The combined flutter of wings made King Victor's eyes snap open on his bed, goosebumps already rising across his skin as wisteria filled the air.
"Why were you deserted by your mage?"
The Ancient's voice followed, making Victor instantly brace himself upright on his hands and snap his head toward the source.
Victor swallowed hard, steadying his breathing as he took in the Ancient's imposing figure beside the window.
His pale skin was now draped in a blood-red robe while the night breeze stirred his long dark hair, the moonlight catching the outline of each strand.
It was a visit he had not expected.
"He didn't…" Victor took another breath, still unsettled by the Ancient's glowing crimson eyes fixed upon him. "He was with us in your territory and…the last I saw of him was before we split…during the war."
"And your motive combined with his was?" the Ancient asked.
Victor swallowed again, his pulse still unsteady despite his recovering body.
How would he escape certain death if he admitted that he and Syrus had planned to bind the Ancient and take his land?
"Your hesitation determines your verdict alongside Lumere," the Ancient added impatiently.
"P-please," Victor said quickly. "Syrus and I worked together, but—"
"I do not need your excuses!" the Ancient snapped.
Victor clenched the sheets under him.
There was no way to separate himself from this.
No way to lie.
"He promised me victory," Victor began nervously. "He was indebted to me since…because we lost. I wanted the land, but he wanted…he wanted you."
"Before invading my territory," the Ancient continued, "what was your alignment with the wolves?"
Victor's eyes widened.
"I never was," he replied quickly. "They were already attacking us even before the war, and they suddenly appeared during it too."
"The mage promised you victory based on what confidence?"
Victor swallowed.
Could Cara's pleas save him from revealing that Syrus had been spying?
He was too afraid to lie.
He wasn't even certain the Ancient couldn't read minds.
"H-He had been spying…before we advanced for war," Victor admitted, the cool breeze doing little against the sweat beginning to gather on his skin.
A terrifying silence followed.
Victor shifted slightly, more from uncertainty than discomfort.
"Your kingdom belongs to my judgment from this moment on," the Ancient finally said. "You will send your soldiers into the forest and beyond to your allies in search of the mage. The deadline is determined by your lack of dedication to my order."
"T-The wolves," Victor managed weakly. "My men are no match for…"
The Ancient scoffed.
"I couldn't care less about what happens to your pathetic soldiers. That is a consideration you should have made before you sought war within the supernatural."
Victor lowered his head and nodded.
Dejected.
The consequences of his sins only seemed to worsen.
"Your debt is owed to me till the day you die," the Ancient said once more.
Then the flutter of wings followed.
Victor raised his head.
The Ancient was gone.
Slowly, Victor brought his hands before him, staring at his open palms.
Too many soldiers had already been lost.
His life now depended on finding Syrus.
And above Lumere still hung the threat of wolves the size of men.
Greed truly was one of the most underestimated downfalls of a man.
**
Elana enjoyed the early morning breeze as she stood by the window.
She had woken up early as usual and had felt much better from the fever, though her body remained stiff and in need of stretching.
She leaned gently against the window ledge, folding her arms over the cool stone while resting her chin against one hand as she imagined staring into the space before her.
Her life was not hers at the moment.
But she still held out hope that one day things would finally go her way, despite the heavy circumstances surrounding where she now lived.
She shut her eyes tightly and inhaled.
She wasn't going to think about Azael! She wasn't going to think about him!
Immediately her eyes flew open again, her toes curled as memory betrayed her.
The way he had increased his thrusts when her toes dug into the back of his knees.
Elana bit her lip, recalling too the shameless way she had begged him not to stop—and faster too.
Heat rushed to her face.
She quickly leaned away from the window, lifting both hands from the ledge with a small frown.
A part of her wanted so badly to let him have his way.
But she didn't want ownership.
She wanted romance.
If not, then why had she waited for the right person all this time, only to give her innocence to the wrong one?
or
Could she still hold out hope that Azael's heart might eventually thaw?
"I'm glad you're okay," a familiar woman's voice spoke from behind her.
Elana startled and turned immediately.
"Who's there?" she asked, her pupils moving frantically despite their blindness.
Fear.
"No need to be scared," the voice came again. "It's me, Eira."
Elana's heart settled slightly, only for guilt to immediately rise in place as she remembered Eira once claiming Azael was hers.
