Reign of Nightmares (Blood Throne Book 1)

by Quinn Arthurs

  “I can’t believe she has a pet,” Draven added, breaking me out of my fantasy of the sexy vampire. I shifted slightly, glad that the thick comforter disguised my hard length.

  I wrinkled my nose at that, considering it. “Did anything about that seem, I don’t know, different to you?”

  “Different how?” There was a hint of something in Draven’s voice that I couldn’t identify. He was hiding something from me, though I wasn’t sure what. He’d open up in time, I had no doubt. We always did.

  “She let him speak freely. She seemed almost pleased when he did.” I searched for the words I wanted as I stared up at the ceiling. “Almost like she was proud of him for telling you off.”

  Draven scoffed. “What was with that, anyhow? He seems to hate us nearly as much as her. I caught the looks he was sending her way. I’d expected a pet to be worshipful, or at least cowed, but there were times when he looked at her like he was planning the best way to murder her in her sleep.”

  I’d wondered if he’d caught Sebastian looking at her that way, and more than that I had wondered how Elsie had missed it despite how deep in her studies she was. Was it possible she had seen it and simply didn’t care? Though, if that was true, I couldn’t understand why. “He was able to read and write,” I replied, trying to work the problem through in my mind. “That seems to be of use to someone like her. As for his hatred of witches?” I hummed softly as I considered it. “I didn’t sense any power from him, not even enough to be considered of the lowest class.”

  “Maybe he’s resentful the gene never appeared for him?” Draven’s suggestion was hesitant, and I could only shrug.

  “Or he’s had bad dealings with our kind before. You know she wasn’t off base about the kinds of witches there are. Many simply don’t care about anything besides themselves.” I knew that was a tender spot for Draven, but it wouldn’t help to let him wallow in a false belief. “Hell, we’ve done plenty of things that the others of the coven would say was purely selfish.”

  “It’s not selfish,” Draven replied stubbornly as he settled himself deeper into the bed. “It’s for the good of the coven. For the good of our kind. For…” He trailed off, and I knew it wasn’t because he was asleep. For Bran, I filled in, swallowing hard so the words didn’t pass my lips.

  “True as that may be, it also means we’ve put other business aside. We’ve risked ourselves and others trying to get answers,” I reminded him, unwilling to let him paint our quest as something pure and selfless. The lives we had lost in this pursuit were marked on my soul, and they wouldn’t be the only ones by the time we were done. It didn’t matter that lives might be saved if we succeeded. The blood in the cabinet behind me was proof enough of that. We were blood witches, not white witches—a species that was basically extinct at this point. Pain and blood were a necessity for the work we did, and nothing would erase that. Our magic was twisted. Dark. Seductive. Even thinking it had the lightning rippling under my skin, making me shiver at the pleasure it left in its wake. White magic never felt like this, never made me feel this alive. “When we go back tomorrow, you’ll need to watch yourself. Especially if we run into anyone besides Elsie. She seems pretty easygoing for a vampire, and I think after biting you once or twice she’ll get used to you. The others, not so much.”

  “Yeah.” The response was grudging, but I could hear the honesty in it. “I’ll try not to antagonize her, but I can’t promise anything. It’s hard with them and you know it.” Unfortunately, I did. We had every reason to turn our noses up at the vampires, to hold onto the grudges that fueled us.

  “Try,” I growled at him. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but you have to try.” For me. For our coven. For our purpose. I didn’t even need to say the words for him to understand.

  “She’s just so obnoxious. I want to see what she looks like when she bleeds.” A yawn broke through his words and I chuckled.

  “I’m assuming she thinks the same of you. Sleep, brother. Tomorrow will be a long day of research.” He let out a noise of agreement before murmuring the spell that would seal his wound and clean the blood from the room. I settled deeper into my bed, closing my eyes as I attempted to sleep. Elsie danced through my mind and I sighed, tugging the blankets up higher. Well, if I had to dream about a vampire, at least it would be one like her.

