Chapter Four
She continued to sleep. It seemed at times that she could barely keep her eyes open. Sitting up was exhausting and eating drained all of her strength. The bite marks on her neck were sore, but she was alive. More than that, she was well-cared for and well-fed.
Avery had only the vaguest memory of getting on the ship. She smelled the salt in the air and heard the cry of the gulls, but then she was in a hammock and sleep overcame her. They traveled for five days and nights on the boat as her strength slowly returned. By the fifth day, she felt almost totally recovered.
As the great city of Varlyn came into view, Avery took to the stern of the ship with the other women. The cold ocean wind whipped her hair around. Slowly the spires and towers of Varlyn could be seen as they passed the huge battleships bearing the seal of King Granzen Thorne.
The city was huge and buildings crowded the shore. They were all built practically on top of each other. They towered high into the sky, shading the streets below them. Flowers grew from window boxes and in elaborate gardens. They passed a crowded market where fish sellers and furriers peddled their wares.
And then, the castle came into view. It was magnificent. It was so huge with hundreds of windows lining the parapets and four high towers at every corner. Guards paced the ramparts as small figures hurried here and there. The flags of Granzen Thorne flapped proudly in the wind.
There was a huge crowd waiting for the ship. Hundreds of vampires and humans stood in the streets and cheered as the ship came in. Sir Reese ordered Avery to wait below deck. She would not be part of the ceremonial parade. She would instead go straight to the palace to wait for Alastair.
Was that good or bad? Avery had no idea. All she knew was that she was happy to not be paraded down the street. But what might be waiting for her at the palace? According to Theresa, Alastair was not a cruel man. But he had almost killed Avery and even though he had spent the last few days bringing her back to health, she still didn’t quite know what to make of him.
The King arrived and a hush fell over the crowd. Through a crack in the boards of the ship, Avery watched as everyone fell to one knee. Granzen Thorne ascended the gangplank and embraced his son. The crowd cheered. The sound was deafening as the spoils of Alastair’s battles were displayed for all the people.
Avery was quickly secreted into a carriage. The windows were closed and shades pulled down. Silently and under the cover of darkness, she travelled up the steep hill to the palace. She was not permitted to look out through the curtains. Sir Reese travelled with her. When they left the carriage, he placed a heavy veil over her face so no one could see her.
When the veil was removed, Avery found herself in a suit of opulent rooms. The floors were covered in a thick carpet and elaborate draperies softened the hard stone walls. There was a huge soft looking four-poster bed in the center of the room. A fire roared in the fireplace and Avery warmed her hands over it. There was a basin filled with water next to soft towels and a soap that smelled of lavender. She walked to one window and looked out to a stunning view of the sea.
Where was Alastair? What was she supposed to do with herself? She could guess why he had brought her here. She knew that he had enjoyed drinking from her that first night. Maybe that’s all he wanted from her—food.
She paced around the room. She touched the marble mantelpiece and smelled the fresh flowers in a vase. She ran her hands over the rich tapestries on the walls and the heavy curtains that ran around the large bed. The bed intimidated her. Would she be brought to it? Would she fight him if she was?
Finally, the door opened and she fell to her knees. There was a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach. He was dangerous, powerful and handsome and she still hadn’t sorted out the feelings she had for him. She was his captive, she should have hated him, but she felt exactly the opposite, she was excited to see him again.
She looked up hopefully, but instead of seeing the strong, chiseled jaw of Alastair Thorne, she saw a haughty woman. She was tall and thin, pale with long blond hair twisted into spirals that cascaded around her shoulders. She was wearing the most beautiful dress Avery had ever seen. It was black and fit her slim form perfectly. Her face wore an unpleasant expression, as if she had just smelled something foul.
“Do you know who I am, peasant?” the woman demanded. She spoke in a short clipped voice, her arms were crossed over her chest as she looked down at Avery in disgust.
“No, My Lady,” Avery said with a shake of her head. What was happening? Was she not going to be with Alastair? Was she instead going to be a gift to this horrible woman? The thought made her ill.
“I am the Crown Princess of Varlyn, wife of Alastair Thorne,” she proceeded to rattle off her long list of titles, but Avery had stopped listening after the word wife. Of course the Crown Prince had a wife. Avery knew that, everyone knew that. She had just allowed herself to forget. Avery knew nothing of Myrcel besides her name. Rumor had it she didn’t leave the palace that often.
“Why were you not with the rest of the parade? Why were you brought here?” the Princess asked. She had not given Avery permission to stand and so she remained on her knees.
“I do not know, My Lady,” Avery said.
The woman reached down and grabbed Avery’s hair roughly, pushing her head aside to reveal the two small red dots on her neck. It was the only thing that remained of Alastair’s touch. The woman traced her hands over the wounds and then roughly pulled Avery to her feet.
The Princess was tall and she towered over Avery, looking at Avery in disgust, she glared at her full breasts and thick thighs.
“Why would a fat thing like you be brought to the palace in secret?” she asked. Avery could guess this was a question she wasn’t expected to answer.
The Princess shook her head and then pulled Avery close. “Humans like you disgust me,” she hissed. “You are weak and soft, built to feed us and nothing more. Were it up to me we would keep the humans in cages like you keep cows. You would be our food. Born to breed and be devoured, nothing more.”
She tightened her grip on Avery’s hair and jerked her head back exposing Avery’s pale throat. She licked her lips and Avery, understanding what was about to happen, struggled to free herself. It was too late. Myrcel descended on her, biting savagely into her neck, reopening the old wounds.
Avery fought against it as hard as she could, but the venom entered her system and made her slow and sluggish. She pushed weakly against the Vampire Princess, and let out a weak cry, but this just made the woman bite down harder.
Almost immediately she went weak as again her blood was pulled from her body. The Princess was rough as her fangs dug into her flesh, cutting and scarring her as she greedily gulped Avery’s essence.
Everything was fuzzy and far away. There was a roaring in her ears and her heartbeat was slowing, she felt terribly cold. She was aware that she was dying and the Vampire Princess showed no interest in stopping. Suddenly, the door slammed open and with a roar she was pulled away from Myrcel. Stunned, confused and weak, Avery fell back onto the soft carpet, landing on her back. She struggled for breath as blood trickled down her neck.
“What are you doing?” It was the voice of Alastair. Through her half-closed eyes, she could see his tall, strong form. His fangs were bared and he positioned himself between his wife and his conquest. His hands were balled into fists and he seemed to be on the verge of launching himself at his wife.
“I was feeding, husband dear,” Myrcel said. There was blood on her lips and she licked it off with relish. “Were you not going to share your treat with me?”
“No,” Alastair said. “I did not intend for you to see her. After all, it has been years since you have set foot in my chambers,” disgust dripped from his voice.
“Why would I come in here when you permit it to be infected with this trash? She’s a human, Alastair. She should be fed upon and then left, not brought to your home. I know your disgusting tastes, I just thought you would have the decency to keep it out of our home,” Myrcel said. Her voice was low. She descended upon Alastair like a snake. Avery wanted to warn him to be careful, but she had lost her voice. She was far too weak and could barely lift her head off the floor.
“These desires of yours are shameful,” Myrcel continued, “I was getting rid of her. I was doing you a favor.”
“I know what comes from your favors,” Alastair said. He took his wife by the shoulders and pulled her close. “Do not involve yourself in my affairs. Do not ever come here again,” he warned and then he released Myrcel. With a final hiss in Avery’s direction, she stomped out of the room.