Chapter 5

~Blythe Gibson~

I looked up at him, stunned. My mouth hung open to speak, but no words came out.

“Feeder?” the man asked in disbelief, while inching away from me. “Y-your highness. There wasn’t a mark. I didn’t know she was–”

“Well, now, you know.” Ronan cut him off, looking down at him with a cold stare. 

He turned to the guards, his authority compelling them forward.

“And which one of you put her in chains?” he inquired, looking between the two.

“It was I.” The taller guard admitted.

Ronan’s face contorted into that of rage, his eyebrows pulled together and fist clenched before speaking up.

“Release her this instant.”

The culprit pulled out a key from his pocket, and unlocked the padlock that bound my arms and legs. The metal chains clattered to the ground with a loud thud, giving me the chance to access my wrists which were now bruised by the heavy chains.

I rubbed it to soothe the ache, while looking up at Ronan with fear and gratitude. 

After all, I had found myself in a den of lions, surrounded by creatures that could end me in a swift strike.

What Ronan did next, even I herself didn’t expect.

His eyes were on me the whole time. 

“What's your name?” He questioned.

“Blythe.” My voice came out low, making me sound unsure of my name.

“Trust me,” he whispered loud enough for only me to hear.

 He walked behind me, standing in the same position the other man had stood in, then leaned forward with speed, sinking his teeth into the side of my neck.

A gasp escaped my lips as my body tensed.

Murmurs and gasps rippled through the halls like a wave as guests spoke in hushed tones amongst themselves.

The bite came in a swift motion, like a predator’s kiss upon the skin. At first, it felt like two jarring needles plunging into my flesh by a great force, before dissolving into an uncomfortable pressure. 

Blood pooled in Ronan’s mouth, dripping down from the corner of his lips. It carried a heavy metallic aroma, mixed with something sweet. The smell of copper became sharp as fear buried at the pit of my stomach seeped into my blood.

Slowly, Ronan retracted his fangs, pulling out a white handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the bloodstains away.

A burning sensation spread across my neck, causing me to clutch it, hissing in pain as my knees hit the ground. 

My vision blurred as tears pooled at the corners of my eyes.

“Make it stop.”  I sobbed, clutching my neck harder. “It hurts so bad, please just make it stop. I don’t want to be part of this.”

Ronan went back in front of me, crouching down on one knee before tilting my head upwards to face him.

His eyes carried a certain softness—a type that should not be shown to one whom he had branded as a meal in his head. My face was writhing in pain—nose scrunched and eyebrows pressed together.  

Ronan leaned forward, bringing his face close to mine. I froze with my palm still on the side of my neck, eyes wide. My breath caught, torn between panic and a strange pull I couldn't explain.

My body remembered the pain, the sharp sting of his fangs, yet the nearness of him now felt different. 

 He didn’t stop till his lips brushed past my ears, stopping right above my arm. 

“Drop your arm,” he murmured as his cold breath fanned against my skin. “I’ll make it stop.”

At first, I clutched it tighter, but the unbearable pain made me falter, my fingers prying off one by one till my bare skin was exposed.

My breath hitched as he found the curve of my neck.

 The sudden press of his lips sent shivers down my spine as heat flushed my cheeks. His tongue glided across the pierced areas causing the surface to sting before a cooling sensation washed over me.

My shoulder sagged, easing the  built up tension. He let his lips linger there for a bit before pulling away.

My finger reached up to graze the spot where his lips had been, before meeting his eyes. The rapid rising and falling of my chest betrayed fear and something much more. 

Heat rushed up to my cheeks, the moment I realized he hadn’t looked away. Not once.

It was then my mind registered all that had occurred, and in front of a crowd.

I turned my gaze to the ground, hoping I'd close her eyes, open them and wake up from this terrible nightmare I had found myself in.

Ronan stood to his feet, putting an outstretched arm out to me, which after a second of reluctance, I took.

“As everyone knows, the king’s feeder carries the mark of a bleeding rose,” he started, his voice booming through the hall, carrying a wave of authority. “Which she now has.”

“I what?!” I yelled. 

Ronan shot me a warning glare. My eyes widened in realization before clamping my palm down on my lips.