  Chapter Four

  Sebastian

  I took the tight, spiraling stone stairs from the servants’ quarters two at a time as I responded to Elsie’s bell. As soon as the other servants had seen my claiming band, word had spread that if her bell sounded, any and all servants would notify me so I could respond. I had barely slept through the night, though I couldn’t blame the chill of my cell-like room or the thin slab of foam that acted as my mattress. Thoughts of Elsie—my mistress—had dominated my mind, refusing to give me the peace of sleep.

  I had known before I arrived at the citadel that becoming a pet, or even a meal, was a possibility, but I had managed to avoid either fate in the last three years of my service. Part of that was surely luck, but another part had been my own caution. Most of the servants were divided into two categories—worshippers or cowering mice—and those were the responses that drew attention from the vampires. Most pet owners craved those reactions, whether the unflagging loyalty and flattery of a worshipper or the pain and fear that radiated from the flinching staff members. My refusal to be either drew more attention from the other servants than it did from the vampires who roamed around us. To them, I was simply something to be forgotten until I was needed or until they were hungry, and I was very good at slipping away from the hungry ones.

  For most vampires, they began to show signs of their hunger before they lashed out, and as long as I paid attention, constantly on guard for any of the signs, I was able to depart unnoticed, while a more foolish servant ended up becoming the meal. But Elsie, she had seen me. Those blue eyes of hers had seen straight through me, through the shields of professionalism I hid behind. Yet instead of trying to make me a meal, she had claimed me as her own. Not just because of my blood, but because she had wanted me for my mind, and I wasn’t sure how to reconcile that.

  I had expected her to drain me immediately, or at least to order me into bed with her. If I was being honest with myself, I wouldn’t have been opposed to sharing her bed. She had the kind of curves that could make a man forget his own name, and her thick, blonde curls would be perfect for a man to dig his hands into as he devoured those lush lips. My body didn’t care that she was a vampire, that she had declared ownership of me. If anything, my body was thrilled with that idea if the steel rod I was sporting was any indication. I should be horrified—I was horrified—at being owned, but I was intrigued as well. Intrigued by this vampire who didn’t act like a vampire, who looked more like one of my mother’s antique porcelain dolls than the monster that was hiding inside her.

  I knocked lightly on the door to her room, waiting for her to call out before I pushed the door open. Surprise had me blinking, though I swallowed the confused sound before it slipped past my lips. I had expected to see her still in bed, waiting for me to dress her the way most of the pampered leeches here behaved. Instead, she was already garbed, the sapphire silk wrap dress draping across her curves in a way that drew the eyes while exposing nothing. Her white-blonde curls tumbled over her shoulder, and her brow was scrunched in concentration as she made a note on the paper in front of her before she turned to look at me.

  “Ah, Sebastian. Good. Come in.” She waved me forward as the door clicked quietly closed behind me.

  “You called for me, mistress?” I forced the words from my lips as I bowed my head, looking up at her through my lashes. There was no question as to why she called me—even from here I could see the blatant hunger on her face, the way her pupils had dilated when I stepped into the room, and the pallor of her cheeks where they had been rosy before I left her last night.

  I turned my attention to the books, resisting the urge to fidget as she stu
died me. Part of me had hoped that after she had questioned me yesterday she truly would use me for research purposes. Reading and writing weren’t opportunities I frequently had, and those occasions had dwindled even further since my time here in the citadel. The books were my drug of choice, an addiction that, if left unchecked, was something as compulsive as the witches’ use of magic. Books were a refuge, an unchecked paradise in this war-stricken world. It didn’t matter the subject—the simple ability to lose myself in the written world, to soak up facts or, far more rarely, to inject myself into the life of someone else, someone whose worries were solvable within the sweetly scented pages—I would read it all.

  “You came quickly. A good skill.” I could hear the dark amusement in her tone and fought the urge to bite my tongue. I had learned quickly that habit drew more vampires to me than it shooed away. In this world, you swallowed your words, you didn’t bite them off, unless you were willing to have someone take a bite of you in return.

