“Alliana.” She tried to pull away and refused to look at him, hating him, but Mikhal wouldn’t allow it, and wouldn’t cave into her feelings. “Alliana. Enid is going to make sure nothing has happened to our son. If you can’t lay still and do as you’re told then I shall have to force you.”
His suggestion made her begin to struggle, and Mikhal realized that in her mind, Alliana probably thought he meant he would force her legs apart and hold her that way. That wasn’t it at all. All that was needed was for him to bite her gently on the neck where his mark was, and growl his displeasure at her behavior. If he did that, she would have to obey. It was ingrained in her as his mate. He knew it, but she didn’t. Either action though was bound to terrify and repulse her.
Alliana was still too confused to understand exactly where she was and whom the man looming over her was. She knew she despised his touch though, knew she hated him, even though she didn’t recognize him for the monster he was. She didn’t know she lay in the castle of Mikhal the Merciless, and that he was her husband, or that he had raped her just hours before, but none of that mattered, her inner soul told her that he was a man to be feared, and therefore, she had to fight him.
Alliana didn’t understand why she was lying in bed with all these people prodding and poking her, or why they kept arguing. All she knew was that her head hurt. She was dizzy and she was cold and just the thought of the man who was holding her face being near her, made her sick. She wouldn’t obey him. It wasn’t in her nature.
“No.”
“Yes, Alliana. Submit or be forced.”
“Stop. Leave me.”
“Look at me, Alliana. I am your husband, and you will obey me. Look into my eyes or I will have to do something you don’t want me to do.”
Instead she closed hers, refusing even that simple order. His voice was familiar, and what he said rang true, but she couldn’t face those things right now. It was easier to try to fight it.
Mikhal felt her inner turmoil and her resistance, and again he was filled with hurt and anger. Why was she so very stubborn? Why?” A small voice inside him wanted to rear itself up and rattle off a list of all the horrid things he had done to her, but Mikhal resisted. Those types of thoughts weren’t allowed.
“Give her something. Put her to sleep and then do it.”
Enid hesitated; she didn’t want things to be easy for the Gypsy wench. The girl had slapped her. It also wasn’t as safe to give her a tonic with that lump on her skull. “You would let her disobey?”
“I said give her a potion. Make her sleep!”
The two faced off like predators circling a single morsel for a moment, and then Enid’s anger softened. Her friend had been through a lot this night, and more struggles were on the horizon. Why add to his pain? She had vowed to stand at his side, and he had proven himself strong for the most part. So what if he went a bit easy on the girl for now. He’d dealt with the others who had betrayed him.
“Very well, but just a bit. We have to be able to awaken her as she rests.” Mikhal nodded his thanks as Enid fetched the bottle of milk of poppy and spooned some between Alliana’s lips. The potion took only a few minutes to take effect in Alliana’s weakened state, and soon her body relaxed despite her fears. After she calmed, Enid finished examining her for any signs that she’d miscarried. Finding none, she lowered Alliana’s nightgown, and pulled the furs up to her chin.
Mikhal had stood a silent sentry as Enid searched for signs that his son had been washed away by the icy waters of the stream, fear gripping his heart. As she turned to him, he searched her face, his own set in an expression of apprehension.
“Does he live?”
“There is no sign that he doesn’t. The water may have washed away any sign of a miscarriage, but she never held her stomach as if she were cramping. I think he is safe, Mikhal.”
“Thank you, Enid.”
“You were lucky this time. It is in my opinion that you should make certain the idiot girl knows this type of thing won’t be allowed. I know you feel her pain my friend, but she put your son in danger. Treat her well if you must, but at least lock her in this room or shackle her to the bed.”
Again Mikhal felt the spark of rage towards his old friend instead of towards the woman who had indeed put the child she carried in jeopardy. “I shall deal with my wife, Enid. What needs to be done for her now?”
“Let me ring for the servant girl so I may explain to her.”
“No, that won’t be necessary. I shall be tending her myself.”
