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Chapter 7
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Pureblood Traitor, Five Years Burned Never Broken Chapter 9
Mallory’s POV“No! Mallory, please, have mercy!”Lilith’s head slammed against the marble floor of the Joint Tribunal.Blood ran from her forehead, staining the cold stone.The elders of two great clans stood on either side of the hall. The air was thick with a heavy, oppressive silence.I sat on the high throne. Alistair sat beside me.His powerful presence filled the hall, making every Crimson Moon elder afraid to even breathe too loudly.I looked down at the woman who had once been so triumphant.Now she was just a dying insect, squirming at my feet.“Owen made me do it! I never wanted to!” Lilith shrieked, still trying to shift the blame.I let out a cold laugh. The sound was sharp in the silent hall.“Take her to the Sunken Church,” I commanded. My tone allowed no argument.Lilith’s body was wracked with a violent tremor. Her eyes went wide with terror. “No! Just kill me! Please!”“Use the silver shackles,” I said, staring into her terrified eyes. “Chain her in the exact spot wher
Pureblood Traitor, Five Years Burned Never Broken Chapter 8
Mallory’s POV“Should she die, or should she wish she were dead?” Alistair stood by the massive window, his long fingers toying with a lock of my hair.The storm outside had been raging for three days and three nights.The wind howled. And just outside the Pale Moon castle gates, the once-proud Prince of the Crimson Moon knelt in the mud.I swirled the pureblood vintage in my glass.The deep red liquid slid down the crystal, looking just like the blood I had lost in that dungeon.“Are they still out there?” I asked, my voice casual.“Three days and three nights,” Alistair said, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.His low voice held a note of cruel amusement. “Shall I turn them to ash for you?”“No.” I set down my glass. A cold smile touched my lips. “Open the gates.”Outside the gates.Owen was soaked to the bone.His expensive, handmade suit, once immaculate, was caked in mud.His knees were ground into the sharp flagstones.In his hands, he clutched a thick, heavy iron cha
Pureblood Traitor, Five Years Burned Never Broken Chapter 7
Owen’s POVThe moment Alistair took Mallory from me, it felt like a part of my soul was ripped out.The feeling was hell.Crash!I smashed my fist into the third antique mirror in the master suite.Sharp shards of glass flew everywhere.Lilith shrieked and scrambled to the corner of the bed.“Owen, are you insane?” she cried, clutching a silk sheet to her chest, her voice trembling.I ignored her.I was a caged animal. Pacing. Restless.The bond was gone.The moment Mallory truly left the Crimson Moon lands, my pride, my sanity, it all went with her.I gasped for air, an unbearable thirst burning my throat.I needed it. I needed the blood that I was so addicted to. Only that taste could calm me.I spun around and strode to the bed.I grabbed Lilith by the ankle and dragged her across the mattress. She shrieked, scrambling to get away.I didn’t hear her. I tore the sheet away, my fangs snapping out.I plunged them into her slender neck.I drank greedily.And then I froze.There was no i
Pureblood Traitor, Five Years Burned Never Broken Chapter 6
Inside the Pale Moon castle, the fire in the hearth burned away five years of cold.The heavy oak doors were shut. Alistair had dismissed every servant who tried to help.He placed me gently on a massive bed covered in soft, black velvet.I flinched, instinctively trying to hide the deep, silver-burned wound on my right arm.“Don’t hide from me, Mallory,” Alistair’s voice was low and commanding.He took off his suit jacket and knelt by the bed. His large frame filled my vision.He didn’t care about the stench of rot or the dried mud on my skin.He brought a basin of warm water infused with healing herbs, and began to clean my wounds himself.His touch was impossibly gentle, wiping away the black, poisoned blood as if he were polishing a priceless work of art.For five years, I had known only the sting of the lash, Owen’s cruel taunts, the bite of cold chains.This was the first touch I had felt that held no malice.The silver poison flared deep in the wound. I gasped, my body wracked w
Pureblood Traitor, Five Years Burned Never Broken Chapter 5
I clutched the amber shard, its sharp edges digging into my palm.Black and red blood dripped onto the cold hardwood floor.From the grand hall below, I could hear laughter.The clinking of glasses.“To the most beautiful mistress of the Crimson Moon,” I heard Owen’s low voice toast.Lilith’s coy laugh followed. “Oh, Owen, you spoil me.”They were celebrating. Their happiness. My destruction.I closed my eyes, letting the silver poison’s fire consume me.I wanted nothing. I felt no attachment to this house, this prison.Suddenly, a cataclysmic boom tore through the castle’s quiet evening.The entire building shuddered.The massive crystal chandelier swayed wildly.The heavy iron front doors were blasted inward by a terrifying force of raw, dark energy.The shriek of twisting metal ripped through the night as shattered iron flew like shrapnel into the walls.I pushed myself up, crawling to the edge of the hallway to look down.Ten heavily armed Crimson Moon guards were slammed against t
Pureblood Traitor, Five Years Burned Never Broken Chapter 4
Cain’s boot ground into the floor.The chain was broken. The blood-amber was a dozen jagged shards.I stared at the ruined relic. The only thing I had left of my mother.“Cain,” I whispered.He stepped back, his chest heaving. “Don’t say my name.”My right arm was screaming.When he had stormed in and snatched the pendant from Lilith, his shoulder had slammed directly into the fresh, silver-burned wound.Hot, black blood was soaking through my tattered prison tunic.A single drop slid down my elbow and splattered on the hardwood, right next to a broken piece of amber.“You’re bleeding on the floor,” Lilith pointed out, her voice dripping with disgust. She tightened the sash of her lace robe.I ignored her.My eyes were fixed on my son.I looked at the hand that had just destroyed my mother’s pendant.I remembered that same hand as a child’s, clutching my finger.But there was no warmth in the tall teenager standing before me now.“That was your grandmother’s,” I said, my voice barely a
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