I made a mental note to check it out in the mirror of the room I had been in.

“No excuses will be made for anyone who dares to feed on her.”

His eyes racked across the room, like he was searching for something till it landed on a maid standing in the corner with a tray of wine.

“You,” he called out, signalling for her to come forward. “Come forward.”

She placed the tray on a long dining table,keeping her eyes trained on the ground as she made her way towards him.

“Take her to the room on the east wing that has been prepared for her.” He said, nodding his head at me.

I looked down at the maid who had her head bowed down the whole time she was being spoken to.  She was around the same age as me. Maybe even older.

My eyes surveyed  the lady’s small frame, trying to figure out if she was human or one of them till my gaze fell on her neck. A mark that resembled a bat wing was grafted at the corner. It was faint, but noticeable.

The maid looked up, catching my eyes, before speaking.

“This way, ma’am.” she gestured with an outstretched arm.

A hand fell on my shoulder before I could take a step forward.

It was Ronan.

He leaned over my shoulder, his hot breath fanning my ear.

“Don’t step out of your room. I can’t keep saving your ass every single second.”

I nodded. 

He was right. I had managed to put my life in danger faster than an unmonitored baby in one night. 

“And also,” he said, his voice a tempo lower, “Don’t go about asking questions you won't like the answer to.”

This time, I didn’t say anything. A tight lipped smile was given in return, before I turned around to follow the maid.

With every step I took, the redness of my cheeks brightened as the walk to the door felt like that of a humiliation ritual. All eyes were on me like a prey that was easy to read through. 

Once we were out of sight, and into the quiet hall that had a few guards watching our every move, I finally asked the one question that had been on my mind.

“Um,  can phones be charged here?”

The maid stopped in her tracks, turned around and looked at me like she just grew a second head.

Her mouth widened like she had a snarky remark curated for me, but decided against it.

“Well, yes and no. But mostly no.”  Her voice was sharp, bolder than it was in front of Ronan.  She continued walking, taking them towards the hallway that led to the room I was locked in. “The force of magic protecting this realm is way too strong for electricity or connection to the internet. I mean, look at this place.  Coal gas for chandeliers?”

I wanted to laugh at her tone of disbelief till a word caught my attention.

“Realm? What do you mean?”

The maid paused with her fingers working the door knob. 

“Let’s not ask questions we may not like the answer to…shall we?” She said, referring to Ronan’s words earlier.

My mouth clamped shut, following her into the room.

It was simple, but better than what I had grown accustomed to in the city.

The gasolier hung heavy and unlit, catching in rays of the moonlight that filtered in. A taper holder held a single candle that stood unlit with a matchbox by its side, while a chair sat beside the bed, as if inviting her to sit and take in the view. 

I walked in and  paused at the threshold, the air carrying that crisp scent of vinegar and lavender. My pulse quickened at the thought of what this space might become. 

“If you need anything, just ring the handbell by the table.” she said, breaking me from my line of thoughts, while pointing to the little golden bell that sat neatly behind a stack of books on the table. “A fresh set of pajamas are in the closet, and if you need to have your bath, quickly run to the wash room down the hall.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, my eyes tarrying on the bell knowing I didn’t ever plan on using it except in cases of emergencies. “I’m Blythe by the way. You are?”

“Selene.”

“Are you a vampire?” I blurted out, not breaking eye contact.

“No.” Selene responded. “Goodnight, Blythe.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper, before she stepped out, shutting the door quietly behind her.

All the tension finally eased off my shoulders the moment I was alone. 

A cold shower would do, but the events left me exhausted. I flopped onto the bed with my back, rubbing my temples every now and then.

My mind kept drifting off to my brother, but hours later, the muffled sounds from the ceremony were drowned out the moment my eyelids became droopy.

Until…

The air shattered with a blood curling scream.

My eyes tore open to meet the curtains held back, leaving the room steeped in shadows. Only the faint outline of the dresser and the curve of the bed broke the darkness. 

The screaming didn’t stop. Instead, another voice joined in voicing out the anguish.

Now, I had more reason to feel like something had definitely gone wrong.