Page 4 of A Bond in Blood (Blood Bound Duet #1)

Chapter 4

T he candlelight returned with his retreat but I remained on the bed, rubbing my jaw. Waiting for the monster to return from the closet I hadn’t noticed beside the bathing room.

One year of laying at his side. One year of watching his depravities. A year of not questioning. Of obeying.

Once again living the life of duty and silence I’d always lived. Was it worth it? I wondered. Was my freedom worth being prisoner to someone with little regard to who I was and what I needed?

To someone who put his hands on me with little thoughts. Who had killed the only man I’d ever loved.

My mind reeled while I waited. I didn’t know what to do. I was confused beyond words. I’d readied myself for the possibility of using my body for my freedom or scrubbing every corner of his home.

But to sleep next to him? Every single night?

I tucked my knees under my chin keeping my eyes on the doors he’d gone through, trying to gather the courage to enact my revenge.

I’d planned on waiting to watch his movements. To learn him and understand him. Now my hands were being forced. I couldn’t allow him anywhere close to me. I wouldn’t risk the chance of his skin touching mine.

While I thought, the air in the room shifted. I didn’t have to look up to know he approached once more. The cold that encompassed him came at me, like a wall of evil.

To my surprise, the curtains shut and the candles went out again, layering the room in total darkness. I hadn’t gotten a single glimpse at the face I was now forbidden to look upon. I cursed the mortal blood in my body for not giving me the keen fae eyesight in the dark.

The bed shifted with the weight of him and my skin crawled. I uncurled around myself, moving closer to the edge. Trying to create as much space between us as I possibly could.

“I’m going to sleep on the floor,” I finally said, grabbing the pillows behind me.

His body moved in an instant, ripping the pillow from my hand. “That’s not part of the deal, Brenna. You must sleep beside me for the entirety of your service,” he whispered.

“Fuck the Gods,” I muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I snapped, leaning back against the headboard.

“Are you scared?” he asked with a laugh.

“No,” I replied with a squeak.

His laugh chilled my bones, and the bed shifted once more. “Go to sleep, princess.” His voice lowered to an order.

I turned my head, trying to find an outline of the curtains covering the windows I’d been admiring before. My eyes became heavy with the shifting of his breathing, the sound of rest and exhaustion tugging at my tired body. I couldn’t sleep, though. I refused to do as he ordered; that hadn’t been listed on his requirements for my service.

I only had to stay where I was until I was sure his large body was asleep beside me.

My hands fidgeted in my lap, wringing against the nightgown I now realized was far too thin to be wearing with him beside me.

His breathing grew heavier, at an agonizing speed. As if my fear were calming this madman.

Eventually, however, I became confident he was indeed asleep. Slowly, I slipped off the bed, creeping through the dark room with my hands out to guide me.

To some miracle graced by the Gods, I made it to the bathing room.

I closed the door behind me and scanned the dark space, realizing he hadn’t covered the frosted skylight above. My eyes quickly took in the room. If this was his room, this meant his personal belongings would be in the washroom.

All I had to do was find them and hopefully—a razor.

I couldn’t logically remove his head with one like he’d removed Leif’s, but it would slit his throat.

I searched through the cupboards, trying to be as silent as I could, cursing when I found each one lacking a sharp weapon. My eyes lined with frustrated tears and I’d almost given up when my eyes laid upon a high shelf above the sink.

Sitting just out of my line of sight was a glass cup, with a razor sticking out of the top.

I pulled the small stool beside the tub to the vanity, climbing on top as quietly as I could. My hands shook while I pulled my weapon down, careful not to slice myself. Once my hand was grasped around the handle, I let out a breath of relief and held it to my chest.

“You can do this,” I whispered to myself.

I hadn’t taken a life before. Gods, I hadn’t thought about doing anything this violent. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and I would end this deal even if it resulted in death.

I just hoped it wouldn’t be my own.

While keeping the razor clasped in my palm, I made my way back to the room. I nearly tripped when I returned to the pitch-black space, so dark I couldn’t have adjusted my eyes if I’d tried.

