My arms were bound in silver chain, not because it would hold me, no the poisoned dagger Jane thrust into me made sure I was weak enough for the bindings. They clanked together like tinkling bells and I closed my eyes imagining myself back at French court with Leo and Sara dancing and drinking the night away.
“Bash!” I screamed and struggled, but not a soul came. The breeze carried the faint scent of olives and lemons reminding me of simpler times. While I couldn’t see through the window, I knew my brother had at least brought me home. High in the hills surrounded by the dirt of our people before we’d been turned and forced to live this life. There was a time all we wanted was a plot of land to sow and a good woman to cook the food we provided. I’d seen too many plagues, famines, and wars to know the cycle would sadly repeat itself and oh what I might have given for just one turn on this Earth and no more.
“Sebastián!” I hollered broken and defeated.
No sound resonated back. Bars on the window casted shadows, his magic sealed my sounds within. It would take close to fifty years for my body to wither, and disintegrate into a mummified thing. There was no heart to stop beating and my artificial warmth ended with the sun changing positions. No. I’d never get out of here and leave this place. Sebastián Knight made sure of that. Bash the brother had the grace to give me this cell in which my thoughts would murder my sanity. My resentments would grow and bloom into nothing. No one was coming to save me, supernatural or otherwise.
I laid there on the floor starring at the concrete and wood beams. My body fought with itself to let go, succumb to the numbness. Night fell and with it a strange scurrying in the dark. My ears honed in on the sound until my lips smiled a wicked grin. The rats had come and with it, my one chance to survive.
One by one the vermin gathered, one by one, I drank them dry tricking them to come close to my face where I could snap my teeth into their furry bodies. Days passed, weeks passed, until one night I woke with a different kind of hunger. It was the kind of hunger that told me the poison had passed through my system. I clenched my fists and swelled my skin snapping the silver chains. The door would pose another problem, but I’d already begun to hear the sounds of workers return to the house to tend the fields. I drank whatever passed my way in the cell collecting carcasses until the smell permeated with the stench of death. No one might be able to hear me, but sooner or later the smell would permeate the house above and so I waited and waited.
I found out her name was Anastasia, in Greek, it meant resurrection, and with her blood I was reborn. I’d kept her compelled and alive for a week going back and forth to the kitchens for food and to return as my dessert. At first, I covered her body with bites in my desperation. When my mind cleared, I was more choosey in how I fed drinking in long pulls that had me grasping for breath and her for life, or what was left of it when I finished with her.
On many nights, she’d beg for her life, and in my anger, I ignored her pleas. She had dark hair with riotous curls, and startling green eyes that reminded me of the olive branches on the property. I don’t know if it was my compulsion or her curiosity that kept her coming back each time I released her. I was weak and the fear in her eyes was a heady aphrodisiac.
I’d let my brother have this one lifetime with Jane. He’d realize soon enough he should have staked me in the sun. I’d been jealous of the love he cultivated in not one, but three women. I wanted it and I tried stealing it. It worked until her. His bonded mate. As much as I would hate Jane for pulling us apart, eternity was a long time to play these games.
I looked down at the woman I bled dry wondering if I could have what my brother and Jane had with my own. Call it personal growth or the second coming of Christ, but when I felt the faint pulse of Anastasia’s heart flutter, I bit into my hand and cupped the bloody palm to her lips no longer wishing to live this life alone as a complete parasite.
“Come baby girl, drink up.” I cooed massaging her throat to take the thick rusty liquid into her body. She sputtered and sprayed me at first unwilling to take my gift. The bond wasn’t a hundred percent solidified until I fucked her and shared blood but this was a start. I already felt her connection to me untangling like a knotted ribbon weaving with mine and growing stronger.
“Shhhh. You have to be a good girl and get this in you. It’s the only way.” I held her tight and continued to force feed her.
“Please.” She mumbled choking and wheezing turning her face into my chest. I liked that and caressed her head holding her close feeling her warmth become mine.
“I know you’re scared. I’m not a good man, I’m not a very good vampire either, but you’re mine now, forever.” I kissed the top of her head and rocked her to sleep. Yes, she’d make a very good companion and when I was strong enough, I’d carve our names into one of the trees outside for generations to see. Anastasia and Dorian until death or sunlight do tear us apart.
About M.C. Cerny
M.C. Cerny is a USA Today Bestselling author of fresh sexy books. She experienced
