Page 31 of A Bond in Blood (Blood Bound Duet #1)

Chapter 31

T wo weeks.

It had been two weeks since I told Ulrich my decision.

He had done nothing.

I laid on the bench in the looking glass while my hands stroked Olen’s fur. His snoring lulled my anxious mind when Adie appeared before me. I smiled at her, cocking my head at the wild grin on her face.

“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” I asked, sitting up while Olen yawned.

Adie glanced at him nervously before nodding her head. “There is a gift waiting for you on your bed.”

I froze.

“For tonight,” she continued.

“Tonight?” I asked, glancing at Olen.

“The party,” he replied with another yawn.

“I thought Ulrich was done with parties,” I responded.

“He can’t stop us from throwing a birthday celebration,” Olen said.

I stood. “Birthday?”

“A birthday ball,” Adie squealed. “It is a big event, one he has not allowed to happen in years. ”

I eyed her. “How big?”

Olen laughed loudly. “It is not a Rite, princess. It is a party. While there will be plenty of moving bodies, this will be nothing like the Rite.”

“Your gown is waiting.” Adie smiled. “You only have a couple of hours.”

“Why wasn’t I told about this?” I questioned Olen.

His head pulled up from the floor. “Because Ulrich realized you spent your birthday in a cell in his dungeons and he wasn’t about to have that argument with you.”

I startled, stepping back.

“I didn’t think it would cross his mind.”

Olen’s snout bumped my calves. “We had not realized the day of. Gods, even in the months after.”

I brushed him away. “As long as I get to go home by my birthday this year.”

“It’s the last day of the blood moon,” Olen replied. “That’s the last day of your service.”

I raised my hand, stopping his words. “I’m very aware of that.”

I left the beast in the hall while I followed Adie back to the bedroom. My hate kept its deep root inside of me that the men had known. Had realized I’d spent the day of my birth laying on that rotted floor months ago.

I fisted my hands at the memory.

Of the tears I had shed. The screams I had let out.

Adie pushed open the bedroom door and I walked in, staring at the light of the moon on the bed. It made me hate Ulrich once more. Even though we had found ourselves lost in a hate-fueled fuck on that bed the night before.

Adie cleared her throat.

“The gown, your highness.”

My eyes went to it, and I gasped.

“That mask!” I exclaimed.

“Both hand-picked by his grace,” Adie replied.

I picked it up, my hands trembling while I studied it. It was metal, possibly silver, the fitting over the eyes dainty, simple. But to the sides were bones, skeletal fingers wrapping around the simple bottom layer, barely touching. Designed to encompass the wearer’s face in death.

“I can’t wear this,” I gasped.

“You have to, your highness,” Adie replied. “His grace demands it.”

I turned to the bedroom door, wishing the King would burst through them as he was prone to do. Hoping he would appear, ready for the battle of words I had building in my heart.

I set the mask back on the bed, then picked up the gown. It was beautiful. A shimmering silver with translucent sleeves.

I lifted it and somehow the red of the moon caught the fabric, making it glisten in its light.

“I’m going to look like a corpse,” I whispered.

Adie said nothing while I marveled at the gown in my hands.

I returned to the bed, placing the fabric down gently.

“I guess I’m to be readied then. I wouldn’t want to deny the king the gift I’m expected to be.”

Adie’s eyes widened briefly, then she nodded. “Yes, your highness.”

Olen greeted me at the bedroom door when Adie had finished readying me, having painted me like the omen of death I was now known to be in this court of demons.

The right hand stepped back, his eyes traveling over my body.

“He is going to love this,” he whispered.

I took the man in, admiring his towering figure. The muscles in his chest and the deep V shirt he wore, open slightly to expose his muscles. His skin free from ink, vastly different from Ulrich’s, but beautiful just the same. My hand rose while I laid my palm on his chest, admiring the rich tones of his skin and how it glistened with the light of the moon behind me.

His shoulders flexed and I met his eyes once more.

“Enjoying yourself?” He grinned behind his pitch black, horned mask.

I blushed, casting my eyes down and pulling my hand back to myself.

“There’s a party,” I whispered.

Olen took my hand, pulling me to follow him. “Yes, there is.”

I wanted to go through the hidden door in the bedroom, to slip into the ballroom under the safety of shadows, but Olen had other plans. He led us through the open hallways, passing partygoers as he went.

The Unseelie fae, adorned in their best suits and gowns. There was more clothing on the bodies of Ulrich’s court and palace than I had seen in the eight months I’d been captive.

Olen stopped when we reached the open ballroom doors. He blocked the room from my sight and stared into my eyes.

“You realize everything could change in a moment,” he whispered.

I stepped back. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Olen glanced behind him then met my gaze again. “Brenna, there is so much you do not know. So much I am duty bound from telling you.”

He turned on his heel, leaving me bewildered in my spot. I moved to follow when the cold arrived, ripping me from my confusion. Stealing the breath from my lungs. Calling to me and my sin-stained soul.

