Page 14 of Ravenous

He narrowed his eyes at her and left. Had he seemed on edge? Just her imagination?

The lock bit home.Practice for the crypt.She supposed it was thoughtful of them to ease her into it.

No, no, this could not be her fate! She’d had her own plans for her future. She’d pictured a quiet mate with clear, kind eyes whose heart beat for her alone. Like her, he would eschew blood for food. Fireside books together, laughter, a child every few decades.

Not a hundred in as many years.

Stomach in knots, she slipped into a nightgown, then crossed to the windows. Heavy curtains sealed the room from the coming sunrise. No birdsong could enter, no breath of air either. Only incense and damp stone.

Parting the curtains, she cracked the casement. Far below, the castle’s terraces tiered above the red water and fog, ten stories high—not counting the lower wards where servants lived and weavers manned their looms.

Not counting the blood crypt beneath it all.

The Scarlet Shallows lapped at the mountain’s base, crowded with marsh islands and the sea monsters that hunted between them.

If only she could teleport from this place. Her father could. Co?tin could barely waver—thank the gods—or he’d have haunted this room every night of her childhood.

Yes, if she could escape, she would explore all the Skein. From books, she’d learned it was an island the size of a continent, inhabiting a pocket dimension within Gaia, yet sharing celestial bodies with that mortal realm.

Other territories in the Skein offered horizons. She’d read about them all, maps memorized like favorite faces. Craigdúr’s proud cliffsides on the Twilight Sea. Grimrock’s towering monuments. Ravinelun’s great mountain overlooking a maze of ravines.

This castle’s forgotten library—the sanctuary she’d found by accident, the place Co?tin had never thought to seek her—had turned into a lifeline for a girl like Lia.

A red fin knifed the surface of the water below, and first light frayed the miasma. The bell tower gonged, both acoustic adornment and last warning. She sighed, closing the window and drawing the curtains.

Thoughts in a tangle, she climbed into her sumptuous bed. Would she know such comforts in her new jail? Who would cook her meals? Though vampires usually turned away food in their late teens, she’d maintained her diet. Yet only blood was available in the crypt.

Charming menu.

She stared into the dark. Of course she had much to worry about—even her gallows humor couldn’t distract Lia from her dire predicament—but she felt a frisson of something moreacutetonight.

The air was tight. Pressure before a storm?

As if on cue, rain began. It often poured during the day here, muting the strong sun, which was one of the reasons the earliest vampires had chosen thiskingdom to settle.

After the All-Battle had raged between ancient enemies, factions had carved out territories.

Had those early vampires ever imagined Bloodreach could grow so weak? Or that their latest king would have only one solution to right the wrongs of millennia?

Me.

Royals fascinated her—she’d studied their plots and rules for years—but she had never read of a monarchy as deranged as her family.

Earlier, she’d asked her mother, “How goes the search for my studs? Will we be selecting them for breeding traits or simply choosing the males with the most coin?”

They were probably lining up. Not for her per se. The suitors wanted safety in the crypt. If they sired a child with her gift, they’d buy a future off her body.

Her mother’s eyes had slid away. So Neculain was selling Lia—lot numbers wrapped in silk.

She wondered if she came with a return policy.

Lia ought to be used to the disdain. No one had done a damned thing when she’d told the family about Co?tin’s abuse. They’d shown no outrage, just the cruelty of indifference.

What would it take for someone to protect her, just once? To value her as a person?

Self-pity and tears threatened. No one cared about her enough to even hate her properly. Co?tin was the only one who showed any emotion about Neculain’s decree, launching into rages. If the rumors Nadje heard in the servants’ ward were true, Co?tin had killed blood donors in his fury. Unsatisfied, he’d set off to stalk the vulnerable in the Skein with his sadistic friends.

She prayed to every god and goddess that Co?tin simply wouldn’t return from his latest slaughter excursion.