Page 34 of A Bond in Blood (Blood Bound Duet #1)

Chapter 34

T en months.

Two hundred and eighty days.

Two weeks since Bjorn’s banishment and that night of sin-filled lust with Olen and Ulrich.

I leaned back on my hands, staring out at the water from Ulrich’s beach under the palace while my mind pondered it all.

There was a new peace settling into my soul. A possibility of acceptance for the remaining months of my service. An understanding that perhaps the next four months would not be met with brutality and that mine and Ulrich’s war had finally ceased.

Neither of us claiming full victory, but both sides conceding our battles.

The sun began to set, and I breathed in the sea air, watching the red-moon rise above me.

“I wonder some days if I prefer to see you under the sun or the red of this moon.”

I moved my eyes upward, finding Ulrich standing beside me. His mask was white, one I had not seen yet.

He settled into the sand at my side, digging his fingers into the grains.

I was silent.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked quietly.

My lips trembled and I met his gaze.

“I wonder if it’s worth uttering,” I admitted. “I do not want to tempt Lokii to pull his jesting strings and ruin it all.”

Ulrich laughed.

My hands gripped the sand in response. The sound was so rare, but when he did allow it to grace his lips, it set my body on fire.

“Can I ask you a question?” I turned to meet his gaze again.

His eyes flared for a moment with what appeared to be panic before he nodded.

“Why the masks?”

“Not this again,” he groaned.

I shook my head. “I don’t mean the physical masks. Well, I do, but I mean the other ones.”

He was silent.

I turned to stare at him, studying the white barrier on his face.

“The masks of cruelty, of insanity. The face of a man determined to allow the world to hate him.”

“It appears you’ve made assumptions about me.”

I tried not to flinch at the bite in his response.

“I’m not wrong.”

He turned to me, his eyes burning with an emotion I could not place.

“Why does it matter, Brenna? What good will it do you if I admitted to what you’ve come to believe?”

“It would help me understand the conflict in my heart,” I whispered.

I waited for his response and yelped when he stood suddenly, heading right for the water. I held my breath while I watched him sink into the red-painted surface. His hair floated for a moment before he dunked his head under.

I sat, shaking, waiting for him to lift for air. Yet he didn’t and I rose to my feet, moving across the sand.

When my body was fully enveloped by the frigid liquid, he lifted with his shadows masking his features.

“What happened to your mask?” I asked, trying to keep my teeth from chattering from the cold.

His smile was wicked.

“It’s white, Brenna, and made of fabric. I would be breaking my own rule if I did not mask myself.”

“You’re a conundrum,” I sighed.

I swam away from him, directing my body back to the shore, but his hand grasped one wrist.

“Tell me one thing that has made you believe I am not the cruel being you have seen.” His voice was a whisper, almost a plea.

I stared into his shadow-masked green eyes. The words were right on my tongue, but they would not come out.

“You’re hesitating,” he sneered.

“You’re not holding me painfully,” I replied.

He blinked. “What?”

I glanced at the water, unable to see his hand wrapped around my wrist under the surface.

“You haven’t touched me cruelly in months, Ulrich. Since the day we showed each other our ink for the first time. Have you grabbed me? Yes, constantly.”

He grinned and I rolled my eyes.

“But you have not grabbed me cruelly. You haven’t marked my body. You heard me.”

“You’re wrong,” he replied.

“No,” I countered.

His gaze was on fire when he smiled back at me. “The night of your punishment . I attacked you.”

My body stiffened at the memory. “I had made a mistake,” I whispered. “You caught me in my betrayal.”

“I called you a whore.” He grinned. “Multiple times.”

“I called myself one first. To Bjorn,” I replied, biting the inside of my cheek to prevent my own outburst of irritation.

His eyes squinted for a moment before he spoke again.

“I think you will come to regret your observations,” he muttered.

I pulled myself toward him, allowing my body to press against his.

“Why?” I asked, needing to understand his hesitancy.

He stared back at me, not releasing his hold on my wrist.

“Because, Brenna,” his gaze went dark, instantly terrifying me, “I am the monster you believe me to be.”

“No,” I protested. “I don’t think I believe that.”

