by Izzy Shows
"Feed on me, cara mia. Take what is yours."
A soft mewling sound escaped her, and then she dove forward, fitted her lips to my neck, and drank me in. I moaned, then tipped my head back and closed my eyes as euphoria rushed through me.
The only thing better than feeding on her was having her feed on me, having her soft lips pressed to my skin, her teeth clenching the skin around the wound to push more blood out as she sucked and pulled in my life force.
Take her, claim her, make her yours.
The mantra pounded in my head, mixed with the feeling of her grinding herself down on me, a savage sensation that confirmed to me that, yes, I had to answer the call.
She's not yours. She can never be yours.
A voice of reason and clarity cut into my mind, shaking me to the core, reminding me of the truth.
Not mine. Never mine.
"Nina," I gasped, trying to fight past the haze in my mind that she had brought about with her movements.
A muffled sound that might have been a moan came from her, and still she fed, taking from me what I had taken from her.
Still, I forced myself to think, forced myself to grab the thin thread of reason I had left.
Stop this before it goes too far, before you take what she doesn't truly want to give. Before you destroy everything you've ever worked for.
Gods, no, I didn't want to--but I had to.
Clenching my teeth, I gripped her hips with an unbreakable hold and yanked her from me, deposited her on the couch beside me, and abruptly jumped to my feet. Her dress was a rumpled mess, her hair was strewn about her shoulders. Her eyes were hazy with need, and my blood was smeared on her lips.
The need to return to her struck me full-force, and it was all I could do to fight it.
You have to get out of here.
I fled.
5
Nina
My breath came in small, soft pants, as if I had run a marathon or fought a thousand foes. My mind couldn't work, consumed as it was by lust.
Abandoned. How could he leave me like this?
It was the first sensible thought that came to me, and a frustrated sound escaped my lips.
My body was on fire, aching and pulsing with need, and I could barely think. All I knew was that Gray had left me here, wanting, needing, and all I wanted to do was hunt him down and finish the job.
What's wrong with you? What in God's name are you thinking?
The voice sounded disturbingly like my abuelita, chastising me for my wanton behavior. It was exactly the wash of cold water I needed to cool me down, to bring back logical thought.
God above, I almost let him take me, like a common prostitute. What came over me?
I touched a hand to my bruised lips, and when I took it away, I saw that it was covered in blood. I looked down at myself, at the disheveled state I was in, and shame consumed me.
I had almost done an unthinkable thing: shared myself with a vampire, a monster, a murderer. He was the enemy I had sworn to hunt and kill for the rest of my life, and I had almost given myself to him without any thought for my own survival, for my honor, my morals. All I had cared about was that desperate need to have him inside me, filling me at the same time he drank from me.
God, I was the lowest of the low.
I stood up and fixed my dress, then hurried into the bathroom, where I caught sight of myself in the mirror and cringed. Blood smeared my lips and neck, and a trail of it led down between my breasts. I looked every bit the vampire's whore, and I hated myself.
Quickly, I cleaned myself up as well as I could, and found a first aid kit that I then used to patch up my neck. It would have to do for now, though it would loudly proclaim to anyone who looked that the thralling had happened--that Grayson had taken and marked me as his.
But that's what they want. They want everyone to know you're his thrall.
His thrall...
And that’s what I was now, right?
Then why didn’t I feel any different, although there was a feeling that something was very wrong. I searched inside myself, determined to find whatever it was that had set off the warning bells inside my mind. It was like rifling through a filing cabinet, but there was one folder jutting out, as if it hadn’t been put back properly.
I plucked at the memory, pulled it forward, and examined it.
Recollection came back in a rush as soon as I touched the memory. Recollection of something pushing against my mental wards—wards I had created to protect my mind from those who might invade, though I’d never thought they’d be put to use—and then being thrust back. Chased away, never to return.
It was clear that I would have, should have, been able to lower my wards and allow this presence in, if I had only been aware of myself enough to do so, if I had known what it was.
Are you that thick? You can't imagine what might have been pushing at your mind through all that?
Comprehension dawned on me.
"Oh, God above, no."
It was obvious now. The more I thought about it, the more I examined the memory, the more I could see the signature of that which had come at me.
Blood magic.
Thrall magic.
Of course it was blood magic. It all made sense now. The exchange of blood was what had caused it, and that in itself was blood magic; it had been our minds reaching for one another, to join in the way our blood had joined. To take hold.
To form the thrall bond.
And I had fought it off subconsciously. I hadn't allowed it to reach my mind, much less take root there.
"Grayson's never going to believe it was an accident," I muttered as I paced back and forth in the bathroom. "He's going to think I did it on purpose. He's going to kill me."
How long would it take him to figure it out? Probably, once he cooled down, he would realize it hadn't worked, and he'd report me to the Council. I'd be dragged back to the dungeon, assuming there wasn't someone on the Council reckless enough to kill me and risk my death curse.