  “As my mistress demands,” I murmured, bowing slightly. Her laugh was light, but there was a strain in her voice that was unmistakable.

  “I’m hungry, Sebastian. I had intended to go over your research with you, to give you an idea of what I’m looking for.” She strode closer, the sapphire silk pooling against the floor around her feet like water. “However, I think my mind will be much clearer if I feed first.”

  I wanted to snarl at her, to shove her away, but I knew it would do no good. In her service it was less likely she would drain me to the point of death, but it wasn’t unheard of, especially if I managed to piss her off. It didn’t stop my desire to rail at my place in this world. I wasn’t a damn food source. I was a human. A person. Did my desires even matter to her? My thoughts? She had said I could speak my mind here. Was it worth the risk though? Before the thought had even finished forming, my traitorous mouth was opening.

  “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your meal. There will be plenty of blood for you at the family breakfast—” I paused for a fraction of a second before belatedly adding, “Mistress.” It didn’t cancel out the blasphemy of my statement, but it did add a modicum of respect.

  Apparently my tongue didn’t care about the risk, and maybe it was better this way. If she was going to kill me after my outburst, at least I would finally have peace. It was better than becoming a leech, that was for sure. Better than being forced to spend every day waiting on her hand and foot, waiting for her to tire of me and turn me over to be tortured and drained. Hell, for all I knew she was one of the fangs who enjoyed torture, who would turn her teeth, her claws, and more onto me in order to enjoy the sound of my screams. Yes, this was better, and there was no way I was going to die cowering. I lifted my chin, my eyes catching her sapphire ones as I waited for her judgment.

  The corners of her eyes crinkled as her plush lips tilted upwards into a smile. “There now. Speaking your mind wasn’t so hard, was it?” Her tone was ominously teasing, her laugh husky as she watched me. “Unfortunately, I told you yesterday I would feed from you this morning. I do keep my word. You have my protections, but that comes with responsibilities of its own. I will feed from you, Sebastian.” As if she could see into my soul, she cocked her head, searching my body, my face, reading everything inside of me in a way that made me want to lash out. She might own my blood, but not my soul. “I’m not one to torture my pets, Sebastian.” Her words were soft, as if she sought to calm and reassure me. “I don’t see a point in it. It makes a bond more difficult, which increases the time I have to spend gentling you, and it means I have to go longer between feedings while I wait for you to heal and your blood to replenish.”

  “You can just let me work,” I reasoned, trying again. I wasn’t going to beg, but maybe, with logic, she would see what she was doing was wrong. Was corrupted. Was sexy. I could have slapped myself at that mental interjection, and I swallowed hard against the words, drawing her eyes to my throat.

  “No, Sebastian. You can’t. This first full feeding will bind us with more than that bracelet you wear.” Her tongue darted out, licking across her lips in a slow, sensual motion.

  “You’ll take my free will,” I snarled.

  “Ah, but were you ever free?” She smirked at me even as I wanted to shake her. “It won’t remove your will, Sebastian. It will simply bind you to me, prevent you from spilling my secrets.” Prevent me from killing her. Though the words didn’t pass her lips, I was sure that would be part of it. What animal wanted something that would hunt it in its sleep? I’d heard of the binding magic, though part of me had assumed it to be false speculation, similar to the idea that vampires could control you with their minds. They didn’t need to do that, not when they controlled so well via fear.

  “I won’t force you into my bed, but I will eat. It won’t hurt. You won’t even notice the lack of blood as I have no intentions to drain you. You are useful to me, and I would rather eat here than with my family.” Her nose wrinkled as she considered her words. “Though I’m sure I’ll still have to make appearances at family dinners to keep the peace.”

  “So just eat later. Fasting is good for you.” Oh my God, could I be any more petulant? A peal of laughter ripped from her, making those curls dance around her.

