I turn away from the door, curling up and drawing my knees close to my chest. With my eyes shut tight, I seek solace in the darkness-not for sleep, as rest is hard to come by in the enemy’s den. I must bide my time, allowing my wounds to mend and gathering my strength before devising my next move.
My brief moment of peace shatters as someone seizes my arm with force, wrenching me from the bed and sending me crashing to the ground. Ember’s eyes blaze with unmistakable hatred as she looms over me, her grip unyielding as she drags me across the floor. A sharp pain shoots through my side as it scrapes against the unforgiving surface, eliciting a wince from me.
Gritting my teeth, I lift my head defiantly, meeting Ember’s gaze with a steely glare of my own. She knows full well that Nickolas has just drained the blood out of me, leaving me in no condition to withstand such rough treatment. As for how I didn’t hear her approach, the result from Nickolas’s draining the blood out of me, it has dulled my senses, making me unaware of her presence until it was too late.
As I tear my gaze away from Ember, I assess the damage to my side, noting the bruises marring my porcelain skin. Before I can fully process the extent of my injuries, Ember grabs me by my shirt collar, yanking me upright with a snarl. I struggle to maintain my balance, my legs trembling beneath me as she releases her grip, causing me to collapse to the ground once more. The impact is harsher this time, sending a jolt of pain through my bruised knees.
“Hey!” I retort, allowing my anger to override my better judgment, momentarily forgetting the precariousness of my situation.
“Did you just shout at me?” Ember’s voice booms, her words laced with fury as her hand connects with a sharp slap across my cheek. The sting radiates through my skin, igniting a fiery rage within me as I instinctively bring my hand to cradle the tender flesh. The urge to strike back simmers beneath the surface, but I restrain myself, knowing the futility of retaliating against her.
Glaring daggers at Ember, I meet her gaze with an intensity that could pierce steel. In that moment, a painful realization washes over me, threatening to engulf me in a tide of despair.
I’m nothing but a pawn, at the mercy of my mate’s mistress, to be treated and tortured as she pleases. The words reverberate in my mind “my mate’s mistress” a phrase I never imagined uttering. Yet, it’s unmistakably clear, without anyone needing to tell me. It was written all over her when she walked in earlier.
Tears well up in my eyes as I grapple with the weight of my reality, the realization sinking in like an anchor dragging me down into the depths of despair. The gravity of my situation crushes down on me.
“Apologize,” Ember grits out, her fingers wrapping around my chin with a force that threatens to crush bone. The pressure intensifies, sending waves of pain radiating through my jaw. Despite the agony, I refuse to yield to her demand, my defiance burning bright within me like a flickering flame in the darkness.
Blinking back tears, I steel myself against the pain, refusing to allow her the satisfaction of seeing me break. I may be their prisoner, but I am still a princess a fact I cling to as a source of inner strength. Though I cannot escape the physical torment she may inflict upon me, I am resolved to maintain control over how it affects me. And in this moment, I refuse to offer her the apology she demands.
“Did you fucking hear me? I said apologize for raising your voice against me!” Ember’s voice booms, her nails digging into my chin with a relentless force that breaks the skin, drawing blood that stains my shirt once again. I grimace, the pain searing through me as her grip tightens, refusing to release its hold.
“You’re hurting me,” I manage to grit out, attempting to pry her nails away from my chin, but she only digs them deeper, inflicting more pain with each passing second.
“That’s the point, bitch,” she snarls, her words dripping with venom as she delivers another brutal slap across my face. The impact sends my head snapping to the side, my lips splitting open as a sharp pain shoots through me. Rage surges within me, threatening to consume me whole as I struggle to keep control of my emotions.
Closing my eyes, I utter a silent vow to myself, a promise that my time for retribution will come, but now is not the moment. I know Ember is taking advantage of my weakened state, knowing full well that I’m unable to fight back if I dared.
“Now fucking get up,” she commands, her nails digging into my shoulder as she forcefully lifts me off the ground. Bracing myself for the inevitable fall, I’m caught off guard as someone intervenes, their arms wrapping around me before I can hit the ground once more.
“Eric,” I breathe, relief flooding through me as I recognize his familiar scent and feel the reassuring strength of his embrace. When did he get here? The question lingers in my mind, but for now, I’m grateful for his unexpected presence.
“Hello, princess,” Eric greets me with a warm smile, his pearl-white teeth flashing in the dim light. Despite his handsomeness, I can’t help but compare him to my mate, Nickolas. It’s a futile comparison, but one that crosses my mind nonetheless.
“What are you doing here?” Ember’s voice interrupts our brief moment of interaction, her annoyance palpable.
