Chapter - 4

NINA

As Eros guides me inside the castle, I feel myself sinking deeper into a world of darkness. The sound of my footsteps echoes through the shadowy corridors as I try to memorize the path he takes with me. The royal family did not follow us, leaving us alone, as if they expected something—or knew something I didn’t yet. I struggle to absorb this new reality I’m entering.

With every step deeper into the castle, the atmosphere grows heavier; shadows dance around me as if they have a life of their own. Some curl around my wings, and I could swear I feel their cold, caressing touch. The smell is of mold, old and rotten from the lack of light there.

Eros turns into another corridor, lit only by a few candles nestled in the stone crevices. His steps are silent, as if he were floating over the dark stone floor. I feel small and fragile beside him; my height reaches his chin, my wings certainly make me taller, but my body is much smaller than his.

Echoes of conversation become present as I enter another corridor, this one a little brighter; the windows are larger, letting in some light, even if somber—but light. The voices are macabre, the laughter sinister. It feels as though the castle itself is alive.

Eros stops at a dark wooden door adorned with symbols I know mean “My room, my life,” but what does he mean by that?

My heart races when he opens the door, revealing his bedroom to me; I realize what he intends to do. He wants to feed on me on the very first day, without giving me a chance to rest or process all this. His hand drags me inside without any courtesy, and I see a bed draped in black sheets, gray walls, and red carpets.

Eros stares at me intensely; his red eyes like two rubies gleam as a sardonic smile spreads across his lips. He closes the door without taking his eyes off me, and I can’t look away from his. Slowly, he approaches, his malicious smile revealing sharp fangs. I back away, back away until my back hits the wall, leaving me cornered.

“You don’t understand, half-breed female,” he says, drawing closer, placing his hands on the wall, one on each side of my body, staring at me. “You were made for me, to satisfy me however I wish. I waited a long time—longer than I should have—to taste your blood in my mouth.”

My body begins to tremble at his words, but something inside me refuses to accept it in silence. Maybe it’s my stubbornness, or those eyes staring at me with such voracity that make me draw courage from where I didn’t know I had.

“I’m not a half-breed,” I say and take a deep breath. “I’m a hybrid, Prince Eros. You should know that.” He twists his smile and looks at me as if analyzing me. For a few seconds, I feel the air leave me while he bites his lower lip.

“Your big mouth might get you in trouble, female. Here, you’re only to serve me, not to talk back,” he retorts with a firm voice, laced with authority.

“I know why I came here; I grew up knowing it. But that doesn’t mean I have to accept it quietly,” I say, holding his gaze.

He slides his hand across my face, tracing my cheek. Then he pulls my hair aside, exposing my neck. I feel a muscle tremor, and the racing beat of my heart nearly suffocates me. His finger runs over my jugular vein, under the skin, as if mapping it. In doing so, I turn my face, making it even more exposed and vulnerable to his action.

“Your blood calls to me like a soft melody, full of desire,” he murmurs slowly and runs his nose along my skin, sending a shiver through me, making me release the breath I was holding.

He opens his mouth, revealing his larger canines. His eyes become shrouded in a black mist. I know this is it.

I close my eyes; my throat burns. Yet I feel no fangs. I open my eyes and see him looking at the door, which soon receives two knocks, and I can hear a voice from the other side.

“She’s not ready yet, cousin. She needs to purify her blood, or do you want a stomachache in the middle of the night?”

I breathe deeply, relieved, trying to control my fear. I need to be strong; I know I do. My mother told me to obey him and the king, but I can’t. I can’t stay silent.

“I’m not your property, nor your object. I have my own will and decide how I want to serve—or not. You need to learn to respect that,” I say with a firm voice, even though it’s trembling.