Page 16 of A Bond in Blood (Blood Bound Duet #1)

Chapter 16

M y utensils dragged across the ceramic plate, a melody alongside the others in the room. I pulled my gaze up, studying Ulrich across from me and Olen to my right.

Ulrich’s hand rose while he set his fork on his tongue. His eyes sparkled, holding my gaze. My back went stiff in my chair.

“Do I need to give you two privacy?” Olen said, with a mouth full of food.

I turned my eyes from the king, glaring at his right hand.

“Do you not have manners?”

Olen grinned and his chewed meal appeared between his lips. “Not where I’m from.”

A thump sounded under the table and Olen jumped. I twisted back to Ulrich, head cocking at his attack on Olen’s shin.

“What did he say that you didn’t want uttered?”

Ulrich sipped from his glass, a dark whiskey this evening. “Nothing that concerns a mortal woman.”

“Half-fae,” Olen grumbled.

“Thank you, Olen,” I replied, scowling at the king.

I leaned back in my chair, eyes traveling across the dining room. “May I be excused?”

Ulrich’s lips sipped from his whiskey slowly. He set the glass down, thrumming his fingers against the table top. “Such manners for a princess who grinds on a man’s legs out in the open.”

My hand tightened around the knife in my grasp. “Respect, your grace. It’s all I am asking for.”

“I’m not bound by your requests.”

“Technically…” Olen cut in.

“Quiet,” Ulrich snapped.

Olen went silent.

My hand held the knife firmly. “Sexual frustration does you no good, your grace.”

Olen choked beside me, and I glanced over, finding him wiping whiskey from his mouth.

Ulrich’s laugh echoed throughout the space. “I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

I sat straighter, choosing my next words for our battle.

“If I’m taking up space in your bed,” I began, “just tell me. I can disappear for a few hours to allow you to find your release.”

Olen coughed again. “Fuck the Gods.”

“Silence,” Ulrich growled, his eyes pulled from my gaze to scowl at his right hand. Then the green emeralds were back to my blue.

“I’m not the one publicly humping legs. Do I need to leave you alone in the room for a few hours, princess? ”

“Maybe,” I taunted. “Not sure who I would invite though.”

Ulrich’s hand pointed to the man beside me. “He’ll do.”

Olen’s hands rose defensively. “I am not part of this game.”

“I disagree,” I replied. “You started this all. Taking me from my home.”

Olen’s eyes traveled to Ulrich for a moment, some silent conversation occurring before me between the two.

“I do as I’m told,” he finally replied.

“Like the good little pet you are.”

Olen’s fist thumped against the table. “Princess, keep going. I’ll give you more hate in your heart.”

I turned back to Ulrich, spinning the edge of the knife on the arm of my chair.

“Well, your grace. Do I need to find a way to entertain myself to give you peace from my presence?”

Ulrich picked his glass up again. “Olen, I bet she squeals when she’s humped.”

I glared.

He sipped his liquor. “I bet she begs the Gods for release when she’s taken from behind.”

My hands shook, causing the knife to tremble just below the table.

Olen was silent but a vile smile was spreading across his lips.

Ulrich crossed one leg over the other, his eyes staring into my soul. “Yes, I bet this little whore makes the most delicious noises.”

My knife was flying through the air in an instant.

Olen stood, shouting at me but the sounds all drowned out when Ulrich caught the blade, his black blood dripped onto the table as it sliced open his palm.

Those unnatural shadows of his whipped around him, crawling up the walls while he stood.

“Do you not like being called a whore , Brenna?” he asked with a smile.

My ears rang as I tracked the beast. He stalked around the table, shoving the chairs between myself and him to the side. His eyes swirled with black behind the horned mask over his brow. A fitting disguise for the creature preparing to attack.

Olen may have been shouting still, but I couldn’t hear him. Not when my hand had wrapped around my fork, ready to stab it into Ulrich’s neck.

His shadows grew around me, creating a wall. Blocking his right hand from reaching us.

“Do it,” the king taunted. “Please, Ursa . I have missed our little game.”

