Page 114 of The Exiled Dragon

“I am happy with Creed.” My voice shook. His fingers that swiped my clean cheek fell away, and a balled fist replaced it. His lips pressed firm, now just a line of disappointment spread.

“It is just the bond talking, lovely. What we had is much more special than that, don’t you remember?” Shaking my head, my hair fell around my face, the sweat perspiring across my hairline. Duke Mortus sighed, standing on the bed.

“There is a lot to tell you, and I fear this bond will interfere with your authentic emotions. Once it is removed, you will see my way.”

My heart was beating out of my chest. This Vampire was crazy. Why would I ever have a bond with him?

“On the third month of having you at my mansion, I realized how much I had fallen for your bewitching looks, smell, taste.” His tongue licked his dry lips, watching me. “I had ordered the servants to put you into a guest room, so I could properly court you. Seeing you every night was the greatest pleasure of my existence. That is until I found out they never put you in the room I had assigned you to be in.” His knuckles turned white, the silver-clad rings clinking together.

“I have failed you in that regard, and I beg for your forgiveness.” I stood frozen, gripping the silk comforter beneath me.

“Please forgive me.” He landed on his knees at the side of the bed, gripping my hand. His eyes pleaded, pulling on my hand to place a cold, gentle kiss.

The guy was a psycho.

“Please, please,” he begged again. My head glanced to the door and back to him. Those glowing red eyes continued to eat me alive.

“I’ll forgive you if you let me go,” I muttered, barely able to keep my composure. He chuckled.

“But my lovely, I can never let you go. You are my beloved. It has been decided you will return with me to Vermillion, where a new nation will rise, and you will have the finest things.” I stopped breathing, trying to take my hand away from the chills of fear running up and down my arm.

“Think of it, a new nation. You and I will be second in line to the throne. I will decorate you with jewels, give you the most beautiful dresses, and shower you with gifts and love. I will worship the ground you walk on.” A creepy smile played on his lips. His fangs quivered as he neared me.

Shaking my head, I continued to pull my hand away until he gently let go, standing in front of me.

“This bond, it ruins your perception of me. That Dragon stole you away and now clouds the love I know you have for me.” His breath deepened, pinching his nose. A blood-red tear left his eye. “I am not angry with you; you could not help it. You did it to survive because you are a survivor, Odessa. That is why I cherish you so.”

My Dragon roared a painful cry, continuing to try and pull my claws out of my body. “I didn’t do it to survive. Creed, The Black Dragon is my mate,” I said confidently. “I love him, and he loves me. Can I just be happy with him?”

The Duke contorted his face as if he had eaten something sour, picking up the lamp on the bedside table and crashing it into the windowless brick walls. Flinching, I felt an anger boil inside that wasn’t mine. Creed must know I was missing. He had to.

Dangerously quiet whispers left the Duke’s lips, my Dragon’s hearing muted to the insane words leaving his mouth. Whatever magic they put on me had clouded whatever Dragon strength I had gained. Concentrating, I began to call on my Dragon to give me the strength to procure that magical ball of light. My lower eye twitched, pushing further into me, all for it to fizzle away before that heat could leave my palms.

I’m failing.

Feeling rage, undeniable, unspeakable rage, had my Dragon thrashing inside, growling tore up my throat and leaving my lips. The Duke turned, his hair now a mess of tangles from his fingers pulling on his hair. “What was that?” Shaking my head, I tried to rub my chest, calming the frustration.

“Your Dragon; your Dragon, gives you these empty feelings. Once we put her to sleep, it will all be better; it will.” His voice laced with promise. His eyes, those blood-red eyes, had me frozen. What was it that Cyrene had told me? Not to be afraid, to build confidence in me, I was stronger than this. I had to push through. But could I push through the black magic?

Each time I called my beast, she roared in irritation, unable to break through the wall of magic. “Bring in the demon Witch!” the Duke yelled from across the room. His pacing, making me more nervous by the second, halted as the old wooden door groaned open. The same witch that stood behind the Vampire who dared put her dirty hands over my mouth stood smiling. Her teeth, white as snow and lipstick as black as the sky without stars, she giggled, watching the Duke in his state.

“Oh, you have it bad, Duke Mortus.” Her gentle sway in the seductive outfit she wore didn’t falter. His red eyes looked down at her face, avoiding the breasts that dared to overflow her leather corset bodice. “You have my payment?” Her low husky voice and the finger trailing down the Duke’s opened tunic made me gag. Sure, she was a beautiful woman, but the blackness of her presence had me repulsed.

“Of course.” His hand went to his waistband. A vial of red blood was handed to her dirty fingers. Opening the vial, she took a long, passionate breath in.

“Alpha’s blood,” she hummed. “Excellent, and I assume the rest is enroute?” The Duke’s stare, one I had seen many times before he struck his long fingernails into an unsuspecting servant or blood bag, flashed across his face. A snarl left his mouth, fangs bared.

“You doubt me?” He growled, his fangs hanging over his lips. The Witch only fiddled with the vial, laughing without care.

“I was just checking; no need to get your panties in a twist. Now is this her?” Her eyes looked at me, disgusted. “You sure? You could probably do better.” The duke pulled a rag from his pocket. It looked familiar, actually, it was because it was the same rag I used to cover myself in the cell. Small, tattered, barely covering my body even when curled into a ball.

Tears brimmed in my eyelids; my hands covered my mouth. He would never let me go. This bastard would hunt me down for the rest of my days. His nose came up to the rag, inhaling it deeply, giggling to himself. My scent was his drug, and I would never get away unless I did something. No time to wait for rescue. I was going to get out of here.

“I am sure, and once this bond is removed, she will see it too.” The Witch hummed, then ticked her lips in amusement. “Hurry, Morgana, I don’t have all day,” the Duke spat.

“It will hurt. Are you prepared to see your little beloved in pain? Breaking bonds can be…” Morgana studied me up and down. “Quite painful, and the demon that inhabits my body is unforgiving.” Morgana’s long black nails picked between her teeth.

“D-demon?” I breathed. Morgana walked to the bed, the Duke letting her get closer.

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