Chapter Thirty-One

Remi

It turns out the Witches don’t come to Twilight House until Midnight. How fitting.

I don’t know what to expect of Kallias and Rhodes’s half-mothers, but I do know that if their magic is anything like their cauldron-made sons, they’re going to be terribly wicked.

And cunning.

I’m beginning to learn nothing is as it seems here.

After spending the afternoon on the twins' errand to meet that…horrifying priestess, then allowing them to comfort me that the young boy from their Native Lands is exactly where he belongs, I allowed the brothers to bring me back to the castle.

Kallias and Rhodes seemed rather preoccupied with something, and I somehow managed to be left alone in the eastern wing of the house. It’s an outdoor space (temperature controlled, of course), bordering on the mountain ranges we’re so high up in that we’re nearly on the peaks.

I’m in a four-walled open courtyard space that I desperately want to wander off from. And some breeze, violet-scented, draws me away from the open-aired walls and towards the mountains.

My mind is running a million miles a minute. The way the Priestess looked at me. The way she betrayed her own kind…and my magic and the twins.

The look on their faces when I used my magic to get into their minds. They were almost as shocked as I was.

But I have magic. Of what capacity, power, whatever the fuck, I don't know.

I have *magic. *

None of my sisters will ever believe me.

It’s not like I ever knew I had magic. It’s not something you can really tell you have or really feel. It’s sort of the same as breathing or the same as blinking. It’s just there, simmering beneath the surface…begging to be taken out.

I shudder. I’ve walked so far from the castle that I’m sure I’m bordering on Keiran’s wards. Just like my magic, you can’t quite tell how you know it’s there, it just…is.
I wander at its invisible wall. I raise my hand to its energy, and it zaps my skin. Whatever dark power that the Midnight King possesses, it is far greater than mine, this much I can tell.

I’m just about to press my hand to the wall and check if it will lock me in when a voice startles me.

I sense the Demon Slayer before he arrives.

His shadows, and his menace. All the cruelty in the world.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

His voice is more than a warning. It’s predatory and dangerous.

Where I flirt with the twins' darkness and dance among Keiran’s insanity, Xaden is the one I truly fear for.

I turn to him. My heart beats so hard against my ribcage that I’m sure he can hear it. He wears an all black cloak, as usual, with the dark hood covering his ice-blonde hair and I swear, the shadows are working in his favor to brighten the color of his red eyes.

Brighten.

That bastard.

No, Xaden’s eyes are so bright they're nearly pink, at least four shades lighter, and it is not from the sunlight, or the hood…
But from the blood he drank from my throat last night.

If I had a dagger, I’d grab it.

The Demon Slayer continues staring at me as if I’m nothing more than a piece of furniture. We’re completely alone out here, and from the sick smile across his lips, he’d drink from me again in a heartbeat.

I’m already debating throwing myself into the wards, running so fast to avoid him and the witches onslaught, but Xaden would catch me in a heartbeat.
However, there is a new power burning in my palms beneath the surface. And magic, even untrained magic can serve as a distraction, a weapon, even against a monster like Xaden.

A startled doe needs the element of surprise. And from the way Xaden is looking at me…it doesn’t seem like he knows I have magic.

“How can you withstand the sunlight?” I ask. My voice is more steady now that I’ve learned I have magic. Even if the asshole violated me last night.

“None of your business,” he answers intensely, still watching me like he’s about to bite.

I step closer to him. I won’t run, I won’t hide. This male tasted my blood and enjoyed it. I’ll burn the perfect hair of his head for what he did to me. Among other parts.
Xaden takes a step closer as well. I have to tilt my chin back to meet his eyeline. His jaw is sharp and cut beneath his hood, and his eyes narrow. “Did you want something? Other than a degrading punishment for attempting to run?”

Arrogant, conceited asshole.

It’s an effort to act casual. To shrug and clasp my hands behind my back. Never before has a male made me feel so angry. Never before has anyone gotten this far under my skin.

And I was bullied by my sisters as a child.

“Would it help you fulfill your role as the resident prick if I do?” I ask, turning around and once again running my hands above Kieran’s wards. It’s white hot, like the sun, and prickles and zaps against the skin of my palm.

