Chapter 22

Cosette bit her nails until nothing remained. She had waited all night for Oriel to return, but he hadn’t. Was he upset with her? He must be, for he hadn’t even had the decency to return even just for a night of rest.

A choked sob strangled her as she stared out the window to the white expanse of blizzard. If he would give her another chance, she would like to try again. Perhaps slower next time, to give her heart time to adjust to any accompanying nervousness. To say she was embarrassed was an understatement. She had never been put in such a situation, and even though she had been a more than willing participant, her own transformation had not been under her control.

“I’m so sorry, Oriel,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

The stairs creaked, and her heart sighed in relief. She had half a mind to berate Oriel for leaving her alone all night. She would berate him. And then she would hold him and beg for his forgiveness.

The creak sounded again. A slow creak. But this time, it wasn’t relief she felt but alarm. It wasn’t a creak made by Oriel, but rather someone much heavier than him.

She tried to feel forward with her senses to locate the scent just outside the door, but she couldn’t do it with the door in the way. Yet she could hear just fine. The heavy breathing of a man surfaced, turning her alarm into panic.

“Relax, Cosette,” she whispered to herself. This was a lodge. A lodge held many occupants. Surely, she just felt unnerved in Oriel’s absence.

Another creak reached the next stair, and then another. She backed herself against the farthest wall, and her panic heightened once more when the footsteps stopped in front of her door. She snatched the candle off the table—the only thing within reach should she need a weapon.

No… A candle would never work. What she needed to do was escape.

She edged toward the window, but her jaw clenched when she noticed the blizzard brewing just outside. If she got caught in it as a butterfly, she could get seriously injured.

A knock sounded on the door. She held back a scream. Who stood on the other side?

“Madame,” the voice said. “It does me great displeasure to bother you. But I have grave news.”

She sighed with relief when she recognized the voice belonging to Henry. But her relief turned to trepidation as she latched on to those last words. Grave news?

Unable to help herself, she set the candle down and crossed the room, pulling the door open to reveal Henry. The man held a hat to his chest, his expression crestfallen.

“What news?” she asked, her voice barely escaping as a whisper.

“Your husband…”

Ice crawled from her toes to her face as she stared back at the lodge keeper. A thousand possibilities filled her mind. Oriel had always said he believed himself to be unlucky. Had a horrible fate befallen him? Was that why he hadn’t returned last night?

Continuing, he said, “Something awful has happened.”

Her lungs constricted with distress for Oriel’s safety. “What happened to Oriel? Is he all right?”

In her desperate worry, she had forgotten to use his fake human name, but Henry didn’t seem to notice her slipup.

“He’s not, ma’am. I think you should see for yourself.”

He gestured for her to accompany him, and for a moment, she hesitated. Oriel had explicitly forbidden her to set foot outside the room without him. He had all but hinted he thought unfriendly vampires might be within the vicinity and wanted her to take extra precaution. But Henry wasn’t a vampire. He smelled human. If he had wanted to enter her room, he could. Besides, Oriel could be injured. She had to know.

“Take me to him.”

The step outside her room felt like a long one, but she tried to be brave. For Oriel, despite how menacingly quiet the lodge sounded. Where were the other occupants?

However, she only took two steps into the hallway before Henry grabbed her and slammed her against the wall, knocking down a couple of paintings with the force of the impact. She shrieked and tried to unsuccessfully spin out of his grip.

Her eyes widened at the realization.

She couldn’t overpower him. Because Henry was a vampire.

He reached for something in his pocket, now only holding her with one hand, which gave her the smallest opportunity. She ripped her arm free and slashed her nails across his face, blinding him with his own blood as he screamed. Only then did she get a strong whiff of vampire blood.

In his momentary distraction, she turned to flee, but he tackled her, and they both tumbled down the stairs. She struggled to pick herself up at the bottom and dart toward the door, but he tackled her in an instant. He slapped something cold across her wrist, and her strength drained away immediately. She tried to fight back. She couldn’t. Little strength remained inside her body.

Her eyes widened with fear as the realization hit her. The metal bracelet was made of vodryx. All of her vampire abilities would be stripped away—her strength, her transformation. Everything.

As a last attempt to fight back, she sprouted her fangs from her mouth and bit hard into his hand. He yelped and jumped off her, but she didn’t get far before he grabbed hold of her shoulder and squeezed so hard she nearly fainted.

