Page 152 of Tainted Souls
“Take them back to their cells, and make sure they’re comfortable,” Cain orders. “After all, they are family now.”
As they drag them away, I catch my mother’s gaze one last time. There’s no judgment there, only a deep, aching sorrow that cuts me to the core. Lexa and Lucien are the last to leave, following everyone out.
Once we’re alone, Cain drains his glass and turns back to me. “Now, let’s discuss the details of our arrangement.”
CHAPTER 33
DAYS BLURTOGETHERin a haze of degradation and despair, my sanity fraying with every passing second, while the world around me sinks further into hopelessness.
True to his word, Cain never leaves my sight, stripping every act of dignity from me until even breathing feels like permission granted.
When I sleep, he watches. When I eat, he observes, yammering on about things I don’t care about with every morsel I bring to my mouth. When I bathe, he sits perched on the edge of the tub, commenting on my body as if appraising livestock.
He’s learned from my previous escape, leaving no opportunity for me to slip away or communicate with anyone who might help. My only solace is knowing my family lives.
Each morning, Cain brings me what he calls proof of life: a lock of my mother’s hair, a scrap of sweat-drenched cloth from my brother’s shirt, and once, even a piece of fresh wound thathad me retching until my stomach was empty—small mercies that feel more like cruelty.
On the fifth day, Lucien arrives with an armful of black silk and lace. “For tomorrow night,” he explains, laying out what I now realize is a wedding dress. “The blue moon rises at midnight.”
“So soon?” I ask, unable to keep the tremor from my voice.
Cain, lounging nearby with his legs draped over the armrest, laughs. “As much as I love watching you squirm, my darling, time’s a luxury a busy man like me cannot afford.”
That night, I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, knowing exactly what awaits me. Not just a ceremony, but what comes after.
The consummation.
The child that will be born from Cain’s daywalking ambitions.
My body, used as a mere vessel for it all.
I think of my mother, who chose love over duty, and wonder if I’m betraying her by choosing duty over defiance.
I think of my brother, who spent years protecting me from Cain, and wonder if he understands my surrender.
I even think of Ace, who I thought I hated most, and wonder if he ever discovered Lexa’s betrayal.
Morning comes too quickly.
Servants arrive to prepare me, bathing me in scented oils, brushing my hair until it shines, and painting my face with colors that make me look ethereal and untouchable. The dress they put me into is beautiful in its simplicity, the silk cool against my skin, the lace gossamer at my throat and wrists.
I look like a bride from a fairy tale, but feel like a sacrifice on an altar.
When dusk falls, Lexa appears at my door. She’s dressed formally, her Redmoore uniform exchanged for a dark gown that makes her look like a complete stranger.
“It’s time,” she says, not quite meeting my eyes.
There are so many things I want to ask her, to confront her about, to know, but the words die in my throat.
I follow her through the winding corridors of Cain’s underground stronghold, each step bringing me closer to my fiendish fate. I hope the Ravens burst in to save me. I’d go on my knees to thank them, ask for their forgiveness for all the times I took it for granted. And I somehow start feeling like this is my fault. Like I could’ve done things differently.
We eventually emerge into a vast chamber, its ceiling open to the night sky, where the full moon hangs low and bright. The room is filled with vampires dressed in their finest, their faces turned toward me with hungry anticipation. At the center stands an altar of black stone, carved with strange symbols. Lucien waits there, a grimoire open before him, his face solemn.
And beside him, resplendent in black and gold, stands Cain.
His eyes find mine across the chamber, and the possessive heat in them makes my skin crawl. This is really happening. There is no escape, no rescue coming, no last-minute reprieve.
I walk toward him as slowly as I can, as if liberation is still possible, my head high despite the terror clawing at my insides.