His shoulders rose with his breaths and the same chilling grin he’d given me countless times before he lifted his lips.

“You don’t think . You did not say you know .”

His grip went tight, forcing a cry from my lips and he dragged me through the water. I stumbled when our feet hit the sand, holding back my protests while he seemed determined to change my mind.

He slammed the door to hallway twelve open, continuing to pull me behind him, holding my wrist with that painful grip.

We crossed the clock room, and my footsteps grew heavy when I saw him heading toward hallway nine.

“What are you doing?” I cried. I tugged at his hold, sniffling back my tears from his sudden outburst.

“You are so uncertain about so many things, Brenna.” His voice rose and he continued to pull me toward the hallway. “You think I am not a monster. You think you could be happy in my home. You think you enjoy my touches.” He turned around, grinning wide. “And Olen’s, like the whore you think you may be.”

My shock from his shift in mood quickly turned to rage.

“Unhand me!” I demanded.

“I will show you I am the monster your heart tells you I am.”

My cries of protests echoed down the hall while he continued his dragging. His grip on my wrist was so tight I knew I would have a mark from it. A bruise that would linger for weeks to come.

My eyes frantically whipped around, staring at the red-flame candles until the cold of the hallway grew unbearable and his footsteps finally stopped.

“Look at it, Brenna,” he ordered as he released my wrist.

I sniffled, holding back my tears and stepped forward. My hands shook while I raised them, tracing the carving of the woman on the door. The face similar to his ink, but different.

My chin hit the door when his body slammed into mine from behind. His hand went to my throat.

“You are a foolish woman,” he breathed into my ear.

“I am.” My voice shook.

His hands hit above my head and his hips ground into my backside.

“You do not do what you’re told,” he whispered.

My face pressed against the door and my body trembled under his. I couldn’t separate reality from this insane fantasy Ulrich was determined to live. The one where he was welcoming and warm in one moment, but deranged and violent in the next.

“So quiet,” he muttered.

I let out a breath. “I am not a caged pet.”

His laugh rumbled against my back while his hips pressed me harder into the door. His hands removed their stance from above my head, then they were on my hips, flipping me to face him once more.

“The little bird, alone with the beast.”

My hand went to his shirt, pulling at him.

“Please, Ulrich, stop.”

His eyes were glazed over, distant. An expression of his mind lost in some memory I had no knowledge of.

“Do you want to know what’s behind this door?” he asked, not meeting my gaze.

My heart tightened and I moved to shove away, but his hands on my hips pressed me back against the wood.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

“No,” I admitted. “No, Ulrich, I don’t.”

“You think I am not a monster,” he breathed out. “I think I should prove you wrong.”

The room grew cold, and Ulrich’s shadows appeared behind him, trailing up the walls like a poison leaching from the stone of the palace.

“Ulrich,” I begged.

“This door only opens with my blood,” he continued, removing a hand from my hip. My eyes went wide when a tendril of shadows sliced across his wrist and his black blood trailed from the wound.

“Ulrich.” I tugged on his shirt again, but was stopped by the shadows. The cold bite of them slammed my arms to my side, preventing me from being able to fight.

“I think you want to know what’s in this room,” he whispered. “I think you want to see the horrors I have locked away.” His bloodied wrist lifted, and he slammed it above my head. The sound was deafening with only the two of us standing in the quiet hallway.

I suddenly regretted each choice I had made that led me to this moment.

“I don’t,” I replied.

Click .

The door under me shifted slightly with his blood seeping into the surface. His shadows moved to my face, pulling me toward him while the red-flame candles began to dim.

“I cannot let you see, but I can let you feel. I can subject you to all that makes me, me. ”

He shoved my shoulders, sending me stumbling through the door and in the room. His shadows stayed around me, blocking my vision.

I was sure my blood had frozen in my veins. My tears fell without my control while I tried to see through his darkness. But I could not, and I could not ignore the overwhelming evil of the room he’d forced me into.

It was awful.

My chest grew tight, and the heavy air of the room filled my lungs.

The sorrow. The hate. The pain.

So. Much. Pain.

Death—Gods—death permeated this space. Infiltrating the air.

