Page 50 of Princess Broken

“His blood didn’t clot properly.” I bring my hand up to my face, remembering the terrible scares our family had each time Alexei’s bleeding failed to stop. How Our Friend, Rasputin, could save Alexei with his prayers.

I’m no longer certain I believe in prayers, but Rasputin indisputably saved my brother’s life many times.

“Bolshevik soldiers found us in the woods,” I continue the story. “I hid Alexei under my body. He’d already stopped breathing, and the soldiers believed I was dead too, but one of them drove a bayonet through us both anyway.” Memories of the pain flood my mind, but the physical pain was nothing compared to knowing that the rest of my family were already dead.

“Even as I was stabbed, I remained very still,” I tell him. “I took only the tiniest sips of air through my nose.” And I listened as they discussed doing things to what they believed was my dead body. Terrible things.

“But they were ordered back to the house, and they left Alexei and me for dead.”

“But you weren’t dead,” Flame says with no question in his voice, more like encouragement for me to continue.

“No, I wasn’t. But I was badly wounded, by bullets as well as the bayonet. I was bleeding and very near death.”

“How did you survive?” Flame asks, clearly transfixed.

“A friend of my father’s, whom I now know as King Dunkan, he found me, gave me his blood to help me heal, and then whisked me away.”

“He’s the vampire king?”

“Yes. My father’s family, royalty in England and Germany, had deserted us. King Dunkan came to Russia in hopes of helping our family escape.” I suck in a breath. “But I was the only one left.”

I remember so little of what happened next, and can only rely on what Dunkan, my adoptive father, has told me about my transition.

“The king turned me,” I tell Flame, “and then he took me to the vampiric palace where he adopted me as his daughter.”

“Making you a vampire princess.”

I nod, and then shake my head to rid the bad memories. “Since that horrible day, my life has been remarkably blessed.” I smile. “It does not pay to dwell on the past.”

“Amen, princess, amen to that.”

I smile, softly. “Will you call me Ana? Please?”

“Sure thing, darling.” Flame grins. “I mean Ana.”

His smile shifts something inside me, something powerful and scary, and so I look into the fire for distraction.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Flame says. “I’ll take you to feed.”

And as he says it, I feel myself acquiesce. I do need to feed. I need my strength if I’m going to escape.

Chapter Eighteen

Ana

Sitting quietly by the fire, Flame makes small talk, and I grow more and more comfortable in his company. Left with only one of the men gives me a better opportunity to escape, but I have no chance of that until I deal with my overwhelming thirst. My tongue traces over my teeth, my fangs tingling. I’m weaker than I’ve been willing to admit.

“You ready to go find a vein?” Flame asks.

I clear my throat. “I suppose that I am.”

He stands and offers his hand to help me rise from the chair.

Nerves scramble inside me at the thought of this feeding. I’ve become comfortable in this room, comfortable with Flame, and don’t want to face any more new experiences just yet. And going to a communal feeding room is light-years beyond my comfort zone.

“Can you…” My belly flips. “Might I…” I’ve never asked a vampire to offer me their vein. It feels rude and intrusive. “I’d much prefer…” I can’t say the words, but find myself wishing his extended hand were offering something more than helping me stand.

His eyebrows rise like he’s read my mind. “Not a good idea.”

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