by C. A. Worley
“Open it, Davon.”
The guard on duty unlocked the latticed gate and stepped aside. The trio entered, the males keeping Eden between and slightly behind them.
“Leave us,” Luka dismissed the guard.
Davon paused at the Prince’s order.
“I’ll call for you when we’re finished,” Luka assured him.
“As you wish, Sire.” Davon bowed and left the cell.
Bianca straightened as much as she could in her restraints. Viktor had never lifted the vow he’d made to Bianca about treating his sieva with nothing but respect. It was senseless of her to think he ever would.
The female Prajna remained silent, observing her visitors warily. She picked up a slight swooshing sound and her eyes widened.
“Hello, little dove. I trust your accommodations are acceptable?”
Eden put her hand on Luka’s elbow. There was no sense in being callous, not when they needed answers.
Bianca’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“Hello, Bianca. I am Eden—"
“I know who you are,” Bianca rasped. The magic of the oath to be respectful toward Eden pressured her to check her tone.
It didn’t help that her throat was dry. She hadn’t fed enough this week and it was starting to get to her. She’d asked the guards for blood and they’d laughed at her.
“Yes. I’m sure this all is a shock. Goddess knows it was for me.”
“Why are you here?” Bianca questioned.
“We need to ask you something. This is Bran,” Eden gestured with her hand towards the wolf.
“We’ve met,” the female deadpanned.
Luka’s lips twitched. He almost liked Dungeon Bianca. She’d dropped her sex kitten disguise for once. He scratched at his palm again. The scar had been itching furiously since Eden had burned him.
“He can smell a lie, so I would appreciate your honesty,” Eden said diplomatically.
“Or what?”
“Pardon?”
“If wolf-boy smells a lie. What will you do?”
Luka opened his mouth to offer his suggestion of torture, but was cut off by Eden’s elbow to his ribs.
“You’ll find out if you are untruthful,” Eden spoke over Bran’s mumblings over being called a boy.
“Very well. What is your question?”
“Where is your father?”
“As far as I know, long dead.”
Eden looked at Bran.
“Truth,” he confirmed.
“As far as you know?” Eden thought aloud, considering her wording. She needed to reword her inquiry.
“Is there any reason you might think he is still alive, other than the fact they never found his body?”
Bianca looked away, her hesitancy speaking volumes.
Eden took a step forward and Luka did the same, blocking her with his arm. The swooshing sound was a little louder now—and it wasn’t coming from the wall.
His attention left Bianca and he peered down at Eden. His eyes widened. Holy Mother of Imperium! his brain screamed. It had been so long, he hadn’t recognized the sound for what it was.
“Eden, I think we should return to your chambers,” he suggested in a low voice.
“What? No. We’ve just arrived,” she hissed. “Bianca, answer the question.”
Bianca moistened her lips. She didn’t think Eden had it in her to have anyone tortured, but the witch would know if she lied. In turn, Viktor would know Bianca lied, and he would likely torture her himself.
There was no reason to be untruthful. Maybe if her father was still alive he could get her out of this mess.
“Just one,” Bianca finally admitted.
Luka’s chin lifted back to the white-haired vixen. His fist clenched and his claws slowly extended. Even chained against the cell wall, she was a vision.
“When Viktor sent me around Prajna, to visit the people, it was … difficult,” Bianca acknowledged. She’d pretended it was a task beneath her station, but really, it had rattled her.
“I didn’t know how to comfort them. I couldn’t help them. I did not understand why he’d subject me to their misery. I’m not exactly known for being nurturing.”
Luka snorted and Eden slapped at his arm.
“One day, in the town of Mosnik, I watched a female collapse in sobs after telling me she’d lost every child she’d ever carried. I was stunned. I quickly felt very foolish. I had thought no live births meant no one got pregnant,” Bianca shook her head sadly.
She met Luka’s hard stare, which softened at the way Bianca’s mouth turned down. He could tell she pretended to not be affected. She’d always been so cold when she wasn’t using her sexuality to get what she wanted. It was all an act. Those villagers had affected her. Greatly.