Holding out a hand again, I blindly felt the space, hoping I wouldn’t knock my shins against the bed frame. Or fall and slice my own neck in an unfortunate accident.

By another miracle gifted by the Gods, I made it back to the bed. I held the razor close while I peeled back the blankets and slipped under the covers once more.

My stomach dropped as my mind accepted I was about to take a life. The only reprieve I had was this wasn’t any life. This was the monster who had plagued the mortal lands for centuries, possibly even millennia.

He was the villain in every folktale I’d ever heard.

A tyrant.

A murderer.

If anything, I was doing this world a service by ending his reign of terror.

I moved closer to his sleeping body and pulled the razor forward, hands trembling with cowardice.

“For Leif,” I whispered.

My hand came down, moving to slice his neck. To my shock, his palm wrapped around my wrist, and his booming voice flooded through my body.

“The violent creature’s true nature has been revealed,” he sneered.

The grip on my wrist forced the razor to fall and before I knew what was happening, he was flipping me on my back. His body pressed me against the bed, pushing me into the soft mattress.

My hands shook as his grip on me tightened.

His long hair brushed against my face. “If you wanted to play, you could have asked,” he whispered with a laugh.

“Unhand me!” I demanded.

His chest rumbled against mine with his laugh and his grip somehow grew tighter. “You just tried to slit my throat in my own bed. What makes you think I’m going to unhand you ?”

“You killed him,” I whispered, holding back my angry tears.

To my surprise, his grip loosened. “You were not his to have.”

“I was never going to be his property! He promised me.”

Ulrich’s body tensed against mine. “Promises mean nothing.”

I wiggled under the weight of him, hating the heat growing across my body with him against me.

“I can’t be worried about my throat being slit while I sleep,” he said calmly.

One hand released me while the other brought both of my wrists above my head. I could barely fathom the size of his palm and how easily he held me still. With his now free hand, a snap echoed across the room.

My eyes searched the darkness, and I yelled out in rage when his hand suddenly clasped over my eyes, blocking my sight.

“The terms of your service,” he chuckled. “No looking upon my face.”

“You’re twisted,” I seethed, wiggling against the hold he had on me.

“Brenna, if you keep moving under me like that then I may change your terms to something more pleasurable.”

I froze and my body went rigid with his warning leaving his lips.

“I won’t be your bedmate.”

“Then stop moving like one,” he demanded.

Shuffling feet filled the room, followed by a bellowing laugh. “Looks like the princess isn’t so prim and proper.”

My teeth gritted at the sound of Olen’s amusement.

Ulrich pressed his body against mine, an obvious tease to bring me discomfort.

“She tried to slit my throat,” he replied with little emotion.

Olen’s voice shifted from amusement to rage. “Excuse me?”

Ulrich’s hands on my wrists and the one covering both of my eyes tightened. “She likely needs to spend the night in the dungeons.”

“So, I am to be your prisoner,” I yelled out, struggling to slip from his hold.

“Stop moving like that. I’ve warned you.”

Olen laughed again. “Gods, this is going to be entertaining.”

Ulrich’s beard brushed against my cheek and his voice lowered with his whisper. “We can play if you want. Get lost in the pleasure of our hate. Maybe even invite my right hand to join us. What do you say?”

In all my years of royal training for how to interact with a king—what to say and how to say it—I had not once imagined the way I’d reacted as his whisper left a mark on my skin.

Spit flew from my mouth, and I prayed to the Gods it had landed right on his face.

Ulrich’s grip turned from tight to searing pain, burning into my skin.

“Do that again, and you’ll regret it,” he sneered.

My mouth opened to disobey, and a hand clamped around my lips.

“Usually I’m the one spitting,” he seethed, and his fingers dug into my cheeks.

He was disgusting. He was as much of a monster as I had been warned.

Unable to speak or see, but realizing he’d released my hands, I started to claw. My nails hit his skin, scraping down the corded muscles along his arms. Tearing at his flesh. With my other hand, my fingers brushed against his long hair and I tugged. As hard as I could.

Ulrich inhaled loudly but he didn’t move. As if he were possibly enjoying my rampage. Enraging me even more, fueling the scream that ripped from my throat. Like a feral animal fighting for its release.

