"Very well, My Lady."
Thalia tended her and Alliana tried to relax in the steaming fragrant water. She hadn’t had someone wash her, since she was a wee toddler. The bath did manage to soothe her muscles after a while, and when she allowed her mind to dwell on memories of her family, she could retreat just a little, and find a bit of solace in them, instead of them pushing her to the brink of tears. She closed her eyes, drifting to a world where none of the horrors of her real life could find her. Thalia seemed to sense her need for silence as she worked, and spoke not a word. Perhaps it was going to be possible for them to forge a bond of some sort.
Alliana lingered in her bath as long as possible, postponing the inevitable. She kept her eyes closed as Thalia washed her hair and soaped her shoulders, trying to make believe she was the adored lady of the castle instead of Mikhal the Merciless’s broodmare. It was her only defense. Mikhal now possessed her mind, body, and soul. She would have to make the best of the times she was allowed to be away from him, and slip into her dream world to preserve her sanity.
"I must get dressed Thalia. Lord Arcos will return soon and I have no desire to anger him by not being prepared." Her apprehension did not go unnoticed by her maid. Thalia’s heart softened a bit. Perhaps Alliana was not as repulsive as she had believed. She and the other servants had been quick to label her a dirty, Gypsy whore, but her fearful words spoke the truth. The new Lady had no desire to be here at all.
"Yes, Mistress." Thalia held out a large towel and turned her back, knowing Alliana would be embarrassed by her nakedness. She quickly fetched a dressing gown and held it out too, keeping her eyes averted.
"Thank you Thalia. Please plait my hair in a simple braid and wind it upon my head. Allow a few curls to spill down near each temple."
When she was through, Thalia helped Alliana dress. Her gown was stunning. An absolutely beautiful creation of white silk with tiny seed pearls embroidered all over it. The square neckline dipped low, and the waist cinched tight, pushing her breasts up so the creamy tops were visible, and emphasizing her slim waist. The sleeves were belled and the points of them fell to the floor in a spill of lace, but again, there was no pleasure in wearing the gown. It wasn’t in her tradition and she suspected the original owner of the garment might have been killed or enslaved. The thought made her ill, and she immediately felt sullied when she put it on.
Mikhal suddenly swept into the room without knocking pulling her back to the stark reality of her situation. Alliana cringed at the sight of her tormenter, and then steeled herself to face him again.
"Ah my Dear, you are looking lovely. I’m so pleased that you’re ready to go. Such a good girl, did you enjoy your bath, Pet?" His sickly sweet tone and loving endearments made a sharp retort rise to her tongue but Alliana wisely stayed silent, her wedding night was drawing much to near.
Chapter Seven
Mikhal took Alliana's hand and led her to the center of the room. He then took a step back, studying her with a critical eye, circling her, surveying his soon to be bride, from head to toe. When he returned to face her, his eyes were full of approval and lit with the fire of desire.
"Just perfect, my Pet. You’re so very innocent and lovely, most delicious. It makes the waiting that much harder, knowing the taking will be so exquisite." Alliana shivered at his words, dreading what she knew was to come. His expression certainly spoke of his wish to devour her. The intense hunger in his eyes frightened her more than anything he’d done to her so far. Her maman had said to do all he commanded her to do, but how? How was she to lie with this evil beast and allow him to do the things Natalya's husband did to her?
Mikhal turned to the minion behind him, and the lesser vampire held out a long white veil. It was made of the most delicate of lace, a silken web of woven strands that was almost transparent. Mikhal took it, moving in close, too close, and placed it gently over Alliana's head. "My perfect virgin bride, so pure yet so ripe. Are you ready my Dear?"
Alliana held her chin high, determined not to give into the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She gave a slight nod, and then remembered herself when a spark of annoyance flared in Mikhal's eyes. "Yes, My Lord."