My hands shook while I stared into his eyes. “You’re a monster.”

“I’m a beast ,” he sneered. His tendrils of shadows shot out, wrapping around my wrist, lifting it from my lap. “I’m despicable .” The shadows pulled and I was lifted to my feet, the pathetic weapon in my grip now placed at the pulse on his neck.

“I’m a demon .”

He released his hold on me, tilting his head, providing the perfect target for my attack. But my hands shook, unable to press hard enough to break his skin.

“Can’t do it?” he sneered, wrapping his massive palms around my wrist. He shoved down, forcing my trembling hands to break the skin, his dark blood now trickling down his neck.

“Let go,” I demanded.

“Do it, Brenna,” he replied. “Do it and see what happens. See what horrors unleash upon this world without me in it.”

“You’re a monster.”

“I am Death .” He pressed harder and the fork plunged further into his neck. “You cannot kill me.”

The shadows around us disappeared in an instant. Olen’s hands wrapped around my arms as he pulled me away. His shouts were loud but still muffled behind the ringing in my ears.

Ulrich stood, ripping the fork from his neck and throwing it onto the table. He turned to his red-faced, yelling right hand.

The ringing stopped at the clearing of his throat and Olen’s shouting silenced.

“I want her at the docks tomorrow,” the king addressed his most trusted confidant. “She sleeps in the dungeon. A shame, Brenna. We were just beginning to get along.”

Ulrich left the room with his shadows trailing at his feet as Olen twisted me around, leading me out of the main doors. When we reached the hall, I shirked away his hands.

“I know the way to the dungeons!” I cried out, picking up my pace.

“You chose to ignore my advice the other night,” Olen said beside me.

I refused to glance at him. “You’re as demented as he is. Your friendship with him is not surprising. I, however, could never be close to such a monster.”

“You don’t know that,” Olen replied.

I stopped my steps, turning on my heel to gaze up at him. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He grinned back at me. “Neither do you.”

“I hate you.”

His smile grew larger. “I didn’t know we were making proclamations of love. I would have prepared myself for the moment if I’d known.”

I let out an annoyed breath, shoving him away while I made my trek down the stairs to the dungeon. My skin crawled the further I climbed with the sickening smell of mold and rot poisoning my senses.

When I reached the cells, Olen walked in front of me, opening my assigned prison.

With my head high I walked through the bars, pulling them shut myself.

“Sleep well, princess.” He laughed.

“I hope you all die,” I replied, watching him saunter down the hall with his braids dancing against his back as he went.

The late afternoon sun came through the small crack in the cell window above and I stared, waiting for the crimson of the moon to illuminate the space.

I hadn’t slept. Even though my body had grown exhausted, I was too perturbed by that beast of a king to allow my mind to rest.

Footsteps came down the hall. Not footsteps, clinking paws against the stone floor.

I sat up, my dress sticking to the damp beneath me.

“Princess,” Olen growled.

“Olen,” I replied.

A grey-skinned Unseelie with small wings at their back appeared, unlocking the cage. The beast pulled the bars open with one paw, pointing down the hall with his snout.

“Is Ulrich planning on throwing me in the freezing water as punishment?”

Olen was silent, only snarling in response.

“Do I get to change?” I asked.

“No,” he replied. “You get to walk these streets as Ulrich’s Stinking Wraith Whore.”

I turned on my heel, my eyes burning with rage. “Do not call me that.”

His canines dragged against his lips. “Touchy, princess. What? Will you throw a knife at me as well?”

I scanned the dungeons. “Unfortunately for you, I have no weapons within reach.”

Olen grunted, the sound deep in his chest. His snout tapped against my legs, forcing me to return my walk down the hall. Toward whatever depraved activity Ulrich had in store for me.

We wove through the city streets. Streets that were eerily empty. Despite noting the lack of bodies, I allowed myself to actually gaze upon the city of Muspell, instead of walking through the pathways with my eyes focused on my steps.

There were a myriad of buildings. Some three to four stories high, some only one story in height. All built in rows beside each other with the occasional single building on its own plot of land.

