7. Stellan
STELLAN
The red line between us went dark.
Bryony stayed beside Edith’s case with the small key in one hand and the torch in the other. She’d agreed to open one cuff. Agreement didn’t make walking towards a hungry vampire any easier.
I lowered my gaze to the floor and kept my right arm extended. The stored blood had quietened the worst of the hunger, but I could still hear every beat of her heart.
Her boots crossed the place where the red line had been.
The court let her pass.
“If you move suddenly, I’m using the torch,” she said.
“Aim for my nose. It’ll hurt my pride as well.”
“You’re assuming there’s enough pride left to damage.”
“A little survived the chains.”
She stopped at the edge of the dais and studied the restraints again.
The key shook once between her fingers. It wasn’t fear alone. The bond carried the same heat that had passed between us while I drank. Her body knew exactly what mine wanted, and being close made hiding it impossible.
Bryony crouched without stepping between my knees. Sensible. Her coat brushed the stone, and her red hair fell forwards over one shoulder.
“Hand flat,” she said. “Keep it there after the cuff opens.”
I placed my palm against the floor. “I won’t move.”
She fitted the key into the iron.
The lock resisted her first turn. I felt Harrowmere testing the choice, waiting for an order or another drop of her blood. Bryony gave it neither. She tightened her grip and turned the key because she’d decided to do it.
The cuff opened.
Iron fell away from my wrist and struck the dais. Pain left so quickly that relief travelled through the bond in a hard rush.
Bryony rocked back on her heels. I kept my hand exactly where I’d put it.
A red mark remained around my wrist, but it wasn’t another restraint. The skin underneath was raw, split and stained with old blood.
She looked at it for one second too long. “Can you heal that now?”
“The flask will start it. More blood would make it faster, but faster isn’t worth bringing you closer.”
Her eyes lifted to mine. “Good answer.”
She stood and backed beyond my reach before I moved my arm. Trust warmed the bond. It was small, cautious and far more dangerous to me than hunger.
I flexed my fingers. After more than a century in fucking iron, the simple movement felt obscene.
Bryony noticed my expression. “Enjoying yourself?”
“More than a man should enjoy moving his own wrist. The other five chains should prevent me getting carried away.”
Her mouth curved before she turned towards the base of the throne. The tension eased, but neither of us mistook that for safety.
The raven seal waited near the floor, half-hidden by the carved stone. I could reach it now. The chain at my waist still held me against the dais, and my left wrist and both ankles remained fixed.
“Use the old key when I touch the raven,” I said. “If the service door opens, stay behind me until we see what’s on the other side.”
“You can’t stand in front of me from there.”
“Then stay out of the doorway. I’m working with limited options.”
She took the old key from the case and positioned herself beside the throne, close enough for our shoulders to touch if either of us leaned in.
I pressed my palm to the raven.
The tattoos across my back burned. The court recognised its king, then reached for the human authority beside me. Bryony fitted Edith’s key into a narrow slot above my hand.
“Together?” she asked. “Turn it.”
She did.
Stone shifted behind the dais. A narrow door opened on a passage lit by low red lamps. Warm air moved through it, carrying clean water, woodsmoke and the faint scent of the warded garden.
Relief hit Bryony first. It reached me through the bond before she let it show on her face.
“Does that lead upstairs?”
“Eventually. It crosses the royal rooms and joins the old service stair beyond the lower court.” I tested the chain at my waist. It stopped me before the threshold. “You can take the case and go. Keep away from the Crown, and don’t let Adrian convince you that freeing me requires wearing it.”
She looked at my free hand. “Edith said you needed that to help me leave.”
“I opened the door. You don’t owe me the rest.”
The main gate opened behind her.
Bryony spun and brought up the torch. I pushed as far forwards as the chains allowed.
Adrian Rook walked into the throne room as if he still owned it. Lenora Cade followed in black armour, her dark hair tied back and a short sword at her hip. The silver raven at her collar marked her as commander of a king’s guard that hadn’t answered to me for a very long time.
Lenora’s gaze went to the open cuff, then met mine. Surprise broke through her control before she faced Bryony.