"Very good, Kitten. Let's be off. The time has come to make you mine." He led her from the chamber and down many a long hall, twisting here and there for what seemed like ages, until Alliana became hopelessly lost. The castle was immense. They came to a long hallway that held portraits on each side, great Ladies in beautiful finery and Lords in all their splendor. Mikhal paused in front of one of the paintings, slipping an arm around her waist. The man in the picture had the same high cheekbones, honeyed blonde curls, and dark blue eyes that he did.
"This is Lord Arcos the Third. He was my father." Alliana noticed the plaque under the picture held the dates of 1346 to 1390. The dates meant her soon to be husband, had to be well over a hundred years old.
"He was a good man, my father, and life was pleasant here. He ruled the serfs with a firm but fair hand expected hard work but nothing more, but all that changed one night. A group of finely dressed men, their leader claiming to be a Count from Moldova, came seeking hospitality on their journey through our land. My father, always the gracious host, opened his home. They were few in number and not seen as a threat.”
Mikhal’s eyes turned dark at the memory of that fateful night, and his voice thickened with emotion. “They dined with us, posing as men, and then silently went about their slaughter once everyone had retired. My father was killed outright, as were most of the servants. Marishka and I were turned and made into minions to serve our new Master. He found it humorous that the future heir of Arcos Castle was made into the lowest of minions. My life was transformed into a living hell, and poor Marishka became a whore for the entire group.
My sweet sister had been chaste and very pious before they came, and it practically killed her, the way that bastard took her before all of them like a trophy. He tied her to the banquet table in the great hall and tore away her innocence along with her sanity and soul, then called his minions up one by one to use her in the most vile ways imaginable. They shackled me to a chair and forced me to witness it all as the crescendo of their laughter increased with each of her pitiful screams. The seed of hatred that had been planted inside me at the killing of my father bloomed larger with every degrading act committed against my beloved Marishka.
Things went on like this for a year, and my hatred for my Master grew with every hideous deed. When we are turned, we are created with a reverence for our maker, but my overwhelming rage increased tenfold every night for the abuse my sister suffered. One night I decided I'd had enough. He'd been especially brutal, and she’d literally crawled to me, a bloody and broken mess, begging me to end her existence. Instead, I chose to end his.”
Mikhal paused, one fist clenched at his side, nostrils flaring as he fought for composure. Alliana shivered at the cold hatred that poured from him as he told his tale. She could feel the hand holding her elbow quiver with rage. No wonder Marishka was insane. Alliana was surprised to find a hint of pity inside her heart for the despicable creature, then quickly realized her sympathy lay with the girl she had been, not the mad monster who had been tormenting her as of late. Mikhal continued, drawing Alliana attention back to his chilling story.
“I crept to his chambers at dawn, staying in the darkness of the shadowed hallways, and drove a stake in his black heart without an ounce of regret. Once the deed was done, I fought his army like a madman and bested them all, regaining my rightful place as the heir to Castle Arcos. Unfortunately, all the riches and power in the world cannot change some things. Marishka was left a pitiful shell of herself after her ordeal, and I know she’ll never be the same. It has taken years of pampering and tenderness to pull my sweet sister from her terrorized state, and even now she isn’t quite right, but she is happy, and that’s all that matters to me. I do love her dearly."
"But how...? Alliana’s question trailed off, doubting it would be well
received; not wanting to anger him when their wedding night drew so near, knowing just the memories of that time caused intense rage to stir in his heart.
“You may ask me anything, Sweet. We are to be wed.”
His sickly sweet endearment made her nauseous, but she didn’t let on. There were other more important things on her mind right now. “How can you be the way you are? If you and Marishka suffered so at the hands of another, why do you inflict such misery on those around you now? Where is your compassion?"
"My compassion disappeared along with my soul. It's who I am, Pigeon. I'm a vampire, my love. I have no soul, no heart, no feelings. My Master did as he pleased because that was in his nature, and because he could. Now I do the same. We feed on blood, but we also feed on misery. You shall be spared all that of course, as long as you behave. Come now. They are waiting. Enough of the past, our future awaits my love."