“Please,” I cried, falling to my knees. “Please stop.”

His hand lifted my chin, and I gasped, not realizing he had been so close.

“Feel it all, Brenna. Every part of what makes me the monster you have branded me as.”

“Ulrich, please,” I begged.

“Enjoy your cell,” he whispered, running his finger across my cheek.

“What did I do wrong?” I sobbed.

He was silent, unrelenting, and as much of the beast he loved to be.

I stood, yelling out my fear in the dark as the door slammed shut. “I hate you!” I screamed louder. “I hate you!”

There was silence on the other side. Or perhaps he could not hear me. I did not know. Not with his shadows blocking everything.

My legs gave out from me while I fell to the ground.

“I hate you,” I whispered, pulling my knees upward.

“I hate you.”

I repeated my words, cradling myself while I rocked in place, and I was unsure if they were directed at my captor or myself.

Death

Judgement

Pain

Wrath

Treachery

My back laid against the cold surface of my prison while words from voices I did not know whispered in my head. Vile, grotesque voices. Tones meant to cause fear.

My body had not stopped shaking, for possibly hours, and my tears had long dried. I had no concept of how long Ulrich had left me in the room. Allowing whatever horrors that filled this space to infiltrate my mind and soul.

I began to wonder if this was a new war in our game. If I had been a fool to believe our battles were ending.

If every possible soft touch and gaze he’d given me in recent weeks had been a ploy to manipulate me. To trap me into becoming comfortable. To allow him the conquest of my body and mind.

There were shouts on the other side of the wall—raised, angry voices—but I could not make out who they belonged to.

My body continued shaking. From fear, exhaustion, or cold, I did not know.

Click .

Hands gripped my arms, pulling me back into the hallway. My eyes closed with relief.

“What is the purpose?”

It was Frode.

“Why your grace?”

I did not look up. I did not want to gaze upon his face.

Ulrich’s presence was muted compared to the presence in the room I’d been trapped in. Feet touched my arm, and I knew it was him.

Silent and watching above me.

“She has to understand,” he replied.

I did not respond or open my eyes when his arms were lifting me into the air. The smell of him was one I had grown too close to. An earthy, smoky scent with a hint of floral. Like the soap in the bathing room. One that brought me comfort when I’d slept in his arms the night before. Or nights before? I was not sure. I only knew the smell now made my stomach turn with hate.

I refused to lay my head on his chest while he carried me away from the torment he had forced upon me. Instead, I allowed it to hang back, my hair a curtain of fire. My body went limp in his grip, my determination to make his trek difficult with my weight.

I kept my eyes closed while he continued to carry me. My mind tried to map our path, tried to pick up on which hallway he took, but I was too exhausted to fully understand.

A door slammed open and scurried feet echoed behind us.

Was it Frode? A troll ? I could not tell.

Ulrich dropped me, forcing a yelp from my lips and my eyes sprang open.

We were in the library.

I stood, glaring at him but then my eyes went to the table in the corner. My workspace was now completely empty of my drawings and maps. All of my parchment gone. Every piece of koal nowhere to be seen. Even the easel was gone, no longer leaned against the table where I’d last left it.

“What!” I cried out, running to the table, searching around it. Pulling books off the bookshelves in the back.

My tears began to build.

Months of work.

Months of dedication.

Gone.

Where had it gone?

I turned on my heel, my finger pointing in his face, but I found that cruel smile across his lips.

“Why?” I cried. “What did I possibly do?”

A voice cleared and I turned my gaze to find Olen behind Ulrich. He shook his head, trying to demand I stop. I glared back.

Ulrich had unleashed the monster he’d molded me to become with his cruelty.

His unjustified torment on me.

“Why?” I demanded again. “Why?”

Ulrich’s hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping my hand from shaking.

“Because I can, Brenna. Because I am the monster you should fear. When will you learn?”

He dropped my wrist and turned on his heel, waving his hand with indifference.

“I’ve grown bored. Olen, have fun.”

I fell against the new couch by the window, covering my tears. All of that hard work taken from me in an instant. In one deranged tantrum. What had I done? What had I possibly said to justify this new outburst?