The two of them were more alike than either of them realized. Luka didn’t know what to make of his silent discovery. He only knew he wanted to unravel the tangled mess chained before him.
“I needed a break,” Bianca continued, “so I took a walk. I didn’t go far. A little ways into the woods I stopped. I picked up a faint scent. It reminded me of my father, so I tracked it.”
“Where did it lead you? To Dmitri?” Eden asked.
Bianca shook her head, her eyes filling. “No,” she whispered. “That is not what I found.”
Eden’s hand ran along her collarbone, pondering Bianca’s reaction. They knew it had been Bianca’s scent in the clearing where they found Isla.
“Where is Mosnik?” she asked.
“Close to the border of Burghard.” It was Bran who answered this time.
“What did you see, Bianca?”
The female took a shuddering breath. Her face drew tight. She’d swore she’d never speak of it, never think of it. She’d done what she could to fix it and then she’d fled.
“A demon. He was,” she swallowed, “he was with a she-wolf. He was hurting her. He was forcing her to … do things and she was begging him to stop.”
Eden’s skin felt too tight. Any female would feel disgusted and angry over witnessing what Bogdan had done. She didn’t know the details, but she didn’t need to.
Eden could guess why Bianca would have had such a visceral reaction, especially with all the unwanted attention the female vampire had been getting before she came to Castra Nocte.
The demon deserved a slow, painful death. Too bad Kellan had already killed him shortly after he’d been caught.
“I could not leave her to that. No one deserves to be violated in such ways,” Bianca hissed vehemently.
“What did you do?” Luka leaned towards her, his left hand slightly reaching to comfort her.
“I stepped out of the woods and he ran off, leaving the female. She was talking gibberish. Bloodied. Battered. Her eyes were swelling shut. Without thinking, I told her to open them and commanded her to forget. I could hear wolves coming in the distance and, since I had crossed the border out of Prajna without permission, I ported back to Mosnik.”
“You hypnotized her so she wouldn’t remember what he’d done,” Bran asserted. “That’s why Isla couldn’t remember,” he said to Eden.
“Isla?” Bianca asked. “She lived?”
“Aye.”
Bianca sagged in relief. Luka’s palm started to tingle, almost to the point of burning. It should be healing, not getting worse.
Small shards of silver light above Bianca’s head captured Eden’s attention. The female’s hands had fisted tightly earlier in her cuffs, now they were relaxing as the weight of her emotional burden started to lift.
“Luka,” Eden gasped. “Her hand.”
Luka’s breaths were shallow. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He kept his palm down, terrified of looking at it.
On unsteady legs, he approached Bianca. She shrank back as much as she could.
“Open your hand.”
“No.” Bianca made a fist.
“No?” he lowered his eyes down to hers. She was terrified.
“I’m
not going to hurt you, dove, I just want to look at your palm.”
“It’s been itching all week. Today, it started hurting.”
“You understand what it means?” he asked smoothly, keeping his voice steady.
“I—I don’t want it. I don’t know who … I won’t leave Castra Nocte. It is safe here. I won’t leave.”
Eden stepped backwards, closer to Bran. She felt like an intruder watching Bianca fall apart.
“Open your palm, Bianca.” He’d used her name, said it with his powers to sooth her.
Bianca opened her hand and Luka’s world tilted on its axis. He took several deep breaths, slowing his speeding pulse.
Her worried eyes searched his. He was speechless. He could feel the pull of the cicatrice. Luka was dumbfounded. He’d known Bianca for a long time, never had he felt anything for her aside from physical attraction.
Theron was right. The leader had found his sieva, and so now would others. It had taken weeks, but that was probably because Eden was now—
His hand started to reach for Bianca’s and he flung it back down to his side. There would be no soul-bonding in the dungeon.
“Luka?” Eden spoke. “Is it …?
