Chapter Twelve

REMI

The room is colder without the fire.

I can’t tell if Kallias meant it as a cruel punishment or not, to leave me chained and freezing in the midnight air, but either way, I stand and cross the room as far as the chains will allow me to go, attempting to light the fireplace.

I drag some dry wood to the ashes and begin to strike flintstone against rock. I was so close to getting Kallias to break, so close to feeling those muscled arms wrap around my throat and–

I shake my head wildly, dispelling the thought. I’ve never been sexual with anyone before, never even kissed a boy. And perhaps it was good that the kinder twin showed restraint, even if it bruised my pride.

Perhaps it is best that I remain a virgin until the sacrifice, best that I dedicate myself to helping King Keiran and his men break the curse that marks their people and lands.

But the way Kallias looked at me in the moonlight.

I’m soaked from more than the bath.

Boredom draws me to look outside, to the window overlooking the courtyard and mountains beyond instead of the city. The royal blue curtains are drawn, that same damn color that reminds me so much of home, and I can see a grand party down below.
Or what remains of one.

I’ve always heard rumors of high vampires like these ones. Immortals with nothing better to do than drink and party and fuck. And from the sight beyond, they seem to be doing just that.

I know I shouldn’t be watching, but the fire is unlit and the bed is lonely. Even though my sisters never cared much for me, I never thought being away from them would make me so lonely.

Finally, the flintstone strikes.

I see Kallias the second the fire roars to life.

Kallias in the gardens, recognizable by the large distance the others keep from him. At first, I thought it was his power, that ancient, lethal power that scares me into submission, but then I saw the woman.

Or excuse me, the women.

Jealousy hits me like a ton of bricks. The fire is suddenly too hot, the air in the room too stifling.

I was touching him like that, I was running my hands over his muscles and tattoos and–

“What the fuck did you do to my brother?”

I stumble over my own legs, rising from the fireplace in a flurry of humiliation. I have been caught watching, caught with one leg pressed to my lips and the other inching towards in between my legs.

Shadows wrap around my throat. I’m captured half between the velvet wall and half between the muscled chest of Kallias’s psychopathic brother.

He lowers his tattooed jaw to my throat. “I said, what the fuck did you do to my brother?”

My thighs burn and a strange feeling begins in my stomach. Rhodes is dressed in fighting leathers, and as he bends over to threaten my ear, I can see the silver hilt of a blade strapped down his spine.

My voice is hard to find. “I-I didn’t do anything.”

There’s a reason I knelt before Rhodes. This is not the sweet, kind twin, this is the hard edges and lines of the deadliest warrior of centuries. One of the very few rumored to be strong enough to beat Keiran.
“I won against Keiran,” Rhodes whispers in my ear, “and I will win against you.”

Win against me? I hadn’t suggested any sort of game, any sort of battle, but why did he feel the need to say it?

“K-Kieran is known for befriending his greatest enemies,” I gasp out, “why not treat the person who can end your curse with respect?”

Rhodes’ face darkens. “You think you’re our savior? Deserve some sort of special treatment?” He laughs like a wolf. “All of you princesses are the same, expecting special treatment, as if you didn’t steal from us–”

“I didn’t steal from you!”

Rhodes closes the distance between us in two strides. I blink back tears as his shadows clench my throat. He doesn’t even need to touch me to touch me. And perhaps that restraint, that suggestion of a power imbalance, gives Rhodes away.

My heart races in my chest. Restraint, Rhodes is struggling with restraint.

“P-please let me breathe,” I manage, and I swear, desire flashes in the twin brother’s purple eyes. Manners then, will get me what I want. Manners and pushing against his restraint.

Air floods my lungs and chest. Rhodes meets my eyes and holds my stare.

“I should bring you to the dungeons for this,” he growls.

The air between us is electrified, and it takes everything in me not to reach out and touch him, but to also show restraint. He feels exactly what I feel. What I felt when I saw his brother in the gardens with the women.

I press my back against the wall and fold my arms behind my back.

Rhodes catches every movement, every quickened breath and pulse. He is a warrior through and through. Darker, yes, but still someone who respects discipline and honor. Discipline, authority, control.

The closest thing to a love language a torture master could know.

“I won’t ask for special treatment, I won’t disobey,” he sucks a deep breath between his teeth, still holding my stare.

I bite my bottom lip. This is my one chance to go in for the kill. To break the darker twin not afraid of disrespecting Keiran.

“Take me to your dungeons, Rhodes,” the world flashes with darkness, Rhodes adjusts his pants. “Take me to your dungeons, and punish me.”