Olen settled beside me, and I sniffled, meeting his eyes.

“What happened?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Nine,” I whispered. “Nine.”

Olen’s hand pulled mine from my eyes and I yelped at his tight hold. “What?” he asked.

“Nine,” I continued to mutter.

“Fuck,” Olen groaned.

His hands landed on my shoulders, shaking me from my spell.

“Brenna, I need you to tell me what happened.”

“That fucking monster is the only one who knows,” I snapped.

“Brenna,” he warned.

I struggled in his grip, twisting until he released me.

“Both of you need to stop putting your fucking hands on me!” I screamed.

My feet lifted me, and I began to pace, my heart racing in my chest. I scanned the library and my empty table. My tears fell heavier.

It had all been for nothing.

All of it.

“I hate him,” I cried.

“No, you don’t,” Olen grunted, standing from his seat.

I snapped up, glaring, gritting my teeth. “Yes I do.”

Olen grinned. “You didn’t hate him when you laid on his chest, completely unaware I was in the room. Or when you begged for his punishment.”

“Stop.”

“You didn’t hate him when he was the only one you would whisper what you wanted to. When you openly called yourself his whore . Or when you straddled him before everyone, sitting upon his lap, claiming your seat on his throne.”

“Olen, stop it.” I pushed my body away, trying to gain distance between us.

“You haven’t hated him each time you have allowed him inside of you. Each time you have followed him throughout this palace, listening to his words while he told you of his intricate home.”

“Olen, stop it!” I shouted.

Olen pressed his body into mine. “No, Brenna. You do not hate him. You hate what he does. You hate what makes him cause the torment he so easily comes up with.”

My eyes went wide when Olen claimed my lips, kissing me as he ground his hips into mine. His hands went to my hair, gripping and tugging.

He pulled away grinning like a madman.

“Tell me, princess. How were those kisses compared to his ?”

I stared at him in shock, hating his observation. I shoved him further away and made my way to the couch once more, sinking into the plush cushions.

“Why does he do these things?”

Olen was silent.

I turned my head up, finding his eyes staring out at the water beyond the city. He approached, dropping to his knees while his hands gripped my shoulders.

“Brenna.” His voice dropped.

My breaths grew heavy while I waited for his next words, but he was cut off when the library door slammed open.

Ulrich stared at us both, a smile across his face.

“Wasted no time,” he laughed.

“Get away!” I shouted, shoving Olen away while I tried to make it to the hidden door in the back of the library.

Ulrich’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me against his chest.

“I grew jealous, Brenna. Wondering how deeply Olen was buried in you.”

“Get off me!” I shouted again, slamming my head against his chest.

He held me tighter.

“How is that mind doing?”

His mockery of my own torment only fueled my rage. I kicked him, trying to get his arms to release me.

“I hate both of you!” I cried. “I hate you!”

“Stop making love proclamations, princess,” Olen grunted.

I snapped my head in the direction of the king’s right hand, glaring while he stood from his crouched position.

Ulrich held me closer, running his hand along the neck of my gown.

“Brenna, nothing is done personally.”

My knees weakened with my fit and I sobbed while I went limp in his arms.

“Please let me go,” I cried. “Please stop this all. Please.”

Ulrich lowered to the ground while my body continued to fall, and my words spilled from my heart.

“Each moment I believe you could stop, you commit another awful act. End me, Ulrich. Please. If killing me is how this ends, do it now.”

His arms went taut around me.

“Please,” I cried. “Please.”

“I cannot, princess.” he whispered into my ear. “I cannot. There is no other way.”

I hated myself for welcoming his lips softly laying against my neck. I hated the maddening comfort it brought even when my heart felt as though it would explode.

I went lax against him. The darkness of sleep wrapped around me. My mind’s inability to fight the exhaustion caused from that dark room hidden beneath the palace.

Ulrich held me closer, and my tears fell from my cheeks. He was my living nightmare. My worst tormentor. Yet, I could not understand why my heart was so determined to prove my logic wrong. To find the light hidden within his darkness.

“There is no other way,” he muttered again while sleep fully claimed me.

I fell into it, betraying my mind as I welcomed the comfort of his grip wrapped around me.