“What did he tell you?” he softly asks. “You look pale.”

“Nothing,” I reply far too quickly. “I need you to make a vow that you will never harm me, or bite me, or any fae.”

“I vow it.” He places his hand over his heart. “There’s a whole rebellion in nearly every vampyre city, who do not want fae as slaves anymore. They care for them. They are protecting them. They’re friends with them. Family. They have children with them. There are many who want a cure to vampyrism, perhaps to turn us back into fae, what we were before. Maybe it’s possible. But all I know is that I need to see your rulers, and maybe we can make a plan together for a better future. Those children’s parents died to get them out, and I took a sword for them too. We can’t let them die.” He rubs his face. “And for the record, you shocked me too, Catherine.”

“If you betray me, I’ll kill you myself,” I mutter.

His smile is seductive—the smile of a vampyre used to getting his way. A spoiled prince, I’d imagine.

But still, his story rings true. I don’t think he’s lying to me. “I’d enjoy letting you, Catherine. My life is yours.”

Chapter Four

Page Four. The rebellion began today in the blood of more dead. I have to write this down so she can read this one day and understand…

I’m squeezed into a wedding dress that is fit for a queen—a wedding dress that is pure red like the blood slave I once was. In many ways, I’m now just a blood slave with a title. With a crown stuck onto the top of my head and a lifetime of misery ahead of me. I never wanted this and not even death could save me from it. It’s layers upon layers of ridiculous, expensive fabric, so heavy it’s hard to walk or even stand as they pull the corset tight around my chest, and the skirts continue to weigh me down. My arms and shoulders are bare, and a heavy red jewel rests around my neck—a gift from the king, as the fae servants tell me. Diamonds are nestled into the chain, and they feel like a symbol of what I am going to become. An expensive chained pet for the prince. Even with a title of princess, I’ll have no power. No say in anything I do.

I glance at them in their plain brown clothing as they rush around me, and I see myself in their eyes. They are just as angry, scared, and tired of this endless fight as I am. I fought every day of my life since I was a kid, since I was born in the breeding districts and saw things I wished I hadn’t. I want to fight them, to scream, but it’s not their fault. The king will likely kill these fae—or have them killed—if they don’t manage to get me ready in time. None of this is their fault, and I don’t want more blood on my hands.

I didn’t sleep last night. Instead, I pointlessly tried to find a way out of this room. I tried every door, even the balcony that looks over nothing but endless deserts of orange sand. The castle is the same colour as the sand, tall and willowy, with sun symbols etched into every stone. I don’t need to ask anyone to know this was Daegan’s royal family home. It means I’m in the south, from the little studies I did on maps of the world, but the south is a vast expanse of land, and there is a massive sea between the Moon Dynasty lands and here. I’ve never seen sand like this, how there is so much of it, and the air is sticky with heat, making me sweat near constantly. It’s so warm, like sitting by a fire, but all of the time.

The balcony wasn’t a way to escape, as I learnt last night, because it’s guarded by four vampyres at all times. Every time I tried to run and leap over the stone railing, they caught me and threw me back inside. The other doors leading out of this room were locked except for the one to the bathroom.

There are no sharp objects anywhere—nothing I could use to hurt myself—because Emyr is now aware I’d rather die than be his.

Before they place the last layer of the gown over the ruffles on the bottom, I find my voice. “I need to use the bathroom first.”I’m not lying, I actually do, but I also need every second I can get before facing this fate. This can’t be real.

“Of course, Princess,” one of the fae women answers. I flinch at the title. I’m not married yet, and that title being used on me feels like tempting fate. Tempting destiny itself. They take off several bits of the skirt, leaving me in the corset and a thinner part of the skirt I can easily carry myself. I feel the weight of too many eyes on me, my skin crawling with a heavy feeling as I make my way to the other side of the room. I know they’ve seen the bite marks all over me, and I know they likely have them too. Until I went into the mansion, I didn’t know there was an adult fae left in this world that hadn’t been bitten by a vampyre. I touch my stomach, a memory of Ziven kissing every single one of the bites, and I keep him in my mind for strength as tears fall down my cheeks.

Quickly, I rush to the bathroom, my heart racing, and close the door behind me. I look at myself in the mirror on the opposite wall and immediately wish I hadn’t. My red hair has been curled into locks that tumble over my shoulders. The top part is pinned back in four braids, twisted around each other like chains and clipped with a red jewel. Even my face is painted—I have makeup on to make my lashes bigger, my cheeks blushed and lips painted bright red.

I look ridiculous, and I hate it. Sickness rises in my throat, and I push the feeling down. I can’t be sick. I’ve barely eaten anything in days now. I feel a light cramp in my stomach and go to the toilet, putting my head in my hands as I weep until the makeup coats my fingertips. Eventually, when I know my time is running out to hide in here and cry, I sit up. When I glance down, I’m surprised to see my monthlies have come. There’s no pain, no anything—just a light cramp.