Also assuming there wasn't some lowly vampire they didn't care about that they could force to do the deed for them.
I felt sick to my stomach at the realization that my death curse might not be enough to protect me. God, I was in for so much trouble.
I had to find him and tell him immediately. If the news came from me, maybe his reaction wouldn't be so bad; maybe he would believe it was an accident and just try again.
Fat chance of that. He hates you. He's going to think you're trying to seduce him for a repeat performance, just like he probably thinks you seduced him just now. He wouldn't have behaved that way if you hadn't encouraged him like a slut.
I winced.
Ugh. What was I going to do?
There's no reason he has to know, another voice whispered in my mind. You can project your feelings when you need to, make him think it worked. And all the while, you have the freedom you wanted the whole time.
My eyes widened at the realization.
Could I do that? Could I lie to Grayson like that, again?
He already hated me for my prior betrayal, and there was no chance in hell of him forgiving me for it. It wasn't like I could do any more damage. What was done was done. I could only live with the repercussions now.
I could do this. I could make him think I was well and properly enthralled, and that meant I had the freedom to leave whenever this imploded. I wasn't foolish enough to think my position here was in any way secure--as soon as the vampires had whatever information they wanted me to find, they were going to get rid of me.
They didn't need a blood mage sticking around, running free. They’d throw me back in the dungeon if they didn't find a way to kill me. No, I needed an escape route, and finding Grayson and making him enthrall me again would only ensure that I couldn't ever escape if I wanted to. It would mean I was bound to him forever, unless I killed him.
Can't do that. I could never do that.
No matter what he might think of me, no matter how much he might
hate me, I knew I could never kill him. I didn't want to examine the why of it--I should be more than willing to see the King of vampires dead. It would bring about anarchy like we'd never seen before, all the vampires scrambling and squabbling to be the one in control, and we'd be able to pick them off one by one.
All the monsters would be gone from the world sooner or later, and we could finally come out of the shadows and lead real lives again.
Yes, I should want him dead most of all. After all, I hated vampires with every bone in my body. I'd been raised to see them as the dark creatures they were, not the benevolent overlords the humans preferred to think of them as. I knew what they really were--mindless creatures who reveled in the kill, who lusted for blood.
But I couldn't wish Gray dead. I couldn't bring myself to want him gone from the world, and the very idea of it made my heart ache.
What's wrong with me? What in God's name has made me so weak?
I didn't know, and I found that I didn't really want to know. I didn't want to examine the feelings.
Maybe I was afraid to.
With a grimace, I made myself leave the bathroom, because these thoughts were doing me no good. Maybe I could find some sort of distraction elsewhere. But as soon as I set foot in the antechamber, my eyes went immediately to the couch.
And all I could smell was the scent of our lust, of what had almost happened. I remembered the feel of his lips on my skin, the addictive sensation of him pulling my life source from me, the pleasure I had taken in it.
What kind of person likes to be fed on?
A whore. You're a whore and nothing more, and now we know the truth.
I couldn't seem to stop dumping on myself, no matter how hard I tried, and I was getting a little sick of my own pity party. I had to get out of here, somehow; I had to go do something else until this room stopped reminding me of Gray and what had almost happened between us.
I looked at the door that led to the rest of the castle, and a sense of unease filled me.
I was afraid to leave the room, to go out there and...
And what? What would I do?
Maybe go to the library. I'd been there a time or two before, and I'd found a good book to distract myself with on occasion. I could do that again.
But that would require walking by a lot of people, a lot of vampires and thralls. What if I walked by the soldiers who knew what I was? Would they be so respectful if I didn't have a guard with me? Unlikely.
Was I even allowed out of my room? The Council hadn't said anything about me being confined, but they also hadn't said I could roam the castle at will. What if I got in trouble? I really didn't need any more trouble added to my plate on top of everything else that had happened.
But I couldn't stay here. I couldn't stand to be in this room another second, not with the memory of what had happened. Or hadn't happened.
Yeah, that's a good way to think of it, slut. You ground yourself on him like a common whore, begging him to feed on you. That's what happened.
I cringed at the voice in my head, needling me, chastising me in the worst possible way. Why couldn't I make it go away?
Because I'm still in here, with all the memories surrounding me. Maybe if I get out of here, it'll stop. Maybe...
But was I allowed to leave?
6
Nina
Ten minutes of indecision later, I felt I had no choice but to leave. I couldn't stay in my rooms another second with that nasty voice in my head and the couch taunting me with the memory of what had or hadn't happened.
No, I had to get out of there.
So, without another thought, I thrust myself out of the room and locked the door behind me. I didn't care where I went or who I saw; anything was better than living with that voice in my head telling me all the things I'd done wrong and calling me all sorts of names.
I just couldn't do it. I wasn't strong enough, no matter what I might like to think about myself.