His answer chilled Alliana to her very core. There would be no kernel of tenderness to cultivate inside this monster that was to be her husband. While it was true, she could gain his respect if she were careful and smart; love would never be an issue between them. She would be a fool to believe otherwise. Any tenderness he chose to show her would simply be for his own benefit; be it to soothe his little broodmare, protect his son while he was inside her, or to make her more compliant in the bedroom. Her very existence was at his whim. His heart was a cold dead rock in his chest that would never beat or be filled with compassion and love. Alliana knew she’d have to remember that always. The wolf may change his ways to make her more agreeable, but if she valued her life, she would always mistrust his motives.
Mikhal led her down another hall and to a large chapel. It was a cavernous room with alfresco paintings on the ceiling of angels and the heavens above. Gilded stained glass windows on both sides graced the walls. The tiny-jeweled pieces of glass reflected the firelight from the sconces that adorned the walls every few feet creating a stunning effect. The air was heavily scented with incense, and votive candles graced the altar, as did a huge candelabrum and a silver chalice cup.
Ornately carved pews lined each side of the aisle. These were filled to capacity with an odd assortment of beings. Some dressed in rags, some in finery, all turned when they heard Mikhal’s footsteps ring out in the vestibule at the back of the chapel.
They stared at Alliana relentlessly as she stood with Mikhal the Merciless, some with interest, quite a few with open hostility, some with outright fear, and others with loathing. She looked back at them all, and held her chin high. While it was true she was being forced to wed the king of evil, Alliana intended to stand tall before those who witnessed the despicable act never the less.
“These, My Lady, are your new subjects; vampires on the right. “Mikhal waved a hand towards the finely dressed crowd. “Serfs from my village on the left.” He gestured towards those dressed shabbily. They quickly turned away, not wanting to attract his attention, horrified by the fact that they had been chosen to witness this unholy act, wondering if they would truly escape with their lives. “I had my men round them up just for this occasion. What do you think?”
Alliana didn’t reply. She felt awful for the poor peasants. They had to be terrified, no wonder, some were staring at her, as if she were the devil too. They had no way of knowing who or what she was.
“I see you’re not in the mood for conversation. I’ll let it pass for now, but be warned, my love, you shall respond properly to the priest or there will be very dire consequences, do you understand?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“Very good Alliana. Let’s not speak of unpleasantries now. It’s our wedding night, my love.” He pulled her close to him, pausing a moment to place a chaste kiss upon her forehead, then set her from him. “Ah here is Marishka. We can begin.”
Alliana turned, and her eyes made contact with Marishka’s. Both women glared at each other with undisguised hatred. Mikhal, seeing this, took Alliana by the chin and turned her to face him, his eyes narrowing, a feral growl of warning issuing forth. He knew Marishka was already in a state about this whole affair, and he didn’t need Alliana upsetting her further.
“There shall be none of that Alliana. I shall have to reprimand you Pet once we return to my bedchamber. I was hoping to avoid such unpleasantness tonight, but I’ll not have you thinking you can display such insolence towards my sister.”
Marishka flashed her a triumphant look that said she was indeed in for some dreadful times, then turned back to Mikhal putting on an outrageous pout and batting her eyes. “Thank you Mikhal. She really has been most trying. My poor nerves have been frayed ever since you brought her home. I don’t like her.”
“Now Sweet. I explained why I must keep her. Be a good girl and try to endure. You may pick a present from the humans at the banquet tomorrow night. As for Alliana, I’ll take care of her bad behavior. There shall be no more insolence, I promise.”
“Will you tell me how you punish her? All the details?” Marishka’s eyes glittered as she imagined all the different scenarios that would bring Alliana to her knees. She rubbed her hands gleefully, happy once more, now that she had the upper hand and Mikhal was showing the upstart Gypsy bitch who was the head Mistress in this castle.
The priest interrupted any further conversation; he approached cautiously, revolted to even be standing in this ungodly place, but too terrified to have refused the summons that had come the night before. No one said no to Mikhal the Merciless, and lived.