Adrian stopped several metres from the dais. His attention settled on Edith’s case over Bryony’s arm.
“Bryony, step away from him,” he said. “Your message said you’d found someone below the house. It didn’t say you intended to release him. You don’t know what those chains were built to contain, and one free hand is enough for him to reach seals Edith spent her life protecting.”
She kept the torch aimed at his chest. “My message also said I’d call when I was ready. How did you see it?”
“Arthur contacted the estate emergency number after your second message. Every call about Harrowmere reaches me.” His voice stayed warm and reasonable.
Bryony’s eyes narrowed. “Arthur said he didn’t know you.”
“He knew my name from the estate account. Edith made sure he knew nothing else.”
“And the gate?”
“Edith made me regent of Harrowmere. Some doors still recognise that authority, although yours is already replacing it.” He glanced at me. “You’ve walked into a prison and fed the vampire inside it. Come with us before he persuades you to open the other restraints.”
Bryony didn’t move towards him. “Stellan opened a route to the upper house. I’m leaving through it with Edith’s case. No one else touches the keys or the Crown.”
Adrian’s gaze sharpened. “That passage won’t release you now that your blood has woken the court. Only the Crown can give you authority over its doors.”
I felt Bryony’s suspicion tighten. She looked at me instead of taking either man’s claim as fact.
“Will the service stair let me leave?” she asked.
“It would have before Adrian crossed the gate. His regent mark is fighting the door you opened, and Harrowmere is preparing a Claiming now. If it starts, the court will hold you here. The royal rooms will sustain you, but nothing will take you above ground until you accept or reject the Crown.”
“And wearing it frees you?”
“It gives you the power to make me kneel, fight, feed or surrender blood against my will. That isn’t freedom. It replaces these chains with your voice.”
Adrian gave a quiet sigh. “He’s leaving out why anyone believed he needed to be commanded. Stellan murdered Queen Cecily, the last woman who wore that Crown. Edith spent the rest of her life keeping him chained.”
The accusation didn’t surprise me. The way Bryony waited did.
She didn’t turn on me or rush to defend me. “Did you kill her?”
“Yes. The Crown had taken control of her and was using her body to kill everyone in the chapel. I stopped her. Adrian will turn that into a bid for power because he needs you frightened of me.”
Pain moved through the bond before I could contain it. Cecily’s death was more than a century old. My body still remembered her blood cooling over my hands.
Bryony’s face softened for a moment, but her voice remained practical. “So you did kill her, the Crown was controlling her, and he wants me to believe you murdered her for power. I’m not deciding which account is true while he’s trying to rush me. What does Adrian gain if I wear it?”
“You can order me to surrender the heartblood that carries my power. Adrian takes it, I die and he becomes Blood King.”
Adrian spread his hands. “He wants every limit to sound like slavery. The Crown exists because a Blood King’s strength needs a human check. You would use that authority once, transfer his power safely and leave Harrowmere under the protection of someone who can control himself.”
Adrian’s pleasant expression finally slipped. “A starving prisoner’s story isn’t evidence. Edith left records because she knew he’d lie to the next heir.”
Bryony touched the case at her side. “Edith left instructions telling me to trust him far enough to get out. She told me never to let you put the Crown on my head. So far, he’s followed her instructions. You’ve fucking ignored them.”
Lenora looked towards the main gate. Red light had begun closing over the arch behind her.
“The Claiming is moving,” she said. “The wards are closing the gate around us. Once the floor turns white, anyone who isn’t part of the Claiming will be expelled. If Bryony won’t take the Crown, we need to leave now.”
Adrian didn’t look at her. “The court cannot claim an heir who hasn’t touched the royal seal.”
“Her blood woke it. The rest has already started.” Lenora kept one hand near her sword, but she didn’t draw it. “Forcing her will make the ward choose sides.”
Bryony shifted towards the service door. “Excellent. It can choose after I’ve had food, a locked room and several hours to read what Edith left me.”
The case moved with her.
Adrian stepped into her path.
I pulled against the chain at my waist. The iron stopped me just short of him, but my free hand reached farther than he expected.
“Move,” I said.
He glanced at my wrist and smiled. “One hand doesn’t make you king again.”