Vastly different from the small handful of stone buildings at home and the humble wood homes that made up our unpaved streets.

I moved my eyes to the cobbled road, my heart aching for the feeling of gravel beneath my feet. For the sound of it when my boots crunched against the snow. Longing for home over these bumpy roads that hurt my soles.

I knew we were approaching the docks before Olen announced it.

The smell was a familiar one. Fish and game lined the market stalls that all faced out toward the water where the black mist lay in the distance.

I watched the water, my body longing to swim again. To allow the cold to lap around me and wash away my laments.

“Princess.” I stopped, meeting Ulrich’s gaze. My heart sank when I found the same skeletal mask from that day in the courtyard fitted across the upper half of his face.

“Your grace,” I replied.

He stepped away, pointing to the end of the dock where I found a crowd of people.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Just watch.”

Olen appeared before me, the warmth of his fur leaning against the skirts of my soiled dress. My hands rested against him, absent-mindedly using his fur to bring heat to my hands.

I made sure I was aware of Ulrich’s place, and did as I was instructed. I watched. My eyes darted back and forth, searching the water for whatever we had all gathered for.

Hisses rang out around me when the black mist in the distance parted and the same black ship I’d sailed to this island cut through the veil.

It was as terrifying as it had been before.

“What is going on?”

“Quiet,” Olen snapped.

I tightened my hold on the black fur beneath my fingers. Trembling where I stood while the omen of a vessel approached at that same horrifying speed.

Ulrich didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He remained unmoving and silent, even as the gangplank hit the dock.

But his people behind me? They all hissed again.

Towering black creatures walked down the gangplank, their crimson eyes filling my body with fear. Their long limbs dragged against the dock as they approached, and I instantly promised myself to never be left alone with one of them.

I thought Ulrich’s people had been hissing at these strange creatures.

But I had been so painfully wrong.

The scream—it ripped into my soul. One of terror, anguish, and regret.

My eyes snapped back to the boat, watching as more of the creatures dragged a fae man down toward the dock.

There was something familiar about this man. His cut jaw, his brown copper hair. The straight nose. Yet, I couldn’t place it.

Ulrich turned back to me, grinning.

“Prince Harold,” the king bowed mockingly before the trembling prisoner. “I thought my warnings had been clear,” Ulrich continued.

“Sire,” the man sobbed. “Your grace.”

Ulrich’s hand rose and black shadows crept from his palm, heading down the throat of the man before us.

“Harry,” Ulrich laughed. “I didn’t give you permission to speak.”

Tears fell from the man’s eyes and my stomach turned. I pulled my hands from Olen’s fur, holding them to my chest.

“How is Havrd?” Ulrich asked.

My hands fell to my side and my head twisted so quickly my neck groaned as I met the eyes of the man now shackled with Ulrich’s shadows.

My younger brother, Harold, he’s a fool. But he does his best to learn what needs to be done for our kingdom .

My eyes lined with blinding tears while one of Leif’s last letters ran through my mind.

“Do not speak,” Olen ordered.

I glanced at him, realizing I had stepped forward in my daze. Too blinded by my shock to detect my own movement.

Olen’s teeth ripped at the sleeve of my gown, pulling me back.

Ulrich’s eyes glistened behind his death mask.

He circled Leif’s brother, gripping the back of the man’s hair, pulling his head back. Humiliating the prince before us all.

“Your family is such a disappointment,” the king sneered.

Harold’s jaw tightened. “We understand he did not do his duty.”

My heart stopped when Ulrich pointed Harold’s body in my direction. “Recognize her?”

Harold stared at me, his face unmoving. Expressionless. No recognition in his eyes.

“I have never seen that woman before in my life,” the prince grunted.

Ulrich shoved Harold to the ground, stepping on his palm while he approached me. His wrist wrapped around mine, pulling me toward the prince.

“Stop!” I protested.

“Watch, Brenna,” he whispered.

My knees hit the dock and pain shot through my body as Ulrich threw me before the fae.

“Harold,” I whispered.

“Lady,” the prince eyed Ulrich hesitantly. “I do not know you.”