“Are you ready, Lord Arcos?”
“Alliana, this is the priest. Are you ready to answer his questions, Dear?” There was an edge to his voice that told her in no uncertain terms that she had certainly better be, and that they also better be the replies he wished to hear, if she wanted to live through the night. Alliana glanced from Mikhal to the priest who would perform the ceremony and noticed the poor man was trembling. She quickly looked back at her soon to be husband, and nodded. It was best to get this over with so the poor priest could escape from the depths of hell.
“I didn’t hear you Pet. You’ll have to speak louder than that.”
“I’m ready, My Lord.”
“Very good, Alliana. I shall await you at the altar, my love.” His voice had gone tender again, just as it had been last night, as if the talk of punishments had never occurred. The knowledge that he could go from being so cold hearted, to pretending to be a tender, caring individual, in the blink of an eye, disturbed her greatly. Alliana knew she would always have to keep her guard up. She didn’t doubt for a moment that he had every intention of living up to his promise to Marishka.
The priest and Mikhal walked under the portico that ran along each side of the chapel below the windows, and went to stand before the altar. Marishka began her descent down the aisle, and Alliana quickly followed before her panic overcame her. As she walked, she forced the knowledge of her impending punishment from her mind. It was no use dwelling on it now, and if truth be told, she wouldn’t have handled Marishka any differently. It mattered not to her if she upset the crazy woman. If she were to hold her own among this lot from hell, Alliana knew she had to stand strong, even if it meant facing the wrath of her new husband.
She moved with slow measured steps and held her head high, ignoring the whispers and stares that came from all around her as she made her way to the ceremony that would seal her fate. She had no flowers to hold, nothing to occupy her hands, so she let them fall to her sides, forcing her fingers to lay flat, and not curl into the tight fists that would betray her true feelings. As she reached the front of the chapel, Mikhal took her arm and smiled the most charming of smiles. His blue eyes lighting with pleasure and desire. It was clear he was very pleased with his little Gypsy bride and the event that was about to take place.
As the priest began to speak the words that would bind her to the evil beast before her, Alliana could feel her knees weaken and her body tremble, but she refused to give in to the terror that was surging up inside her. This was, as i
t had to be. There was no way out. Her only safety lay in her inner strength to endure and fight back. She took deep calming breaths and fought the panic swimming inside her head as the man droned on, not hearing a word he said, and knowing the meaning of his litany without having to listen.
She glanced about her, eyes darting back and forth like a trapped animal, her heart beginning to pound too fast, and felt Mikhal reach out and take her hands. He squeezed them in a warning grip, bringing her back to the task before her. It was then that she realized Mikhal the Merciless was about to claim her as his wife.
“Lord Arcos, you may state your intentions before these witnesses.”
Mikhal released one of Alliana’s hands, and tilted her chin so she was looking into his eyes through the haze of her veil. He looked down at her, noting the paleness of her cheeks, and frowned, concerned. He certainly didn’t want the chit fainting during the ceremony. It would be very embarrassing. His thumb gently brushed her cheek in a reassuring manner that Alliana found quite ludicrous, and his eyes took on that deceivingly tender look once more as he tried to calm his little bride.
Alliana took a deep breath and stared at him with a hint of defiance, showing him what she thought of his gentle charade. Her look made him smirk, and raise his eyebrows questioningly. Alliana gave a small nod. She was ready. He smiled, pleased once again at her fire, and then took both of her hands once more. She may be terrified, but she was also strong. Mikhal was beginning to think he didn’t want to break her after all.
They stood and stared at each other for a moment, lost in their thoughts, then his voice rang out in the stone chapel, snapping Alliana from her almost trance like state, leaving her to wonder what it was about his eyes that left her so mesmerized?
“I, Lord Mikhal Arcos the Fifth, of Valachia, receive you as mine, so that you become my wife and I your husband. You shall be mine to have, mine to hold, mine to take, and mine to protect, for all the rest of your days.”
Beneath the Shadows of Evil... Taken Page 8