“It’s enough to remove yours.”
Bryony’s fear reached me, followed by a quick spark of amusement she smothered almost immediately. Adrian felt neither. He remained focused on Edith’s case.
“Give me the documents,” he said. “I’ll have copies brought to your rooms after they’ve been checked for dangerous blood magic.”
“No.” Bryony kept the case tight against her side. “You can explain yourself from the other side of the gate. Right now, I’m going through that door.”
Adrian treated the answer like the start of an argument.
He caught her injured wrist.
Fury hit the bond hard enough to drown the hunger. I surged forwards, caught the front of Adrian’s coat and dragged him against the edge of the dais.
The remaining chains tore into me. My left cuff split the skin, and the waist restraint locked around my ribs.
“Get your fucking hands off her.”
The old authority in my voice struck the room. Red light flashed across the floor. Adrian’s fingers opened before he could stop them.
Bryony twisted free and drove her boot into his shin.
He stumbled. I released his coat before the chains could pull him on top of me.
Lenora moved between Adrian and Bryony. “The ward took forced contact as a challenge. Don’t touch her again.”
For the first time, anger showed plainly on Adrian’s face. “Stand aside, Captain.”
She obeyed, but slowly. The delay gave Bryony time to back around the throne with the case still secure.
Adrian followed her.
“I’m trying to keep you alive,” he said. “Stellan can feel what you feel. He can feed desire and fear through the bond until you mistake them for your own. Every minute you spend alone with him makes it harder to leave.”
Bryony’s pulse jumped. She didn’t look at me. “Can he create either feeling?”
“No,” I said. “The bond passes what already exists. It can’t create consent, and it can’t make either of us act.”
“Then my feelings remain my problem.” She stared at Adrian. “You’re the one who grabbed me.”
The oath marks around the throne flared.
Adrian saw them and lunged for the case.
Bryony turned away. His hand closed around the strap, and the force pulled her backwards. She caught herself against the throne with her bandaged palm.
The cut opened.
One drop of blood struck the raven seal.
The whole court stopped.
Then the Claiming hit.
Bryony’s pain crossed the bond first. Cold power followed it up her arm and drove through my chest. Every lamp burned white. The service passage opened wider while the main gate began to close.
Red lines raced across the floor and wrapped around Adrian’s boots.
He released the case too late.
The court threw him into the nearest pillar. Stone cracked behind his shoulder. Lenora drew her sword on instinct, then dropped it when the ward lifted her from the floor.
“Don’t fight it,” I told her. “It’ll read the blade as a threat to the heir.”
The stone swallowed the sword before it landed.
The pressure around Lenora eased enough to carry her towards the gate without crushing her. She caught the edge of the arch and looked at Bryony.
“Stay away from the Crown,” she said. “The rooms will keep you alive.”
It was the first order she’d refused for Bryony. Adrian heard it too.
He reached for Lenora, but the ward dragged him backwards. Red light burned through his sleeves as he fought to keep one hand inside the room.
“You’ve trapped yourself with a murderer,” he called. “The court won’t open again until you wear the Crown.”
Bryony stood beside the throne with blood soaking through her bandage. Fear hammered through our bond. Her voice stayed steady.
“Then you’ll have plenty of fucking time to practise accepting no.”
The gate slammed shut.
Red light sealed every gap between the bars. Beyond them, stone closed over the passage and erased Adrian from sight.
The Claiming turned on me next.
My remaining chains snapped tight. I caught myself with my free hand before the restraint at my waist could drive me face-first into the dais. New red marks burned across the iron, but the open cuff stayed on the floor.
Bryony took one step towards me, then stopped beyond reach. “Is it killing you?”
“No. It’s tightening the restraints.”
She watched the new marks until the pain eased enough for me to breathe.
I looked at the open service door. Warm light filled the passage, and water ran somewhere beyond it. Harrowmere had given Bryony somewhere to sleep, eat and lock herself away from me.
It had removed the way back upstairs.
Bryony checked the gate, the service passage and every chain still holding me. She was frightened, furious and already building a plan.
Adrian was outside.
Bryony was locked inside with me.
Harrowmere had decided which threat it preferred.