I lifted my gaze, finding Ulrich before me.

Dressed as Death.

His outfit startled me. A dark, black suit and the death mask on his face. One of bones, one I had not seen before. One that emanated sorrow.

Along the bones were the same symbols inked onto his arms.

He said nothing, grasping my wrist gently while he pulled me into the ballroom. His people all bowed to both of us as he guided me through.

“I hate this,” I whispered.

He stopped and pulled me against his chest, resting his hand at my back.

“I thought you only wanted respect. I thought it was all you begged for,” he muttered.

My knees grew weak while I stared into his green eyes.

“I do not want respect because I have suddenly allowed you access to me.”

He held me closer.

“I can promise that is not the case.”

“Then I am respected because they fear me. The wraith of the king. The woman now dressed like one of the corpses you force her to claim.”

Ulrich smiled, his teeth bright in the sensual light of the room.

“You do no claiming.”

“I stand by and do nothing while I allow Olen to claim your deals and innocent souls,” I replied.

“Have you seen a soul?” he asked, lifting my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

The metal of my mask bit into my cheeks but I remained silent. I did not want to offer him the satisfaction of a response.

He pulled his hand from my back, then brushed it down my arm while his eyes pulled away. His smile crept up, lifting his lips slightly.

“It’s a shimmering silver leaving the body. Illuminated under the sun and moon. A barely visible wisp in the wind before it’s claimed.” His hold on my chin tightened. “You are not dressed like a corpse.”

My breaths grew heavy while his voice lowered.

“You are dressed like a soul .”

I was entranced by his gaze and unable to pull away from his poison. My body trembled, begging for more of the man it had become addicted to.

“Claimed souls are merely payments of my deals,” he whispered.

I snapped from my daze, shoving him away. “I am not a payment.”

His eyes glistened with amusement. “You are, Brenna. You are mine. Do not forget that.”

I stared at him, challenging his words with my gaze.

“Each time I think you could possibly receive redemption, you do something awful,” I muttered. “You force me to remember the pain you’ve caused me.”

His gaze went blank, the fire in his eyes extinguishing.

“Why?” I pleaded. “Why?”

His mouth opened and hope sparked in my chest. Was he going to be vulnerable? Like the few times he had spoken of that ink on his skin? Would he allow me to see past the monster?

His hands clapped instead, and the music stopped around us. He turned away from me, leaving me in my misery while he approached the dais.

“I know you’ve all been impatiently awaiting the princess’s decision,” his voice boomed out.

Yet again, our battle had resumed.

I glared at him and the wicked smile on his lips.

“Brenna, come here.”

He pointed to the seat beside him, publicly claiming me as the object they all believed me to be.

I held my chin high, ignoring the sneering smiles while I crossed the room.

Ulrich’s other hand was trembling against the arm of the throne when I approached and he snapped his other fingers, pointing to the settee again.

I laid my hand on the trembling palm, stopping it instantly. I leaned into him, raising my legs and straddling him before them all.

“You will not win,” I whispered into his ear.

His hand wrapped around me, pressing my body against his. The gasps and shocked laughs behind us drowned out with the blood rushing through my veins. It pumped my heart with a speed I was sure would burst it from my chest.

“What are you doing?” he whispered against my cheek.

I ground my hips into him, letting his court watch me control their master.

“You will not win,” I repeated.

His hand pulled my hair back, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“What a good beast ,” he muttered.

“Happy birthday, your grace ,” I replied.

His smile was somehow even more wicked while he stared up at me. His hand pressed further into my back, and he pressed me closer to him.

“No, Brenna. Happy birthday to you, ” he whispered. “It’s belated, but this is all for you.”

My face twisted with unexpected emotions and my mouth opened but no words left my lips. I was unable to respond through my shock. His lips claimed mine and every muscle in my body became rigid from shock.

We hadn’t kissed. Not once in all the nights we allowed ourselves to enjoy each other’s touches. It was always that thing we both refused to allow. A touch of intimacy neither of us wanted.

His lips were frantic against mine and his hand held my head still while his other pressed against my back, forcing my hips to grind further into his lap.

My Gods did I love it.

The fullness of his lips.

Knowing every pair of eyes in the room was watching us.

I needed more.

I moved my lips with his, my hands lifted from his shoulder, and my fingers went to his hair. Gripping it and tugging the locks like he did my own. He groaned, biting my lower lip softly.

My hips moved, rocking on him, needing the release he knew how to give.

“Not here,” he whispered, pulling away from me. “No.”

It was over as quickly as it had started and arms lifted me from his lap, placing me on my feet. My body swayed with my hazed thoughts, and I glanced up to find Olen smiling at me.

“They await to hear the punishment, your grace.” He addressed Ulrich, but his eyes were bright, still holding my gaze.

Ulrich’s responding voice broke me from my spell.

“Banishment.”

My judgement boomed out across the room, and I finally turned, allowing myself to watch his court.

Hate—hate stared back at me.

“Bring him,” Ulrich demanded.