She gasped and sank to her knees, breathing heavily against the exertion from trying to flee. True terror collapsed her heart. Not only for herself, but for Oriel as well.

“You will fetch a fine price at the market.” Henry roughly grabbed her chin. Despite her trying to cower away, he pulled her closer, his gaze roaming down her as if inspecting her like a show horse.

“Don’t touch me!” she spat.

The vampire’s mangled and bloodied face began to heal right before her eyes, confirming he was not a human at all.

“I don’t defile my goods before the auction. It makes them worthless.”

With a strong arm, he dragged her toward the front door of the lodge and out into the cold. Even the frigid snowstorm did nothing to numb her pure terror.

“What have you done to Oriel?” she shrieked, kicking and struggling against his brute strength. “Where is my mate?”

Henry chuckled darkly as he threw her into the back of a horse-drawn cage, one boarded up from the outside so no one could see what lay within. “I have no use for a Covaci male, but a Dragomir female on the other hand…”

His eyes roamed over her greedily, giving the clear impression he considered her property to be sold for coin.

“A Dragomir female…” he continued as he closed one side of the double doors and smirked at her, his previously kind features replaced by pure malice. “Now you will fetch a mighty fine price.”

The second door slammed closed, and she found herself in complete darkness with the tiniest of slivers between each board to give her a small glimpse of the outside world. The cart lurched forward, but all she saw was white. Her whereabouts were unknown after only thirty seconds of traveling.

Cosette curled her knees to her chest and sobbed. Where was Oriel? What happened to him? Was he hurt? Was he dead?

The thought alone brought a wave of ache. He couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t! Especially not after what happened last night. She could never forgive herself if their previous encounter would be the last they would ever see of each other.

“Do not despair,” a voice said from behind her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She hadn’t realized she wasn’t alone.

Turning her head, she found herself face-to-face with another female, one with auburn hair, brown eyes, and pale skin, with high arching eyebrows and rosy cheeks. Her scent alone indicated she was a vampire.

Cosette sniffed and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Who are you?”

“A prisoner like you.” She sighed. “Sarene Garnes. They picked me up a couple days ago.”

“Picked you up?”

Sarene nodded. “My pa sold me the moment I came of age. An unmated female can sell for a lot.”

Nothing made sense anymore. Her head spun, her world turning upside down. In Ichor Knell, she had always been safe. But outside the Homeland, there were humans and treachery and corruption. And Oriel…

A high-pitched vampire cry escaped her throat as she worried once more for him. But even as she emitted the sound, there was no reply. If he couldn’t hear her, even from a distance, then he really must be…

Don’t think it! Oriel is not dead. He’s not.

“I don’t understand.” She wiped away fresh tears.

“Human buyers like female vampires, especially if they’re unmated. Even against our will, we have a loyalty to them. So they can take multiple vampires, all with an undying loyalty to their master.”

“But I am already mated,” she whispered, but she quickly bit her lip in fear. She was only half-mated. What would happen if a man forced himself on her?

Dread filled her heart.

If a man forced himself on her, her bond with the man would be stronger than her bond with Oriel, with whom only a ceremony had taken place. The thought horrified her. Enough to inspire sobs into her knees. Sarene rubbed her back soothingly. A young boy of about four sat beside her and held her hand. She couldn’t make out his features through her tears. He said nothing, but the comfort he brought helped immensely.

She glanced around the small, cramped cart to find six occupants altogether, including herself. Two were children, and the three others were females—unmated females, she assumed.

Her heart ached for them, and suddenly her own problems seemed trivial in comparison. She should be the one offering comfort, not the other way around.

Clenching her jaw, she came to a resolve. She would not accept this fate. None of them would accept this fate. There was still something she could do. If Oriel was still alive, he would come for her. She knew it. She had to believe it, otherwise there was nothing left for her to believe in.

She tore her pearl necklace from her neck and used her fang to prick her finger. She coated the first pearl in blood and squeezed the small bead through the crack in the cart. Although the pearl would be difficult to find in the snow, her blood would make it easier to locate through smell.

“Ylios, Iqris,” she prayed. “Please let him find us.”

When a short distance passed, she coated yet another pearl in blood and shoved it through the crack in the cart. A trail of bloodied pearls. Their last hope.