Enid gave just a slight shake of her head at this proclamation. It was what she had expected really. “She is to be woken every two hours. Make sure she looks at you. It is best if you can get her to talk. She seemed confused tonight. If she won’t wake, send for me at once. I’ll leave an elixir of white willow bark for the pain in her head.”
“Is it safe for her to have some now?”
At this Enid scowled. The little wench deserved a bit of pain for slapping her. Such disrespect should never be tolerated.
“Enid...” Mikhal’s voice took on a warning tone, but the witch hag chose to ignore it.
“No. Wait until you wake her the first time. I just gave her the other.” It was in part the truth, so she had no feelings of guilt for lying to Mikhal; therefore, he was unaware of her deception.
“Very well. Wake her every two hours and give her the tonic. Anything else?”
“No, I shall be back after I get some sleep. It’s been a long night.”
“Yes, indeed it has. I wish for you to stop and see Marishka before you come here. I don’t want her neglected. Even with all she has done, she is my sister.”
“Aye, and I love her as well. She shall be fine in all of this. Don’t count her as one of your worries.”
“Very good.”
Enid turned to go, shuffling out on weary feet, head hung low. It had indeed been a long night, and her bed would be a welcoming haven, but before she could reach the door, Mikhal called out to her. She stopped, glancing back, noting that he had already pulled a chair to the bedside.
“Thank you, Enid. I imagine I will be in need of friends in the days to come. I am glad I can count you as one.”
“Why Mikhal. I believe that’s the sweetest thing I ever heard you say to me.” With a cackle of laughter, Enid turned back around and shut the door behind her, leaving a smiling Mikhal behind. He’d felt the happiness of her laughter bubble through him, followed by her love, and it felt good. Enid was old, that was true, but she was a good friend to have at his side, that he knew for certain.
After she was gone and the echo of her footsteps no longer sounded in the hallway, Mikhal turned his gaze back to Alliana. She was resting peacefully now, the drug having swept her away into a dreamland that was far sweeter than any reality that she had experienced as of late.
The fact that this vibrant woman continued to be reduced to a fragile porcelain doll within the bounds of their marriage wasn’t lost on him. When he had taken her, she’d be alive, radiating fire and fury, only to be crushed by his cruelty and the complications of her pregnancy. Like the strong willed woman she was; Alliana had fought back through the adversity and once again become the golden beauty he’d married, only to have her spirit battered down once more. Now she was a mere ghost of herself, having barely survived a mad flight into the winters cold, because of her revulsion of him.
Pictures flashed through his mind as he gazed at her. Alliana running in the orchard; Alliana furious as he had bought her from her family and pushed her grandmother away with the toe of his boot. Alliana frightened but blooming with passion nonetheless under his skilled touch in the marriage bed on the night of their wedding, then Alliana pale and sick, full of terror, vomiting at his feet in the banquet hall.
She had come back from it, and had regained a part of her spirit, become cheeky once more during his daily visits, looking radiant. But now, now he had crushed her like the petals of a flower beneath his boot heel. He’d destro
yed her spirit, hurt her so deeply that she had run across the icy snow and bathed in water that must have sent a thousand needles of pain shooting through her when she’d entered the stream, just to be rid of his touch.
All those things and more she had been, all those things and more he had done to her, and now, he was destined to feel every ounce of her hatred for as long as she was bound to his side. Would she get over this? Could she? He’d hurt her deeply. He’d trampled her spirit and spit upon her soul.
Mikhal reached under the furs and took her hand, thankful that it was once more warm, and Alliana whimpered. It was a small sound, barely perceptible, but the meaning behind it cut through him. He knew. Oh yes, he knew. Before when she’d become agitated in her sleep at his nearness he’d blamed her, but now, how could he? He felt what she felt, her shame, her rage, her repugnance. How could he blame her and become angry when he was faced with all those things?
Mikhal pulled her hand from under the furs and pressed it to his lips. Murmuring against her skin. “It’s okay, Pigeon. Hush now. I know. I won’t hurt you. I can’t let you go, but I’ll do my best not to hurt you anymore.”