What in the deities above? A part of me is thankful I’m not in extreme pain, but another part wishes the pain was here. At least the pain could knock me out for a single blissful day of peace from this nightmare. Feeling confused, I open the cupboards but find nothing to help and groan. I have to ask one of the fae servants to fetch something, and they wince when they see the state of my face and all the makeup I’ve cried away. They return quickly with cotton pads, easy enough to attach to my underwear, before helping me back into the gown and fixing my face.

Even if it is beautifully made, the dress is the colour of blood, and I hate it. The corset down the middle looks like vampyre teeth, forming a line all the way up and around my breasts. It’s almost like a cage locking me in. I close my eyes as they finish lacing it and reach for the depths of my mind, for the two single souls in the world that belong to me. Ziven and Maeve, my dragon. My mate.

I reach for Ziven first, and even through the bond that I wish…I wish we’d made permanent, he is there. Echoing to me. I could follow this feeling right to him if I could leave. I love him, and being back here, back caged with Emyr in this horrid life, has made me realise how foolish I was. I had everything, and now I’m back to a life that Kyrell died to save me from. I can hear Maeve almost echoing in my mind, but she’s so distant, so many miles apart from me, and I know deep down she must be hurt or she would have flown to me by now. I hope she isn’t, and I’m desperate to get to her, to see her for myself. I can feel them both—but it’s like trying to catch embers of a fire within my soul, but the second I’m close, the feeling just fades into ash in my fingers.

I don’t even notice the fae servants leaving the room until I open my eyes and see Emyr standing in front of me, and myblood runs cold. “You look stunning,” he purrs, dipping his eyes down my body and back up. I want to cut those eyes out. I’m done. I don’t know what happens as my anger rises like a storm, don’t know where it comes from, but I throw myself at him and punch him in the face. The satisfaction of a crunch powers me into a second punch, and then I let myself lose on him. Hitting, kicking, fighting in the way I’ve been trained, and he fights me back. I block most of his attacks, even when he is stronger than me. I feel like there is power in my veins, power pushing me forward.

“Stop it! Fucking stop it—you’ll rip the dress!” He grabs hold of me and punches me back, straight into my stomach, and I miss the block. Pain radiates through me, and I scream, falling to my knees. He grabs my face roughly, his nails digging into my hair. His red shirt is ripped, his lip has a cut in it that is already healing, and blood is trickling from his nose. “You won’t fucking ever do that again!” he hisses into my face, but I’m reeling from the pain in my stomach. “You will be my wife—a queen that people will look up to and see the reason why fae do not win. They will look at you, not as a symbol of rebellion and hope, but as a broken-down blood slave who is proof that escaping and fighting us is pointless. You do that again, and I swear, I will bring in all the fae that just looked after you and behead them one by one. Then I will murder them, one after the other, until that defiance is gone in you. Then I’ll find random fae and keep killing them in your name until you behave. Do you understand?”

“You think death scares me?” I spit at him. “They’re already dead. We all are, or might as well be, while your father rules. While vampyres like you are in charge. You don’t scare me anymore, and death will not break me.”

“I should scare you,” he says, his voice cold and dangerous. “I think you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be mine. After this wedding, you will know.”

“No!” I shout, pulling away from him as he reaches for me. He lets me go. I rush to the balcony, but I don’t get far before he grabs my wrist and starts dragging me toward the doors. I fight him every step of the way.

“Enough!” he snarls, pulling me to his chest, and I slap him. Fury burns in his eyes and he screams into my face this time. “Fucking stop it!”

“NO!” I scream back at him, just as the wall collapses around us. Stone and bricks, dust and fire crash down in a thunderous roar, and a dragon’s roar shakes the air. A familiar roar. I scream in pain as several bricks smack into my body, and I fall through the building along with the wall. Dragon claws wrap around me midair, flames cascading everywhere around me like a tornado of fire. Emyr reaches for me, missing the fire by an inch, and his nails tear down my wrist, dragging through my skin and cutting it open, but he doesn’t get me.

I grip the golden scales of the dragon claw as it rises in the air, and its roar blocks out anything Emyr screams at me. I smile, holding on tight, feeling blood pouring down my wrists. I look up, stunned, as we ascend high into the sky until the clouds begin to smother us, and suddenly, there is nothing but cold air, the high sun in the sky, and Daegan’s dragon, complete with its rider, carrying me away into the sky.

“Twist, Odemis—I’ll catch her!” he commands his dragon, and I brace myself for it.

Odemis obeys, tightening his claw as he carries me, and then he dives before he throws me into the air. I scream, only for a moment, before I land on the dragon’s back, Daegan’s arms tightly wrapping around me, caging me to him. “Now fly fast. We need to reach our home before the sun sets.”