“Incredibly coincidental? I’d say yes,” a male’s voice came from behind Eden.
She started to spin away but quick as a flash he had her pulled to his body, his claws embedded deeply in the skin over her heart. Eden held herself very still.
Luka had jumped in front of Bianca to shield her from the threat and Bran was moving slowly along the edge of the cell, unwilling to pounce and risk harm to Eden.
Luka’s angry eyes darted to Bran. “I thought you knew his scent, wolf.”
“He’s not giving off any scent,” Bran complained, raking his eyes over the disheveled male holding Eden captive.
Dmitri slanted his head, grinning. A lock of dark hair fell over one manic eye. His dirty hands flexed and more blood pulled around the punctures in Eden’s chest. Bran wanted to lunge but the vampire’s claws were too close to her heart.
“Ah, yes. Caught on to that, did you? Of course you did, you are wolf, your noses are virtually faultless,” Dmitri praised Bran, as if he’d done something remarkable.
“Agatha and I had been experimenting with some medicines. Smart little wolf found something to mask any scent.”
“Father?” Bianca’s strangled voice creaked.
“Hello, darling. Sorry, this visit must be short. But do not fret, your sieva here will make sure Viktor does not harm you.”
“I haven’t seen you in a century and that’s the first thing you choose to say to me?” she seethed.
Dmitri’s chin jutted with indignation. “I set you up to be a queen. From what I’ve seen, you still might be, if Luka takes the throne. Thanking me would be a more appropriate response, I think.”
Bianca’s face hardened. Her father had always been doting and kind. His soft tone always reserved for only her and her mother. This was not the male she remembered. This was a male coming unhinged.
“What makes you think I would take the throne?” Luka asked, wanting Dmitri’s attention off of Bianca.
“You’re the only heir. Once Viktor is dead, it goes to you.”
Luka’s eyes darted to Eden’s stomach. Dmitri noticed and chuckled, digging his claws in deeper.
“This heir doesn’t have long to live.”
“Wh-what heir?” Eden stuttered over the pain burning above her breast.
Dmitri’s free hand went to her lower abdomen, his fingers pressing firmly into her belly. “The one growing inside your cursed womb, witch.”
Her logic wanted to protest, thinking it was too soon. Sadly, she didn’t know anything about the gestation period of vampire offspring. Luka’s nervous eyes bore into hers, and the truth of Dmitri’s words rang through her ears.
“Father, no,” Bianca pleaded. Dmitri didn’t acknowledge her.
Eden’s entire body locked up. Instinctually, her soul tugged at the bond she had with Viktor. She fought to tamp it down. Dmitri had his talons precariously close to her heart and the others were too close to her child.
Her child.
The last thing she needed was for Viktor to port nearby and startle Dmitri, causing him to flinch or tear her flesh to shreds.
She needed to think. Eden could burn him, but it wouldn’t be fast enough to kill him. Neither would stopping his pulse. If it was only her life at stake, she wouldn’t hesitate to do something.
Bran crouched ever so slowing, like an animal preparing to attack. Eden subtly shook her head. She’d have to free herself, or get Dmitri distracted.
“Ah, ah, wolf,” Dmitri reprimanded. “I wouldn’t if I was you.”
“What are you waiting for, Dmitri?” Eden goaded.
“Your mate. Why don’t you give a tug on that bond so we can get on with things?”
Eden’s heart hardened at his words. It helped ignite her anger, drowning out her fear. She was furious on Viktor’s behalf, irate one of the few people he’d ever considered a friend would harm him. He might end her life, but she’d never allow him to end Viktor’s.
“No,” she replied resolutely.
“You’re not really in a position to refuse me. Alert your mate. Now,” he growled.
“I said no,” she repeated.
“I will kill you right here, female! Call for him!” Dmitri’s voice boomed with his frustration.
His irritation had gotten the better of him. Eden could faintly here the guards moving down the corridor. She was running out of time.
“Damnit,” Dmitri cursed.
