“My body isn’t my soul. Take what you want, but you won’t break me,” I all but growl back. His hand tightens in my hair, and his grin never leaves his lips as he straightens up.
“This is going to hurt.”
That’s all the warning the monster gives me before something burning hot slams into my neck from behind me. I can’t hold back the cry that leaves my lips, and even though whatever it was that burnt me is gone quickly, the pain never leaves. My legs feel wobbly as Maddox lets me go and dark spots fill my vision. I stumble back, seeing Cross walking away with a hot poker with a burning hot circular end. Maddox lifts his hand and bites into his wrist before stretching his blood-soaked wrist out to me.
“Drink to heal.”
“I want the pain,” I state, straightening my back, feeling drops of my blood dripping down my neck. “I don’t want your blood.”
For the first time, the prince’s smile drops, and fury fills his expression. He walks past me, stopping purposely when he gets to my side. “You will regret this, Ria.”
I hold my head high as he walks out, and I suck in a deep breath, feeling nothing but the pain from my neck as Cross comes over. He hands me a tea towel with ice in it, and I reluctantly take it from him.
“Is this your way of saying sorry?” I ask, flinching as I place the towel onto the burn. I grit my teeth, refusing to let out a sound.
Cross meets my eyes. “He is the wolf, and I am the slave. Don’t forget who leads the misery, Riona. It will never be me.”
Oddly, I believe he isn’t just the slave he pretends to be.
“Pancakes and waffles. Perfect healing food,” Hector calls out, like nothing happened at all, his attitude still jolly. This castle is full of lies, brooding hot monsters, and trapped souls. And I’m not sure which is worse.
Chapter Twelve
“Ah, you’re awake,” Marcella, or I think that’s what her name is, comments as she freely walks into my room. Hello, boundaries? I turn away from the mirror and my stare down with the mark on my neck, wishing it would vanish and take me with it. The mark is a dagger with wings behind it, and birds making the circle around. I try to remember Sophie’s advice, the one where she told me to see everything in a different light because it might not be that bad. I don’t know how being marked by a lunatic vampire can be seen in a different light.
I doubt even Soph could make a good thing out of this entire mess.
But she would be proud of me for not being scared. I’m sure many people who were stolen must freak out, they must have mental breakdowns over all of this. But I refuse to. Glancing at Marcella, she stares at me and taps her foot on the ground. I guess there is no privacy in this castle, not now that I’m owned by him. Marcella is in a pink sari today that suits her complexion, and her arms are crossed tightly against her big chest. “The prince wishes to see you. Alone. Go down the stairs and through the doors under them.”
“Thanks,” I dryly reply, standing up and taking a deep breath.
Another day, another nightmare, I’m sure.
Marcella walks out the door, leaving it open, and I follow not long after, heading down the corridor. So far I’ve learnt nothing about this place, choosing to stay in my room with only Hector’s pancakes for company all yesterday and last night. I was surprised no one came and forced me out, or the prince didn’t come and literally eat me when it hit midnight.
No Prince Charming came to save me, that’s for sure. It’s time I stop believing in fairy tales and learn how to save myself. The spiralling castle is rather beautiful, and although it’s full of monsters, I still want to learn everything about it. I want to learn about the supernatural race of vampires. That nerdy side of me that loved Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Disney movies is geeking out about this place.
Heading down the giant staircase, I spend my time looking at the paintings one by one. For a while, they are all of men I don’t know, each of them with a crown on their heads and wearing old-style clothing. The final painting at the end of the corridor is of a man who looks like Reign and Maddox. The man has long hair that falls to his chest in wisps, and he has a silver crown on his head with three glowing circle orbs held in the silver metal. He is handsome, clearly a vamp, and I wonder if this is Maddox and Reign’s father. The rest of the paintings show a history that I could never read in the books at my high school, full of ancient battles and wondrous creatures that fill the skies. I wonder how old this island is and where exactly the vampires came from, when all this history happened. The only answers are going to come from the man who apparently owns me. The prince. The monster inside the castle I’m now locked in.
My footsteps are loud, and they echo throughout the castle with every step. There is a faint smell of cooking and some kind of cleaner like bleach, and I shiver from the knowledge that they are most likely cleaning up human blood. Crossing my arms, I walk towards the double doors that I have not gone through before. The doors are solid wood, and they are heavy as I push them open. Eventually, I make a big enough gap for me to slide through and come into what must be a sitting room, the door slamming shut behind me and echoing through the room.
Floor-to-ceiling dark wood bookcases line the one wall, stuffed with various coloured books. There is a large fireplace in the middle of them with a huge mantel made of pure black stone. That royal crest which is on my neck is also in the middle of the mantel. My eyes eat up the room, taking in all of the intricate features and sconces on the wall. The floor is made of tiles, deep blue and black tiles that spread all around the room in rows of circles, and some of the circles are cracked, almost like the broken parts were done on purpose when the floor was made.
Four dark brown leather sofas and many matching chairs are in the centre of the room, and the other side is simply three narrow windows that look at nothing more than the side of the mountain. I walk through the room to a slightly open door where warm light from a fire glows through the gap. Despite looking welcome and warm, I still tense when I slip through the gap and come to a halt.
There, in a chair that could easily be a throne, is the Mad Prince. A woman is on his lap, her head bent at an odd angle, the prince’s teeth buried in her neck. I can’t see his face, his dark hair is like a blanket covering him, the tips of his hair brushing against the woman’s pale chest. Stuck in a trance, I freeze as I watch her chest heave as she breathes in and out. Slowly she starts to go still, and there is nothing I can do as Maddox kills her.
“Good morning!” Maddox proclaims, letting the black-haired woman fall from his lap onto the wooden floor, the thud of her body making me jump. Sickness fills my chest, and I clamp a hand over my mouth to stop the rising sick. Maddox stalks towards me the whole time, and I get the instinctive feeling to run. To run and never stop, even if I fall off this goddamn mountain.
“Why did you kill her?” I demand, dropping my hand from my mouth and holding it in a tight fist at my side. “You bastard! Why?!”
Maddox, the silent monster, simply wipes blood from the corner of his lips and tilts his head to the side. Almost looking confused.
“Was she a friend of yours?” he asks. I cautiously watch him, unsure of his next move.
“No, I did not know her, but that is hardly the point.”