“Hello, Ember, it’s nice to see you too,” Eric responds with a smile, though it’s met with an eye roll from Ember.
“I asked you a damn question,” Ember barks, her impatience evident.
“His Majesty is looking for you in his office,” Eric replies, and I watch as Ember’s demeanor shifts instantly. Her eyes light up at the mention of Nickolas, a bright smile gracing her features.
She regards Eric with newfound interest, her tone softening as she inquires, “Did he say why?”
“No, but he asked you to hurry as he will leave soon to visit his uncle,” Eric informs her.
“Okay,” Ember responds eagerly, already making her way out the door, completely forgetting about me in her haste.
Eric meets my gaze with a small, reassuring smile before shifting his hands under my feet and lifting me into his arms bridal style. With a gentle touch, he settles me onto the bed, tucking the covers over my legs with care.
“Thank you,” I murmur softly, shifting to find a more comfortable position against the pillows.
“You’re welcome,” Eric replies warmly, stepping away momentarily before returning with a tray in hand.
As Eric sets the tray on my lap, the sweet aroma of food fills the room, and my stomach responds with an audible growl.
“Here you go, princess. You must be famished. Three days is a lot of time without food,” Eric remarks, lifting the lid off the plate to reveal a tempting spread. Despite the lingering doubt about the safety of the food, hunger overrides any caution, and I eagerly dig in, savoring each mouthful.
“Thank you,” I mumble through a mouthful of food, the flavors exploding on my tongue as I indulge in the long-awaited meal. Surprisingly, I hadn’t felt hungry during my captivity, likely a result of being unconscious for part of the time and preoccupied with other concerns during the waking hours.
“You’re welcome again, princess,” Eric replies with a warm smile.
As I finish the last morsel on the plate, Eric hands me a glass of water, and I gratefully accept it, allowing the cool liquid to quench my thirst. With the immediate need for nourishment satisfied, a lingering question tugs at my thoughts, prompting me to voice it.
“How did you know them?” I inquire, curiosity piqued by Eric’s unexpected intervention and familiarity with Jake and Blake.
“Who?” Eric questions, crossing the room to the couch positioned in front of the crackling fireplace. With practiced ease, he pours himself a glass of bourbon from the nearby bar tray table, the amber liquid glinting in the firelight.
“The twins,” I clarify, my curiosity burning as I seek confirmation for my suspicions.
“I think you know the answer to that, Amelia,” Eric responds cryptically, a knowing glint in his eyes as he takes a sip of his drink.
My suspicions are confirmed; the father of the twins betrayed our kind. Eric and the twins likely crossed paths during the clandestine meetings held to plan the massacre of my kind.
“Are they dead?” I ask, a shiver of unease running down my spine as I contemplate the grim possibilities. The twins were collaborators, complicit in the betrayal of my kind. Yet, a part of me wonders if Nickolas spared them, only to change his mind later.
“Yes,” Eric confirms with a solemn nod.
“Good,” I respond, a mixture of emotions swirling within me. While I’m not entirely surprised by Eric’s actions, there’s a sense of vindication that washes over me. The twins deserved their fate for their betrayal, and a part of me is relieved that justice has been served.
“I wish others could see the consequences of betraying one’s kind, too,” I add, my voice tinged with a hint of bitterness. It’s a harsh reality, but sometimes, the most severe consequences are necessary to deter future betrayals and uphold the integrity of our kind.
“We were never going to let them live, and they dared to pour wine on the king’s mate. How insolent of them,” Eric remarks, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement as he winks at me. His words catch me off guard.
“But you didn’t know I was Nickolas’s mate when we met,” I interject.
“Yes, but I remembered as I killed them,” Eric replies, his gaze piercing as he holds my stare, a chill creeping down my spine.
I’m at a loss for words, unsure of how to process Eric’s revelation. I decide to set that aside for now and inquire about their father.
“He should be dead if Nickolas has finished getting everything he needs from him.”
“The same way I would be once he is done with me,” I utter, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air. Eric’s reaction is palpable; he stiffens, his gaze locking with mine, a silent acknowledgment passing between us.
Without a word, Eric swallows hard, his eyes betraying a tumult of emotions he struggles to contain. He down his drink in one swift motion, a silent gesture that speaks volumes.
There’s no need for further explanation; we both understand the unspoken truth. Nickolas hasn’t killed me because he hasn’t finished with me yet.
Neither of us speaks after that, the weight of our unspoken truths hanging heavily in the air. We lapse into a tranquil silence, each lost in our own thoughts as we grapple with the uncertainty of our futures.
As exhaustion washes over me, I succumb to the embrace of sleep, my mind swirling with a million thoughts.