Page 93 of The Ballad of the Vampire Prince

It’s a cruel joke. I don’t even know his real name.

When I see him, the first thing I’m going to do is ask for his long name again and memorize it this time. The thought of coming home to him fills me with an overwhelming determination.

I touch the faded manacle mark on my ankle.

Yes, I’ve been through something worse before with Blaire.

I’m not going to wilt and die. I’m a survivor. And I’ll survive this.

I rise to my feet and scan the room again.

There’s food on the table.

I remove the metal covering next to the jug to find an innocent plate of roasted duck. The aroma of spice and cinnamon is enticing but it could be laced with some poisonous elixir. I pour myself a glass and sniff at the water before taking a sip.

It’s safe, Rhianelle,the Un tells me.

I drink at their assurance, but I don’t touch the food.

I imagine my captors will be here soon. Well, I’m not going down without a fight. They are foolish enough to leave me with a fork. I quickly hide the weapon in my pocket.

One of the first things to do when you’re caught in these situations is to familiarize yourself with the surroundings. There is a hint of salty scent in the air. I think I’m in some kind of building near the sea. If this place is anything like the lighthouses or war posts in Völundr, it must have undergone some renovations after the war. I tap the wall with my knuckles trying to find a weakness in the structure.

Hope reignites in my heart at the dull sound. This area had to be newly repaired. I strike the wall once with the handle of the spoon.

Twice.

The tile cracks into spidering lines by the third hit.

Yes!

Thank the heavens. I brush the hot tears warming my face and begin digging with my spoon. It will take some time to create an escape route my size, but I won’t give up.

My ears prick at the heavy thuds. I pause for a moment, listening to sound of the incoming footsteps.

Someone’s coming.

A dozen attack plans scatter in my head. Maybe I should hide underneath the bed and wait for my captor to emerge. But what if there is more than one person? The confined space and restriction will do me no good. It’s better to be out in the open like this. I press my back to the cool wall, ready to lunge myself at whoever is behind that door.Maybe I’ll let them come to me then surprise them with a quick stab to the neck.

I stare at the door handle, waiting for it to turn.

The rusty metal hinges creak and I grip the fork in my pocket tighter.

The door flings open.

A man stands at the threshold, tall, handsome, dressed in all black leather and tunic… my husband.

Svenn!

I walk—run into his arms.

A relieved cry slips out of my throat when he wraps his hands around me. I melt into his embrace, relishing the comfort of his warmth and his scent.

“That was fast.” I’m so happy to be in his arms, I cry harder. “Thank you.”

He strokes my hair gently and I feel precious. I know this is just the bond’seffect on him. It doesn’t reflect what he truly feels about me, but who cares?

Svenn’s here. He’s here. He’s here. He’s here. Everything is all right.