“Gods, you beast!” Olen’s voice echoed.

Ulrich only laughed. “Take her to the dungeon. Let her brood over her actions.”

His hands remained on my eyes and lips as hands slipped under my body, lifting me up. I yelled out, shaking my head, trying to fight him off of me. Fabric replaced his hands and was secured tightly at the back of my head.

“You’re really blindfolding me?” I asked, unable to hold back my laugh.

“I told you the terms. Don’t think I’ve forgotten them so quickly,” Ulrich replied.

“What happens if I look upon your face? I melt from your beauty?” I snapped.

Olen’s chest rumbled against me with his laugh. “Fuck,” he whispered.

Ulrich’s amusement wasn’t easy to miss, even if I couldn’t see him as he replied, “Amusing to hear you think I’m beautiful.” My cheeks flushed while he continued. “Or perhaps my full image will stop your heart, filling you with terror.”

Olen’s grip on my body shifted and I cried out when he threw me over his shoulder—again.

“Would you stop throwing me around like a sack!” I yelled, kicking my feet.

“That nightgown is all kinds of indecent,” Ulrich’s voice echoed behind me.

Rage burned my blood, and my kicking turned more violent. Yet Olen didn’t react. No grunts, no shifting. His hands only tightened around my legs.

“I thought you’d appreciate it,” he laughed.

“Get her to the dungeon,” Ulrich’s voice echoed behind me.

“I’m going to kill you!” I promised, slamming my hands against Olen’s back.

“Will you calm down you wild thing?” he grunted.

I didn’t stop. I kept screaming and fighting while Olen walked us away. My wails echoed throughout the Unseelie palace as he made his trek to wherever the demon king’s dungeons resided, and I was determined to be as loud as I could.

Making sure this entire fucked up court knew I was here unwillingly.

The temperature dropped and I barely registered the sound of dripping water. My eyes strained to see through the thick fabric when creaking metal echoed in front of me, followed by Olen stepping forward.

Then he dropped me right on the ground.

Breathtaking pain shot up my back from my tailbone and I whimpered. I tried to regain my breaths, and I blinked when his hands suddenly removed the cover and light flooded back to my sight.

The stench hit me immediately. Rot, mold, and death. It filled the air. Seeping into my pores.

I glanced up, finding Olen grinning down at me.

“I’ll behave,” I finally said.

He shook his head, stepping backward toward the bars I now realized were behind him. I moved to scramble to my feet, determined to chase after him, but cried out in pain. Agonizing jolts ran down my legs, forcing my body to stay down.

I stared back at the man who shifted to a beast. “Please.” I clasped my hands together. “Please, I’m begging you.”

Olen only grinned wide, slamming the dark gray bars closed. Sealing me in yet another prison.

“You should have thought of what would happen when you tried to kill the king.”

Hot tears ran down my cheeks. “He took me! You took me!”

“A deal was made, princess. You have to accept that,” Olen replied with a wink.

My hands slammed down on the rotted, soiled surface while the brute sauntered away. Not before I let out my scream, returning to the wild noises I had been making earlier. Filling this king’s halls with my protests.

Olen’s laugh echoed over my yells before I heard his voice snapping at some unseen being to keep an eye on me.

My tears ran down my cheeks while I listened to his footsteps retreat and the scream scalded my throat. Burning the flesh with my rage.

I screamed until nothing would escape my lips. Until my body could no longer hold me up and my bones protested in pain. Until I was forced to curl around myself, cradling my knees while the pain continued to rush through my body.

As my cheek lay against the rotted surface, I prayed to the Gods for warmth. I prayed for safety, for release and rescue.

The prayers left my lips while I silently muttered them, watching water drip in the corner of my cell.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

It drove me mad with each echo they left in its wake.

It was how he was going to punish me. Ulrich’s ultimate plan to make me go crazy. For me to lose my mind and make me as insane as the fae blood that rang through my veins.

I stared at the water, wishing he would have just snapped my neck. That he would have taken the razor and plunged it into my heart, saving me from this insanity.