She shook her head almost imperceptibly at his statement.
“Yes, Alliana. You’re my mate. You’ll stay by my side but you won’t be harmed. I swear on all I have.” Mikhal knew he was making a promise he might not be able to keep. He knew his demon would rise up time and again and demand that its female obey, but for now, in the quiet of the room lit only by the hearth, he made his promise as he looked down upon the woman he had come to care for with his entire being, yet had almost crushed the life out of.
Chapter Twenty-two
Time went by. How much of it he didn’t know, as Mikhal kept up his lonely vigil throughout the night. He’d risen twice to put more logs on the fire, preferring to do the task himself rather than be disturbed by an intrusive servant, and had just settled comfortably by Alliana’s side once more. Nothing much mattered in his world but the woman lying in the bed before him. Not his clan, not Marishka, not the curse, not his demon, not now, not when she was in danger. He was conscious of when it was time to wake his sleeping wife, but that was all. Other than that, the hours seemed to become jumbled in the silent dark room, and time ceased to matter.
He woke Alliana at the prescribed intervals, just as Enid had said, speaking gently to rouse her from her deep, drug induced sleep, each time having to endure her hatred, and fight back the demon inside who raged at her every feeling of revulsion for him.
He tried to get her to focus, to speak to him, but in this she refused. He wasn’t sure if it were because she was indeed still somewhat confused by her ordeal and the blow to her head, or if her stubborn will was asserting itself in the only way it could. When he asked her if she knew him, Alliana defied him time and again by pressing her lips together in a thin tight line and remaining mute. Then, she would turn her head, as if to indicate that she had no idea that he was beside her or what he wanted.
This was a deception Mikhal saw through however, because he could feel the waves of disgust coming from her soul. They were like arrows aimed towards his heart, and they pierced just as fiercely as any lance ever could. Through it all he fought off the pain of her rejection, but the poison of her hatred ate at him relentlessly. If she were indeed unaware of who he was, then she would feel only fear, not the hatred and disgust that were clearly evident.
No, she may be confused about what had exactly transpired to deliver her to her sick bed, but she knew where she was and whom it was who kept her there, and all of the feelings of old had come back with a vengeance. They were still there and very real, and this time Mikhal was forced to share every one of them.
Though his demon protested that her refusal of him was a show of insolence, and his animal was angered by the fact that its mate wasn’t accepting him for whom he was, his man refused to succumb to the anger. She’d been through so very much, and he had to give her a chance to heal. It wouldn’t do to terrify her and chastise her as she drifted in and out of sleep. Why punish her for running away when her own foolish act could do far more than he ever could? That her recklessness might cost her toes or even her feet would be punishment enough. The rest of her seemed to be in fair condition, and the fact that her folly might make her pay the ultimate price would gnaw at her over the next few weeks as they waited and watched the delicate skin of her toes.
All this went through Mikhal’s head over and over again as he tended his wife, but as was his nature, he rationalized things as always, never looking too closely at his own feelings. The fact that she might indeed lose her feet made the man in him ill, so his demon retaliated by saying it served her right. The man cried out at the pain she endured because he had forced himself on her, and his demon fought back by reminding him that she was his wife. He owned her and could take her whenever he pleased, that was the marital law, be he man or demon.
He tried over and over to blame the things he felt inside his heart upon the curse, but in truth, he couldn’t tell where the empathic feelings from the spell ended and those of Mikhal the man began. In the end the cause and origin didn’t matter, whatever the reason, the knowledge of those true, real emotions welling in his own breast angered him because he feared they weren’t entirely summoned by a spell at all. They came from his heart, and vampires, especially Master Vampires, simply didn’t feel.
Mikhal didn’t quite understand why, but slowly, as he kept his somber vigil, he allowed himself to acknowledge the emotions in the quiet chamber when he was alone with Alliana. Only enough to examine them more closely mind you, not to readily admit to them by any means, but he did allow them to emerge.