"H-Hi Eira," she greeted softly, absent-mindedly rubbing one arm.
The clicking sound of shoes approached.
Elana shifted slightly.
Then the scent of Wisteria reached her, different from Azael's.
The footsteps stopped.
"I've been worried, and so has Zane," Eira said. "Are you hurt?"
Elana felt a little confused, but she nodded. "I'm okay."
Her guilt deepened.
Eira was genuinely kind.
Even Zane had always tried to protect her.
And yet she had slept with Azael despite how sincerely Zane had looked out for her.
"Azael can be quite extreme sometimes," Eira continued. "I keep telling him not to reduce you to a slave whenever we speak. I genuinely think you're more than that."
Elana's stomach twisted.
Shame and hurt rose immediately.
"He said that?" she whispered before she could stop herself.
"Oh my." Eira's voice shifted quickly. "That shouldn't matter too much, dear. He can be too comfortable whenever we're together."
Elana lifted her head before lowering it again, almost biting her lip hard enough to hurt.
Her heart slowly shattered inside her.
"Since you speak to him that much…" Elana began quietly, "could you tell him to let me be?"
Silence followed.
But Elana no longer cared.
She would rather be blind and vulnerable in the open than become a topic of amusement between vampires.
"Your freedom depends on you, Elana." Eira finally said. "Zane told me he tried, but…"
Tears slipped down Elana's cheeks before she could stop them.
Her body trembled as her hands dropped to her sides, fists clenching tightly.
"I just want him to leave me alone," she said, voice breaking.
"Don't agitate yourself, dear," Eira said gently, running a cold palm along Elana's arm. "You're still recovering, remember?"
Elana's strength faded slightly as her fists unclenched.
Her head lowered.
"I want to be free," she whispered. "I can't see, and I don't know what to believe anymore. I'm…confused."
"Zane actually begged me to come see you," Eira continued. "He said Cara was now loyal to Azael and might be difficult to convince."
"It's not Cara's fault," Elana replied quietly.
"Nevertheless," Eira said, "proximity to power and influence is something no one easily gives up once they've had a taste of it.
Elana swallowed.
Was Eira implying she couldn't trust Cara either?
"I understand why you are unaware of what surrounds you," Eira continued softly. "But the only person who has truly been on your side is Zane. Azael only wants you for your body. You may not realize it, but you're a very beautiful woman."
"And after that?" Elana asked quietly.
Eira sighed.
"He'll feed until he's satisfied. We both know how vampires feed."
Elana's mind flashed briefly—memories she didn't fully want to examine, but couldn't ignore.
Eira's words were beginning to conflict with what she had experienced herself.
Because if Azael had truly wanted her body…he would have taken everything from her much earlier.
And even recently, she had been the one who did not resist.
"If Azael were yours," Elana said carefully, "why are you so comfortable knowing he wants me so much? Shouldn't he be loyal to you?"
A pause.
Then Eira's scent shifted.
"Don't you dare mock my concern for you," Eira hissed.
Elana flinched.
"I can care for myself," Elana shot back, anger flickering through her pain. "I'm not helpless just because I'm blind."
Eira laughed lightly.
"At least I'm telling you the truth," she said. "It's your choice to keep living in delusion that Azael would ever love a girl like you."
Her voice sharpened.
"Or should I say…slave."
A sharp pain hit Elana's heart.
Her hand moved instinctively to the wall, tracing it until she found the window edge again.
"Thank you for your concern," Elana said quietly as she turned back to the open window space.
"Zane keeps wasting his time on you," Eira added. "You're hiding behind your naivety. Inside, you're just an opportunistic slave."
Elana said nothing.
There was nothing she could say because Eira wasn't entirely wrong.
She hadn't liked Zane or followed his plans to escape wholeheartedly.
"Then tell him," Elana said. "Tell Azael what I truly am so he can leave me be."
"It's disgusting to be a slave," Eira went on, "but the worst kind is a sex slave."
Elana inhaled, taking in the jab.
A knock came at the door and Elana turned toward it, quickly wiping her tears.
"Who's there?" she asked.
"Cara," came the reply.
Eira's voice dropped.
"Our conversation didn't end as I'd expected" she said. "But for your sake and Zane's, you better not tell Azael about this."
Then her scent faded.
The space felt suddenly empty and Elana steadied herself.
"Come in," she said.
The door opened.
And Elana forced a smile.