“She was betrothed to Leif, Harold.”

The man blinked in shock, shaking his head. “Impossible.”

My heart sank.

“Tell him who you are,” Ulrich commanded above me.

“I—” My mouth closed. Was it possible? Did Leif not say anything?

Shadows wrapped up my body, tilting my head back. Ulrich leaned down, his hand caressed the length of my neck.

“Speak, princess.”

Tears lined my eyes, but my words remained in my heart.

The king gave me a disappointed scowl then dropped me, circling around me and Harold.

“This is Brenna of Nóatún, Harold. She’s been writing to your brother for the last three years. Or—” Ulrich winked at me. “Was.”

Harold kept his eyes on me. “Nóatún? That pathetic mingled island of half-fae miscreations?”

The words bit into me, stinging my soul.

“Excuse me?” I replied. “How dare you?”

Harold turned his eyes to Ulrich. “Your grace, what is this game?”

“Leif wrote to her, at my behest.”

My mind separated from my body while the king spoke. I was weightless, a spectator watching, while my body slumped with defeat, collapsing into the dock. My tears began to fall without my control.

“It was part of our agreement,” Ulrich went on. “My creatures here,” a finger pointed at the black, limber beasts standing silently by the boat, “well they got rid of your father for him. In return, Leif had to write to a lonely princess on an island.”

“No,” I muttered.

Harold laughed loudly. “Leif would have never written to a half-fae. He was as disgusted by them as we all are in Vaneer. We all know of her island. Of her ancestor begging like a slave for Oberon to allow him to marry a pathetic mortal.”

Ulrich knelt beside me while my tears continued, his finger wiping my cheek.

“Oh, but Harold, he did.”

The king’s gaze was burning into me while he addressed the prince behind him.

“He wrote to her. But he disobeyed me when he made her fall in love with him. When he promised to come to her aid, bringing her to Vaneer to marry and produce more of…” His voice trailed off and he turned his head back to Harold. “What did you call them? Miscreations?”

“I hate you,” I cried, choking on my sobs.

Ulrich turned his head back to me, grinning. “He claimed something that was not his to claim.”

Harold’s laugh was wicked. Evil. A sickening sound as he replied, “She’s pathetic. Look at her, covered in filth, crying like a babe. Making a show of herself before us all. Why would Leif have ever loved her?”

Ulrich’s hand grasped mine and I glanced down, finding a shadow blade in my palm. His eyes were on fire, a hidden request.

“Look at her!” Harold laughed again. “Likely no better than a common whore .”

My lips trembled while my grip on the knife went tighter. Harold did not stop. His insults hit me, one after another. Digging apart who I was and who I had longed to be. Tearing away the fantasy I had created of my future with Leif.

“Rage,” Ulrich whispered above me. “It’s addictive.”

“My king!” Harold shouted. “Speak to me , not that filthy bitch on her knees.”

My eyes met Ulrich’s for just a brief moment before my rage came out of me, blinding me with hate as I ran. My scream echoed around the dock, a wraith’s call, claiming her victim.

I landed on Harold’s lap and the fae choked back his laughter. His eyes were wide, but I did not see his face staring back in fear. No, I saw Ulrich’s, his vile grin, his masked eyes, and that stupid knowing he always had in his gaze. I lifted my hand then brought it down, plunging the blade right down Harold’s throat. I let out a scream that ripped from my soul.

His gasp of shock was choked with his blood now spilling out around my fingers. His eyes stared back, and my vision cleared from my mind’s imagination of Ulrich’s emerald gaze. I stared down at the same grey Leif’s had been when his head was presented to me all those months ago.

“Wraith.”

The word echoed around me while I gazed into the fear forever frozen on Harold’s face.

“Wraith,” they repeated. All of the silent bodies that had been watching this show, chanting together.

I fell back, staring at the red blood on my shaking hands.

What have I done?

Ulrich was before me, pulling me from the ground and pressing his face against the side of mine.

“What a good beast ,” he whispered before leaving me at the dock with Harold’s bleeding body at my feet.