, and followed her out into the hallway.
No matter how hungry I was, I wouldn’t eat.
Perhaps that was his plan. To tempt me with poisoned food every day, every meal until I gave in or else died of starvation. A slow, torturous death.
Gods, I was so fucked.
The folds of my dress whispered against the floor as I walked.
I carefully lifted them as I descended the enormous staircase, my feet echoing on the cold stone.
As we neared the bottom of the stairs, the shattering of glass brought us both to a standstill.
Erlinen swept to the side, then peered down a corridor.
“They’ve broken a window,” she said, clicking her tongue in her beak with indignation.
My throat tightened. “Are they coming in?”
She shook her head. “They can throw stones, but they still can’t come inside,” she hissed. “As if I don’t have enough to do.” She turned to face me and pointed toward the hall that led to the dining room. “You know where to go, yes?”
I nodded.
“Wait outside and do not enter until Lord Vaelor invites you. Understand?”
“I understand.”
With a sigh, she hurried off to clean the mess.
I glanced over to the hall that led to the dining room.
Then I cast my eyes at the front door. Apparently, spirits remained outside, searching for entrance.
Leaving would mean certain, painful death.
I looked back toward the dining room. As terrifying as Lord Vaelor was, he hadn’t killed me last night.
I’d be better off playing his mind games. At least for now.
I walked down the hall. As I approached, I noticed that someone had left the dining room doors slightly ajar, and voices reached me.
“The Final Proving will begin tomorrow,” Throk’s gravelly voice rumbled. “There are two parts to it. First, you get ten days to locate a suitable body with which to bond and to report back to our army. Fail, and your spirit ends in agonizing nothingness.”
I peeked through the cracked doorway and saw Throk, leader of the undead army, in the spot that Lord Vaelor had sat the previous night.
Lord Vaelor was standing at his side, his wings spanned wider than last evening, a frown of annoyance on his face. “I am aware,” Lord Vaelor replied.
Two Spiritu Malignos soldiers stood in the room.
Their bodies were gargoyle—their skin rough and gray, with large horns and great spanning wings.
They wore a red patch on their shoulder that was similar in style to the gold one Throk wore.
In the short time I’d been with the Spiritu Malignos army, I’d learned rank was marked by color.
Gold and red were colors none others wore. These two demons must be high ranking.
Throk nodded, still speaking with Vaelor.
“You must kill the body you wish to inhabit in order to bond with it. And of course, you’ll want one that is powerful, because once you’ve bonded with it and returned, the second part of the Final Proving begins—should you choose to take part.
It is a deadly tournament—a competition for leadership over the new troops.
It would place you fourth in command over the entire army.
Only those already high ranking or with position, such as yourself, can put forth your name to participate.
Though I warn you, the tournament can be quite brutal. Only one survives.”
“I’ll be prepared.”
Throk leaned forward in his seat. “Lastly, because you have granted us permission to be on your land so that we are not seen as an invading army but as guests, I’ll grant you one more piece of advice.”
Lord Vaelor crossed his arms over his broad chest. “What is that?”
I froze at a shift in the room. A spirit, concealed near the wall until this point, emerged.
Shit. One of them was inside the manor. And it wasn’t any spirit.
Dread caused goosebumps to rise on my flesh.
It was Raxus, the demon who had broken into my cabin and separated me and my brother on that first terrifying night.
I recoiled from the entrance and swerved to the side, removing him from my view. If he saw me, he wouldn’t hold back. I held my breath as I crept the way I had come, praying my presence had gone unnoticed.
“You may have realized by this time that your ability to interact on the physical plane is limited,” Throk said. “While you are incapable of reanimating a dead body, it is possible to possess a live one. Shall I give you a demonstration?”
My chest tightened. I’d heard enough. I turned, prepared to hurry to my room.
“There is no need. I understand the concept,” Lord Vaelor responded, his voice clipped.
“Oh, but I insist.” Throk’s delivery was sleek, with a rough edge of cruelty to it. “Raxus, go and possess the human in the hall.”
“Gladly.”
Shit, no. I raised my skirt and ran.
Raxus coalesced into existence in front of me. I ground to a halt, tripping over myself as I tried to reverse course.
“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” he snarled.
And he moved, his body pushing into mine, fading past my skin—entering me. My muscles locked, and I fell sideways, striking the wall before collapsing to the floor.