That was how I found myself wandering aimlessly through the halls, not a care in my mind for the people I walked past or the curious looks they gave me. When I finally came back to myself, I saw that many of them were thralls who were staring openly at my throat--at the bandage there that practically shouted, It happened! He fed on me! I'm a thrall now, just like you!
It was instinct to feel a rush of shame over that, over the knowledge that they all knew what I had done and how I had acted. But they didn't know the whole of it, I comforted myself. They didn't know I'd thrown myself at him. They just knew that I'd been enthralled.
All they knew was that the blood had been exchanged, that he had a tie to me. They didn't know...
That you're a whore.
Damn it. There was that voice again, the same voice that had haunted me in my rooms. It seemed I couldn't escape it, no matter how hard I tried, no matter what I did.
I forced myself to ignore it, to concentrate on where I was going. I might not be able to control the voice, but I could still control myself. I walked purposefully through the halls, earning more than one startled gaze from those I passed by, until I reached the library.
The moment I stepped inside, I breathed a sigh of relief. This place was calming, something of a sanctuary for me, a place that couldn't be defiled by either my inner thoughts or the actions of others. It was the first place I had spoken to Alex--the friend of Gray's who had become something of a friend of mine as well.
I wonder how much he likes you now.
The voice struck at me, at the weak spots of my mind. I had never had friends. It hadn't exactly been something that was done in the dungeon. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Most of the blood mages were kept in crowded cells, and they all leaned on one another for strength.
I had been kept on my own, though, isolated from the others. I hadn’t known why, at first, because I had only been a young child, but the moment I'd matured, I had understood why I'd been singled out, why the guard had wanted me on my own. He'd wanted to claim me for himself, and apparently he'd been willing to wait until I had grown the proper appendages to please him, namely my breasts.
It was a fact of my life that no one wanted anything more of me than what I could offer them. The guard had wanted my body, which I'd denied him as much as I was capable of, and Conall had wanted me for the power I possessed. Gray, it seemed, had wanted me at least somewhat for my body, though he couldn't seem to make up his mind about that.
It didn't matter. What he wanted didn't matter, because I wasn't going to give him whatever he wanted. I was going to take care of myself, just as I had in the dungeon, and just as I had under Conall's command. No matter what anyone wanted, I would always be able to take care of myself.
But who are you? Outside of what others have made you, who are you? Other than a whore, of course.
That same voice haunted me, sending a trickle of fear down my spine. It shouldn't be able to get to me, not here...
I pushed it away and strode forward to the walls of bookshelves, my gaze flitting over several spines as I tried to find a book that would distract me, that would take me away from this awful world and give me something to think about.
But every book I found was boring, boring, and more boring. There was nothing much of interest, and I was growing frustrated with the very act of trying to find something. I just wanted a moment away from everything that had bothered me, a moment to myself when I could ignore everything that had happened and lose myself in some fantasy world.
Why was it that the vampires had a well-stocked library when it came to history and science, but nothing in the realm of fiction?
What do you even know about fiction? the voice sneered. You’re little more than a weapon forged in fire. You were trained by the wolves to kill. You had no moments of leisure. You don't even know what it's like to read for fun.
I winced at the thought. For some reason, I didn't like being reminded of what I was.
It...hurt.
I just wanted to forget everything right now,
every little thing that had been pushing in on me and demanding that I pay it heed. I wanted it all to go away. God, if only there was something that could make it go...
"Well, well, well, look who it is." A voice rippled over my skin from behind me, sending chills down my spine.
Vampire.
I knew what it was instinctively; I'd be a very bad hunter if I couldn't identify the species by the sound it made, but all the same, this one caused a particularly bad reaction in me. Normally, my fight-or -flight instinct leaned towards fight, but this time I wanted to get away.
To hide and curl in on myself and ignore all that had come for me.
I chose to chalk it up to being so upset by the actions I had taken with Gray. That must have discomfited me to the point that my normal reactions were irregular.
I turned around with my chin raised. "Hello."
The vampire in front of me would have been terribly attractive if there hadn’t been the air of something wrong about him. He had long, pale blond hair and striking blue eyes. His body looked as if it were made of marble, strong muscles straining against his clothes.
But instead of igniting a fire inside me, he made me want to turn and retch.
"Hello, little one," he said, his smile sickly sweet. "Whatever are you doing in here?"
"I was looking for a book to read," I said, forcing a smile to my own lips.
I knew it was better in these situations to give the man what he wanted in the way of conversation than to fight him. If I could placate him, maybe I could get out of this without a nasty confrontation. And besides, I had just earned something akin to goodwill from the Council, and I didn't want to endanger that.
But what will you do if he presses the matter? It isn't as if your perfect little vampire King will come to your rescue.
I don't need him to come to my rescue. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.
"But everyone knows that thralls don't read," he said, laughing as if I had told the best joke of the century. "Come, now--you must have some real reason to be here. Perhaps you wanted to impress your master?"