Page 52 of Princess Avenged

Her hand shifts on my thigh. “I’m so sorry.”

“Among many other duties, my parents were used for their blood.” Anger bubbles inside me. “I don’t know everything bad that happened to them, but I saw enough. And was a firsthand witness to their murders.”

“Oh, Blade.” She embraces me, stroking the back of my neck with one hand, her other still on my thigh, and the anger and tension inside me unfurls. Ana must sense it too, because she sits back, and takes my hands in hers. “That must have been horrible.”

I nod, sadness filling the space where all my anger was living. “One of the newly graduated vampires, I don’t remember his name, he was feeding from my mother, and he—he raped her.”

Disgust and empathy rise in her eyes. Along with a fierce anger of her own.

“I was with my father,” I continue recounting my newly found memory. “Hearing her screams, he burst in, and I snuck in behind him. I wasn’t supposed to be outside our small room, but like I said, I was a brat. And I hated being cooped up in that tiny space all the time. Especially since my parents worked very long hours, leaving me alone most of the time.”

She shakes her head. “How old were you?”

“Four, maybe five? I’m not certain.” I shrug. “I was so lonely. There were other children at The Institute, but I was barred from their quarters. The door to that area was always locked. I don’t even know if my parents interacted with the boys.”

Another memory strikes like a lightning bolt.

“What is it?” she asks, her eyes widening.

“Flame,” he says softly. “Flame knew my mother. I think she might have been the only person of color he’d seen. And I was the second. When I first met him, Flame said her name.”

I suck in a sharp breath. “Winnie. I’d forgotten her name until now.” Closing my eyes, I search for my father’s name, but find none. Then the memory of my parents’ murder starts playing again.

“My father tried to pull the vampire off my mother,” I want to get the story out, before it returns to the ether. “The vampire threw Father across the room, and when he landed, his head was bent to the side. His neck was broken. The only mercy is that my mother didn’t see it happen. At least I don’t think she did. Her screams of pain had stopped by then. She was unconscious. Bleeding…” Bleeding from so many places I don’t want to mention them. I’m sure Ana can guess.

“The vampire kicked my father to make sure he was dead, and then went back to my mother.” A shiver of rage traces through me. “He mounted her bleeding body again.”

“No.” Ana gasps, horror painting her face.

My eyes narrow as sadness mixes into the anger inside me. “I ran toward him.” The memories grow vivid. “We were in a kitchen. My mother was a cook. I found a knife. I drove it into the vampire’s leg. But it didn’t stop him. He swatted me away, but I kept fighting him. I climbed onto his back. I tried to pull him off my mother.”

My eyes close again. “The Master, our maker. He came in.” I run my hand over my head. “I’m not sure how much he saw. In hindsight, he may have been in the room all along.”

“The Master took me under one arm and pulled the vampire off Mother with the other. Still holding me, he drove a stake through the vampire’s heart, and then used the same stake to kill my mother.”

Every part of me trembles, but I need to finish this.

“Given how much blood she’d lost, she might not have lived. But I realize now that he couldn’t let her live. He couldn’t risk her escaping The Institute and telling her tale.”

Ana leans toward me and strokes my face—so much hurt in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Blade.”

I draw a long breath. “You saw your parents murdered too.”

She nods.

“And your siblings.”

Her gaze drops for a moment, and when it returns to meet mine, it’s like she’s seeing every part of me, parts of me I didn’t even know were there. I haven’t felt this seen since Flame first befriended me in our barracks when we were boys. And as much as I already hated The Master, I hate him even more now my memories have returned.

“I suppose I should thank our maker for not killing me,” I say coldly.

“I, for one, would like to thank him for that.” Ana leans forward and presses a soft kiss on my forehead. Then she settles on my lap.

“Why do you think he let you live?” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. That’s an insensitive question, but I often wonder why I survived, when the rest of my family were killed. The question still haunts me some nights.”

I tighten my hold around her waist. “My father—” I suck in the realization “—he was very tall, very muscular. My mother was tall too. Our maker must have seen the potential for me to grow into someone he could turn into a killing machine.”

Ana shifts on my lap, and my erection renews its demands. She kisses my throat. “I always felt a strong connection between us. Now I understand another reason why.” Her hand strokes my face as she looks into my eyes.

---