Xaden steps up behind me so fast I don’t have a chance to evade him. His body barricades me in, half between him, half between the magic wall. “It’s not a role,” he says in my ear. I turn my face just enough to see the flash of his fangs.

He’s going to press me into the wards if I don’t act fast, going to burn me against the wall.

So I play the only card I have other than my magic.

“Is that because you were born in the Lands Once Lost?”

For the first time since meeting him, Xaden goes utterly still. I can feel the muscles of his stomach and arms around me tense, the pure power in them so close to breaking free.

He doesn’t touch me when he speaks. Does Not move an inch. “Who told you that?” he asks.

The power emanating from the wall is nothing compared to Xaden’s shadows. They twist and writhe around us, making the afternoon sun go purely dark.
“Vienna,” I whisper, hoping more than anything he doesn’t use his magic to choke me.

The Demon Slayer leans over me, his voice a knife’s edge on my skin. “And what does the little girl know of where I was born?”

Dread creeps over my spine. What do I know? Other than he was born there? That my ancestor stole a flower from there? Ate it?

Fuck.

The Demon Slayer is holding me captive against a wall that will singe my skin, and I have…nothing.

Xaden presses himself behind me for just a moment more. Wisps of my hair begin to rise from my shoulders from the magic emanating from the wall as if I’m about to be struck by lightning.

“That’s what I thought,” Xaden says, then pulls back a moment before my cheek is burned.

I can sense the power of his body fading from behind me, and I stagger back. I nearly trip and fall, but Xaden catches me with one hand, and a low growl.
“Can’t you do anything but take my brother’s cocks?”

God’s above. The jealousy and frustration in his voice. The irritation. I’ve done something to the Demon Slayer. And the suggestion that he’s jealous…

No. Get it together Remi. I am not attracted to toxic men. I am not attracted to sadistic men.

I squeeze my thighs shut. I still think that if I can convince one of the men to fuck me, I’ll be ineligible from the sacrifice. But it can’t be Xaden, definitely, not Xaden, not when there are three males inside the castle behind us that give me butterflies.

Xaden just gives me…anger.

And of course, he notices how flustered I am. How I’m fighting an attraction I dare not name. I can’t keep anything from Xaden.

I wish I could read his mind like the twins.

“Do you want to take your turn?” I prod.

Never did I think words like this would leave my mouth. Never have I offered myself like this to a male before?

Xaden’s gaze sharpens. He looks me over once, twice. Then takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “You should walk back to your room, now.”

“Why?”

Last night, when his fangs pierced my neck and he drank my blood, I wanted to kill him. I was terrified of him, and in the worst pain I ever felt. But, then, after a few seconds, for whatever reason, the pain turned into pleasure. A pleasure I’ve never known.

And I’m not sure if I should feel shame for that. If Xaden wants me to feel shame for that.

My whole life, I thought I’d just remain among the wildflowers. Hidden away from society and not thought about much. But last night, I felt picked and placed in a vase. A vase in a beast’s home.

And if I am in a villain’s home, destined to be feasted on, I may as well bite back.

He’s utterly still as I lift my hand to the hood that cloaks his face. He’s beautiful, as beautiful as Kieran, but all sharp edges.

A true vampire.

“Now that you’ve started,” he says, “what will you do about it, little doe?”

He cocks his head to the side, his jaw barely skimming where my hands cup the velvet fabric of his hood. I gasp at the contact, at how cold he is.
What will I do about it? What will I do with him?

I can’t run away now. I’ll look like a coward. And Xaden will be beyond gratified with such.

So I bring my other hand to my lips and rub my fingers around them slightly, then nibble on the nail of my thumb.

Xaden growls and I feel his cock between us harden. He pulls me closer, and gods it’s huge. Perhaps the biggest of them all.

He grabs both my wrists in one of his hands and wraps them behind my back. He pulls every so slightly on my hands, forcing me to arch my back and look up at him, completely defenseless.