He would set them free for just a moment, ponder over them, pick at them, wondering, curious as to why they had such a powerful impact, then slam them back inside and harden his heart against them. Caring, tenderness, compassion, all these things he was feeling for his mate were not normal for one of his kind. A bonding was permissible, yes, to protect her and his son, but the others, absolutely not.
And love? What of the love he had felt stir in the dead part of him where his soul had once thrived? That love, the tiny thrill that had made him feel as if his heart had actually beat once more, was the most troubling emotion of all. Vampires didn’t feel love. Not really, not truly. Love made you weak, love made you vulnerable. Look where his love for Marishka had gotten him. It also didn’t last; therefore it couldn’t be real. Love was a simple flight of fancy that stirred the senses and the loins. Love was the selfishness with which Marishka cared about herself. Love was useless and senseless and only an idiot would imagine himself to feel such a thing. Yes, love was all those things, but could it be more? Could it be real, and could he have felt it for the woman lying in the bed beside him?
Mikhal moaned and put his head in his hands. All these things swirling in his mind and in his heart were too confusing. Yes he cared for the girl, but she was his mate. He was bound to protect her. They shared a blood bond and a child. While it was true he needed to treat her better, much better, it would be best for them both if he maintained his distance, wouldn’t it? Things could only get complicated if he allowed himself to feel anything for her. He was the dominant male and she was his female and she had to remember that. A woman’s duty was to obey, even if her husband was not a Master Vampire.
Look where her independence had gotten her. Her willfulness had almost gotten her killed, and it couldn’t be allowed. You couldn’t rule someone and love her at the same time could you? Kindness could be given, yes, if she did as she was told, but love? It was pure folly. And yet, as he looked at Alliana, all he could do was wish for her to open her eyes and gaze upon him with tenderness and forgiveness. It was a wish that filled him with such a sudden overwhelming need, that it nearly broke his long dead heart.
He knew it would be best if he simply listened to his demon in the matter of these feelings that were bombarding him. Let his heart stay cold and dead it said. Let the evil that
was very his very nature run rampant through his veins. Build a fortress around his suddenly pitiful heart until it was once again unfeeling. His demon scoffed at his wallowing and misery, it snarled at his weakness towards the girl, and it raged at his foolish ideas of love. His beast had its own ideas with what to do with such a wayward mate, and it was quite in keeping with how he had disciplined those around him for the past one hundred years. A Master Vampire couldn’t care for those around him, except to keep them safe and secure, and that was done simply to ensure his own existence.
Both sides of him played tug of war with his very being as Mikhal watched over Alliana. He went back and forth over the right course of action regarding his wife time and again, and finally decided that she would be tended to gently but that was all. Alliana would be made as happy as possible here in his home, but she would be expected to obey as all wives did their husbands. In turn, he would do all he could to keep her from feeling trapped and haunted by the life she could no longer have, but he wouldn’t love her, couldn’t love her. That couldn’t be allowed. Besides, she would never come to care for him anyway, so having feelings for the girl was an act of reckless abandon. Why put his newly vulnerable heart that had been dead for so long within the reach of Alliana’s emotional talons?
Thinking he had settled on a solution for the raw emotions swirling around inside him, Mikhal forced the nasty feelings that had emerged since the spell, down, deep into his core where he could handle them more easily. Alliana was sleeping deeply and her contribution to his emotional confusion was at a minimum, so it was best to cut all ties to his folly of caring and love now. There would be no more mooning over the girl. There simply couldn’t be. He had to get over it.
He vamped out, gave a quiet growl, grit his teeth and fisted his hands as his demon laughed in delight. Focus on the anger her act of flight had instilled, not the image of her in the water. Think of how you had a right to take what was yours, not the fact that you forced her and drove her to bathe in an icy stream. Mikhal closed his eyes and thought of things that had thrilled him in the past. Blood, terror, mayhem, lust, rage, all the acts he freely committed as Lord and Master. He focused on the beast inside him, and made the pitiful feelings release their hold on his heart.
Beneath the Shadows of Evil... Taken Page 29