Page 36 of Dark Reign

”What is it? What’s happening?” Felix blurted.

There was no point in answering. There was no time. I needed to get down there and help this girl. I moved toward the doors, planning to take the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. Every second counted. I was nearly to the threshold of the French doors when my wrist was taken. Julian whirled me around until we were face to face again. At first, I didn’t understand why he lacked the sense of urgency that pumped blood through my veins at twice the normal speed, didn’t understand the confused look he wore.

Until I did.

Until he made his stance crystal clear.

“You can’t go down there,” he stated, an air of disbelief in his tone.

When I tried and failed to snatch my hand from his, the frustration he expressed at my protest only grew.

“Corina … she’s just a Doll,” he reasoned, a deep crease at the center of his brow marking his confusion. He didn’t understand, didn’t sympathize with the idea of a life being taken mere meters away.

And his explanation said it all.

She was just a Doll.

“Let go of me.”

There was no chance Julian could mistake that I was serious. I wanted to get as far away from him as possible. Far away from the twisted way his people viewed the world.

“Why are you making such a fuss about this? What he does with his property is none of our business.”

And there it was, the truth that existed beneath this beautiful façade of whatlookedlike a man, but was really only a monster. How quickly I’d forgotten.

“Let …goof me.” I repeated my request, holding his gaze as I spoke.

With a forlorn gaze—one I nearly sympathized with—he stared. A moment later, the grasp that held me prisoner loosened, and I didn’t hesitate to run, leaving him to assume whatever he wanted about me. It didn’t matter.

Because I didn’t intend for our paths to ever cross again.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Corina

“Cori, talk to us.”

I ignored the team as I took off, stopping only to remove the silver heels from my feet as I ran with no real plan, simply in search of the staircase, an exit. I’d been running and ducking down one torch-lit corridor after another for a full minute, searching for the stairs. A hallway to the right seemed vaguely familiar, so I turned, hoping I’d gotten it right this time, but … I hadn’t.

In fact, I’d gotten it terribly wrong.

I dead-ended at a guestroom, one bathed in the glow of at least two dozen candles. Before me, as I stood in the open doorway, two sets of brown eyes met mine. Both half-mast and dazed as they barely clung to consciousness. They were nowhere near as well-put-together as the Dolls I’d seen here tonight, but were definitely human. These two were disheveled—their hair limp and falling from haphazardly placed pins, their dresses fitting poorly, as if they’d been borrowed or perhaps even stolen.

Whatever the case, something wasn’t right with them.

Neither seemed to care as thin trickles of blood streamed down their frail necks. A man stood over them, an Ianite who didn’t even notice I was there as a set of jagged fangs protruded from his gums. He sank them into the delicate skin of one’s wrist, drinking from her at such a rapid rate I feared she’d die any second, but … there was no protest—fromeitherwoman. Instead, a look of euphoria danced on the face of his human snack.

She …enjoyedit.

Perhaps more thanhedid.

I’d heard the term‘tweakers’mentioned before, but had never seen one with my own eyes—humans who lent themselves to Ianites for a feeding, all so they could get high on the feel of being almost completely drained of blood. And perhaps, even the idea of being so close to death.

My stomach swirled and I thought I might vomit. This place … it wasn’t meant for me. I had to find a way out of there.

I finally made it to the banister, sprinting to the first landing. Stately artwork—portraits of lords and dukes who had reigned throughout the Dynasty—lined the walls in a blur as I took the steps by two. I was aware of them, but barely noticed any detail. My thoughts were intently focused on making an escape.

Andfast.

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