I can’t breathe when he touches me. His hand journeys up my arm and across my throat. I jolt when his fingertips hit the soft skin of my throat, and Xaden chuckles.
“Pretty, terrified doe,” he says, his thumb skimming my lips. “Trying to pretend she’s bigger than she is.”

“Mythic Demon Slayer,” I say, “trying to pretend he’s better than all of this.”

“I made no such claim.” His hand tightens on my wrist, locking me in place. A shiver falls over my shoulder as his hand moves from my lips to my dress, caressing the fabric over my breasts.

He’s hungry for more. I can sense it.

“Feed from me,” I say, holding his gaze. It’s what he expects of me, and strangely, what I expect from myself.

Xaden chuckles, his blonde hair shimmers like liquid starlight in the snow. His smile is so white and beautiful. Like icicles.

But white flashes like a thunderbolt.

Without asking for permission, without asking for consent. Xaden grabs the fabric of my dress with one palm, then easily claws it open.

Blood and beading and thread explode from my chest, the dress ripping open and littering the floor in various pearls and gold.

Xaden didn’t cut deep, but he scratched, and my skin had four claw marks dripping red.

I would have screamed, maybe for help, if it weren’t for Xaden's hand covering my mouth. That and his other hand holding me still, tethering me to the spot.
I supposed I asked for this. For him to feed me. But are nails a more favorable alternative to a vampire bite?

There’s no godly pleasure flooding my veins like when he drank from me. The air gets lodged in my throat. I’m beyond wet now. My thighs are shut tight. He’s teasing me. Xaden is teasing me.

I whimper as Xaden leans down and begins to lick my chest, my blood. I’m crying softly, but don’t remember crying, and he licks the tears from my eyes along with the mess of red. He carefully avoids my nipples, which are hard and aching for more.

He carefully avoids giving me what I want.

“Shh,” Xaden looks pleased with himself. Mocking, almost. Of course, he could tell that I enjoyed the bite, of course he knows I yearn for it again.
But he wipes my tears so gently I almost don’t feel the stinging from the cuts.

“Look at me,” he orders.

His pale skin and bright eyes are so entrancing you think he was a painting. A painting of the God of Ice and Shadows.

But then his magic slithers in my throat, crawls down my spine, and the handsome face turns deathly sharp.

Before I can process what’s happening, Xaden has me pressed against the wards.

The walls don’t burn like fire, but rather energy. Like stinging, prickling, lightning. Xaden's body is trembling with barely contained rage, and his eyes of pink and chrome…they’ve gone completely red.

“Listen to me very carefully, Offering.” His jaw is carved from marble. Every fiber in my body is telling me to get away. To run. Fast. “You are a foolish girl with foolish intentions whose only use is a pretty mouth and a bit of blood.”

My heart…I think it shatters.

“You are absolutely nothing to me, nothing to my brothers, and it would be better for the world if you and your ancestors had never been born.”
Pain, there is a pain in those eyes of rose. One I know nothing about, but something I recognize. Something I want to help.

“Kiss me, please,” my voice is weaker than ever before. “Or feed on me, touch me, just something.”

Still pushing me into the wards, singing my skin against Keirans energy, the Demon Slayer says. “No.”

My body is burning at a temperature I’ve never known. “Please,” I manage one last time, and then Xaden releases his grip and is gone.

“I’m not interested in a broken fuck doll,” he tells me, and then he stalks from the room and I gulp down air.

I collapse onto the floor, the half-melted snow, and lie there for a moment. I’m not sure what the hell just happened, how I survived that. Why did he leave?
I feel like I just jumped off a cliff and haven’t hit the bottom.

The sun is beginning to set, and dark clouds roll in. A storm is coming along with the Witches. I don’t have time to be begging sadistic men to fuck me.
The rain starts as I walk back to the courtyard, cooling my energized skin. The cold water alleviates some of my unspent energy, but not enough.
Gods I hate him so much, and I’ve never hated anyone before.

I cross across the courtyard right as lightning strikes, pushing my soaking-wet body into the East Wing’s library.

Was Xaden right? Did I want to be punished? And my desperation…am I empowered, or broken?

Maybe Xaden sees me more clearly than the others do. Maybe Xaden sees me more clearly than I do myself.