Page 32 of Blood Bond

His jaw clenches; Donovan meets her gaze directly. "You smell like him," he blurts out harshly.

Katherine frowns, and she instinctively starts to retreat, but Donovan grabs her wrist, his grip painfully tight. Leaning in closer, his vision tinged with red at the proximity, his anger surges. "You dare to make a mockery of me and my family, after all we've done to keep you away from the bathhouses."

Katherine gasps. “You’re hurting me.”

He jerks her close. “Get used to it.”

ChapterTwenty-Four

Despite my exhaustion, sleep eludes me. My head throbs with an intensity that feels like it might burst, and the weariness I feel offers no comfort. My eyes sting from a lack of rest, burning as if they’re on fire. I’ve lost track of time since I last slept – has it been one day or two?

The last time I truly rested was on the hard floor of the Hollow’s basement. Even then, it wasn't proper sleep. Nico had roused me from that uneasy slumber, helping me to escape before the others woke up. Just thinking about Nico hurts. It twists my stomach into knots, souring something inside me at the thought of what might be happening to him, what has already happened. I close my eyes, imagining him there, almost as if I can reach out and see him.

The mere prospect of Nico being hurt, or worse, torments me. The images haunt me. In my mind, I place him in a place like where his mother had kept me – dark, damp, the smell of urine in a bucket. I taste blood on my lips and feel aches in my body. I’m so tired …

I sigh heavily and roll onto my side, selfishly yearning for sleep to whisk me away from my own torturous thoughts and the anguish they bring.

If only this were all just a dream, a mere illusion I could wake from. But that would also mean leaving Seth behind. Where would I even wake up? Back at Crevan’s place, still his plaything, or in a room in Seth’s sanctuary, treated like a pampered little princess?

Lying here, the coolness of the cotton sheets beneath me offers a small comfort. Regret gnaws at me – I should’ve demanded Seth rescue Nico too, not just me. Nico, just a boy, had shown courage in helping me, defying his own mother. And what had I done in return? In my escape, I had left him behind, alone and vulnerable. This realisation, the acknowledgment of my failure to save him, is a bitter pill to swallow.

I abandoned him.

"I'm sorry," I whisper into the dark room, filled with regret. The light flickers around me, emanating from the fireplace Theo lit. Mesmerised, I watch the flames dance and listen to the wood crackle, the only sounds breaking the silence.

Theo had noticed my shivering when he led me to my room. "I'll light a fire for you," he’d offered. "These large rooms can get quite chilly with little activity." I initially declined, insisting I didn't need it, but Theo persisted, and I eventually stopped objecting. Maybe I am the spoilt princess Naneve accuses me of being. She never mentions it when Seth is around, but her cautious glances and contemptuous eyes don't escape me.

Naneve is out on patrol, defying orders to rest and sleep. She's adamant about ensuring safety, refusing to relax her guard. "What use is the king's guard if she sleeps and allows him to be slaughtered?" she had declared. And in her unwavering determination, there was simply no room for argument.

Killian had told her she could take the first watch, then he would take the next and she was to sleep then. "What good is a king’s guard if she's too exhausted to guard him and he ends up slaughtered anyway?"

Tasha is down the hall and Naneve nearby.

Although I crave solitude, the silence feels strange, almost too isolating. My mind buzzes with thoughts, a tangled mess I struggle to unravel. And then there's Elena – I sense something different about her. She's unlike the thirsty, yet there's a similarity I can't quite define.

Lying in bed, I wrap the blanket around my waist and draw my knees to my chest. The room's darkness contrasts with the chaos outside. I feel as if I'm enveloped in night, despite knowing the truth lies beyond the walls and windows.

Compelled to see the outside world, I swing my legs out of bed. My bare feet touch the cold, hard floor, and I tiptoe to the window, where heavy black and red drapes shield the vast pane.

Peeking through them, the sun's brilliance strikes me forcefully. Its intense light blinds, showing no mercy to those beneath its scorching rays. The sky, an endless canvas of azure blue, radiates sheer brightness. The sun, a radiant sphere of light, dominates the sky with a merciless glare, threatening to incinerate anything daring to face it.

As I squint through the window, the sun's harsh rays force my eyes to water and cause a throbbing headache. I can't help but marvel at how the trees and flowers in this place have managed to thrive. Most vegetation withers under direct sunlight, turning into nothing more than skeletal remains.

The only time I had ever seen flowers thriving was in Craven's greenhouse, an artificial sanctuary where vampires and humans could mimic basking in natural daylight. Maybe Seth had implemented something similar at Skin Trade, a clever illusion designed to protect the flora from the sun's lethal touch while keeping us sheltered. It strikes me that vampires might maintain gardens not for the love of nature, but to ensure their food source – humans – remains comfortable and content.

Outside the grey walls, the sun's brilliance washes over the landscape, rendering it surreal and otherworldly. The fiery tendrils of the sun's corona create an ethereal halo, intensifying the aura with palpable energy. The sky shimmers with overwhelming heat, distorting the distant scenery into wavering mirages.

The thought of stepping out into the searing sunlight reminds me of the pain Seth endured when the sun caught him. My heart aches with guilt for having run out, compelling him to chase after me, leading to his burns. It's a constant reminder that my actions, despite being unintentional, often cause pain to others—a burden of guilt I carry with me.

I let the curtain fall back into place, sealing the room in darkness once again, leaving only the comforting glow of the fire as my companion. I turn away from the window, intending to return to bed and surrender to sleep. Perhaps exhaustion will overtake me, offering a respite from these heavy thoughts.

However, instead of heading back to my bed, I find myself drawn to the double doors. Opening one panel, faint light spills into the room from beyond, illuminating a bed and the figure lying upon it.

With a quiver of uncertainty in my gut, I tread through the dark room, guided by the dim light of the fire glow. The cold floor that once chilled my feet now offers relief as I step onto a soft, lavish rug.

Before me lies Seth, grounded in slumber. His eyes are closed, head tilted back, and his dark hair still glistens from Elena's treatment. The burns that had earlier marred his face are gradually healing, becoming less menacing. They even seem to accentuate his already handsome features, giving him a more chiselled look.

I can't help but wonder if Seth dreams during these moments of rest. Does sleep for a vampire resemble an abyss devoid of visions? Perhaps they drift into a state where time and consciousness hold no sway, a realm of nothingness with no awareness of their surroundings or actions. As I approach, he appears almost human, vulnerable, and a stark contrast to the commanding figure I usually see him as.

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