The bodies parted in a straight line and a shrill, damning laugh echoed around us.

Those same deadly creatures that had dragged Harold’s body from the ship pulled Bjorn into the room.

The man’s hair had grown some in the months since his imprisonment. A thick beard accompanied his face now as well.

His head was hanging down while he allowed the creatures to pull him through the crowd. But he laughed the entire way, sending sickening horror through my body.

They threw him not at Ulrich’s feet, but at mine.

Bjorn glanced up, smiling like a creature made of evil.

“Princess,” he hissed. “Getting fucked now, it appears.”

Olen’s fist collided into his head and Bjorn dropped onto the stone below the dais. Ulrich stood next, shadows crawling across the floor with his rage.

“She’s given you mercy ,” the king announced. “And you choose to mock her.”

Bjorn rose, holding a hand to his head. “I am the one doing the mocking?” He laughed. “Tell me, Ulrich. Does she know ?”

Ulrich’s shadows rammed down Bjorn’s throat, cutting off his words.

Know?

My eyes went to Olen who nodded just once before placing his finger at his lips.

What was I supposed to know?

The beating started. Ulrich and Olen connecting their fists with every soft part of Bjorn’s flesh. But the monster did not cry out.

No, to my dismay he kept his eyes on me. Even when they began to swell shut. Even when I was sure he could no longer see through them.

Yet, I didn’t stop it. I took glee from it. Breathing in the triumph of watching the men before me take out their rage on the one who had intended to harm me.

Bjorn fell to the ground, spitting out black blood and I lifted my hand.

“Send him away,” I said loudly.

Ulrich lifted his kin’s head, forcing the man to look at me.

“I am bound to do as she wishes,” he stated. “If only she would allow me to kill you on the spot.”

I did not understand why the words ignited a fire of need inside of me, but Gods, my blood felt aflame.

Bjorn sneered at me while his long canines peeked through the blood. “I bet you are delicious,” he laughed. “I bet when the time comes, and he is fully without control, that he will feast upon your soul.”

My breaths slowed.

Ulrich punched the man again, but he did not stop.

“I bet he will bow at her feet like the caged pet that he is.”

Another hit.

“And I know he will destroy you without a moment of regret.”

Olen’s fist threw the final blow, knocking Bjorn unconscious.

The room was silent. Tense. Waiting.

I met Ulrich’s eyes, finding his skin going translucent under his mask. His hands convulsed at his sides.

I stepped forward, wrapping my palms around his blood-covered wrists.

“Ulrich,” I whispered, trying to pull him from the thoughts tormenting his mind. “Ulrich,” I repeated.

His eyes snapped to mine.

Pure black.

A void staring back at me.

There was a thud, and footsteps retreated, but I did not pull my focus from the man before me. I held firm, gripping his wrists.

His shoulders lifted with his breaths and then slowly, his skin returned to its normal appearance. His eyes cleared and the green gaze that constantly held me in a trance stared back at me.

“I did not kill him,” he muttered.

My palms tightened around his wrist. “Thank you.”

The music picked up around us and the bodies began to move. Nervously at first but slowly, the sensual beating of the drums cleansed the room of the violence we’d all witnessed.

I led Ulrich back to the throne, helping him sit and then placed myself right onto his lap. I allowed his palm to wrap around the front of me, appearing before his court like the being they believed he controlled.

Yet I knew the truth while I watched them all and his fingers tapped against my lower stomach; I was the one in control.

The bodies continued to dance, and I remained on Ulrich’s lap, gripping his thigh to steady myself.

“Should we retire?” he whispered into my ear.

I kept my eyes forward, watching as Olen entered the room again. He was followed by a troll offering the right hand what appeared to be a damp cloth.

“You need to clean yourself,” I replied.

Olen approached and I stood, allowing Ulrich to be passed his own cloth.

They were both silent, their eyes holding an unspoken conversation between them while they cleansed their hands and wrists of the blood of the man I’d banished.

“What did you do with him?” I asked.

Olen turned to me. “He’s in the dungeons until Frode can heal him a bit. Can’t banish a man that can’t see out of his swollen eyes.”

“I could,” Ulrich countered.

I laughed.

Olen rolled his eyes with a smile. “He will be brought out to the docks and banished publicly. He’ll have to manage rowing a little boat to Oberon to beg for shelter, or the mortals. But I doubt he’d willingly step foot on Middgard.”

I nodded my head.

Ulrich pulled me back toward him, pressing my body to his.

“Should we retire?”

I stared at him then my eyes went to Olen. He offered me a mischievous grin.

“Should we retire?” he asked.

Ulrich’s hand around my body went flat and he cleared his throat, pulling my gaze from his right hand.

“Brenna?” he asked with a smile.

“I think we should all retire,” I whispered.

Ulrich ran his finger along my lips while fire burned in his eyes.

“Lead the way.”

I pulled from him, grasping not just his wrist, but Olen’s too and I turned toward the door behind the dais. The captain of our adventure, leading us all into a storm I should have been terrified to venture toward.