His spiteful gleam fell one last time on Luka.
“Tell your brother he can see his sieva again. In the Netherworld.”
Compression closed in on Eden as Dmitri ported them away.
Chapter 29
Viktor landed on the balcony outside his chambers. Yuri arrived a second later. They’d left Kellan and his wolves to continue searching after deciding to return to Castra Nocte and confront Bianca. First, he needed to check on Eden, if only to see her for a moment.
Entering through the glass doors, he immediately knew no one was inside. His senses heightened and he felt for the soul-bond, making sure his mate was alright.
He could feel traces of worry. He’d felt hints of her distress since Luka had left her on that tiny island, but nothing close to the agony which had seared through the bond when she’d found out about the betrothal.
“She’s not here,” Viktor informed Yuri who was entering the bed chamber. His teeth gnashed, uneasy Luka had allowed her to vacate the safety of these quarters.
“We can assume she’s with Luka. Did you tell Eden not to leave?”
Viktor’s lungs constricted, imagining Eden attempting to leave him. He didn’t really believe she’d try, not after she’d agreed to be here when he returned.
Luka wouldn’t have taken her far, even if she’d asked. No, she was still in Castra Nocte.
He should have asked her to stay in his chambers and set guards on the balcony, as well as outside the door instead of only Luka and Bran. Sadly, Luka and Bran had been the only two he trusted right now with his mate. Who knew what tricks Dmitri was using, possibly compromising Viktor’s men.
Viktor couldn’t imagine Dmitri himself coming for Eden in their chambers, not with the threat he’d made to unwelcomed guests so long ago. He hoped his own arrogance hadn’t clouded his judgement.
“She agreed to be here when I returned,” Viktor answered.
Yuri looked around the room, checking for evidence of a struggle. His gaze fell upon the empty bottle of whiskey and two tumblers.
“There’s no sign of foul play,” he commented.
“No, I’m guessing Luka escorted her somewhere inside the castle.”
Yuri picked up the empty bottle and held it aloft. Viktor’s brows knitted together. Eden wouldn’t have finished the bottle. She could barely finish a glass of wine.
“Let us ponder fo
r a moment, where your sieva would go, hours after discovering what you had been hiding, and a short time after consuming at least a dram of hard liquor.”
“Aside from back to her father?” Viktor grunted.
“Aside from that, yes.”
Viktor’s face tilted up towards the ceiling, thinking. She had no need to go anywhere. Food and drink had been brought up. She had company. Granted, it was Luka, but she didn’t seem to mind him.
What would spur Eden to leave the safety of her chambers? After imbibing? After setting herself afire in a moment of tremendous emotional upheaval?
He considered what he would do if in her shoes.
“She wouldn’t,” Viktor groaned.
“Oh, I think she did.”
“Luka wouldn’t allow it.”
“Have you met your brother? He’d pay good coin to watch your mate confront your ex-lover.”
Viktor pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Viktor, we’re going to question Bianca anyway. Let us go to the dungeon first and perhaps we’ll come across your mate. You can send guards to look for them if they’re not there—or go yourself if you feel the need.”
“You’re right.”
“I know.”
“You sound like Luka.”
“And you, Sire, are cruel to say such things aloud.”
“That I am, Yuri. That I am.”
Viktor’s voice was too melancholy for Yuri’s liking. He patted his friend on the back.
“Come, my King. Let me help you salvage … things.”
Viktor snorted. He needed all the help he could get.
They ported to the large door leading into the dungeon. It was standing wide open. Guards were running about while Luka barked orders from down the corridor. Viktor’s hackles immediately rose and his claws extended.
“Don’t jump to conclusions, Viktor,” Yuri said, crouched and alert, coming up beside him.
Viktor held still, analyzing the movements. The guards were running off to do Luka’s bidding, not engaged in a fight.
“The threat isn’t here,” he calculated.
Sure of his assessment, he took off towards his brother. Luka was standing at the opening of Bianca’s cell.