  “No, it’s really not.” Her smile dropped as she inclined her head. “Chair or bed, your choice. I will warn you that the sensations can be a bit… extreme. Since you are opposed to sharing my bed, a chair may be a less sensual option.”

  “Chair it is then,” I growled, striding forward and dropping into the same chair I’d used the night before.

  “Of course,” she acquiesced, following behind me. I thrust my wrist toward her, focusing my eyes on the books in front of me as my lip curled in disgust. “Oh no, my pet,” she purred, ignoring my proffered arm. “What I took last night was just a sip. Feeding from you will require your neck. It is by far the easiest location.” She moved behind me, her dress making a soft noise at it trailed across the floor. My shoulders tightened as I felt the heat of her body behind me, a heat that was far more subtle than with my human brethren or even the witches I’d been around. Was that because she was hungry, or did she always run cooler than I did? Was the binding magic triggered by the medallion on my wrist, or did she have to initiate it herself? The urge to ask these questions, to ask all of the questions about vampires that had burned inside of me for years, railed inside me. I was a scholar, and going without answers when they were right at my fingertips simply felt wrong. Her fingers trailed lightly up and down the side of my neck, raising goosebumps in their wake. I gritted my teeth against the pleasure that her touch was causing, fighting it back. I couldn’t give in to a vampire, no matter how good her touch felt. Remember, you’re just food to her. It’s going to hurt like hell when she bites you. She’s just trying to get under your defenses so you don’t fight as hard.

  “Relax,” she murmured, her breath hot against my ear.

  “When you’re the one about to be gnawed on, then you can tell me to relax,” I snapped at her, even as she continued to stroke my neck and across my shoulders, her slender fingers ducking underneath the collar of my shirt.

  Her fingers were toying with the edge of my hair when she chuckled. “You really think I haven’t been bitten before, pet?” I froze in place as I considered her question. Honestly, that thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. Vampires didn’t feed from each other, at least not that I knew of. Added to that, she was the heir to the vampiric throne—even if she could provide blood to others, why would she when she outranked almost all of them? She pressed her fingers into the knots of my neck, working them loose as I considered the bomb she’d just dropped on me. “Vampires bite for many reasons, Sebastian. We bite our lovers to increase each other’s pleasure to a level that you can’t even begin to understand. We bite when we fight, and I’m trained to defend myself and those I care for.”

  “You’re a princess,” I pointed out, my muscles relaxing under her massage. “What would you know of fighting, le
t alone protecting anyone else.”

  “I’m not some human princess in one of your fairy-tale books.” Her lips gently grazed the side of my neck, though she didn’t bite.

  I hissed in a breath. “You know human fairy tales?”

  I could feel the air shift as she shrugged. “I know books. I’m not someone looking for a prince. I’m not fragile or broken or in need of rescue. I don’t have the gentleness that calls animals to me and prevents me from harming anyone, even for my own safety. I fight my own battles with teeth and nails, with my wit and my position, the same way all vampire females do. The same way we’re trained to from the time we’re born. If you think that as a princess I can’t, or won’t, kill anyone who wants to harm me, who wants to harm the people I love, then you’re dangerously underestimating me.

  “Now, you have a choice. If you don’t want me to numb this, if you want it to hurt—or at least don’t want it to feel pleasurable—then that’s your call to make. I will drink from you, no matter your decision, but I won’t make the choice for you.” What did I want? Did I want it to hurt, to remind me that she was evil and corrupted? Or did I want to see what she meant when she promised that her bite could bring pleasure I hadn’t dreamt of? Pleasure, my body screamed the word at me, already decided in what it wanted, my morals unimportant. “Choose, my pet. I won’t wait forever.”

  “Pleasure.” The gravelly word was pulled from my lips, and I shivered when her mouth pressed to the tender skin at the side of my throat. I wanted to see if she was lying to me, trying to give me a false sense of hope. That was the only reason I asked for pleasure… Maybe if I said it enough, I could convince myself it was true. “But nothing more than the bite.” There was no way it could feel as good as she promised, but it was better to keep that boundary firmly in place.