Page 96 of Vow of the Undead
Like that first day, the faint whiff of sweet wine filled my nose along with a sickening tang.
Blood? I’d never smelled the thick liquid in King Drakkar’s goblet before, but now it surrounded me and curdled my stomach more and more with every breath.
A bang radiated throughout the room and sent shocks through my skeleton. I froze and didn’t dare breathe until I identified the source of the sound. The king had slammed his goblet down on the throne’s armchair, sending the clang echoing against the tall ceiling. He released an exaggerated sigh with a quiet string of curses.
I drew careful breaths and tried another step forward. If I rounded the throne, I wouldn’t be able to reach him fast enough. I wanted to get in front of him in order to compelhim. The only compulsion I’d done without looking into the vampire’s eyes was waking them, which was so much more exhausting and difficult than simply speaking right at them.
I had to see him first.
And thankfully, he wanted to see me.
I’d approach as his betrothed, not his huntress. Lying came easy for me. Way too easy. And as long as I didn’tdesirehim, my thoughts would stay hidden.
Pausing halfway to the throne, I lifted my skirts and tucked the stake between my leg and the chain again. I brushed my braid and the remaining loose hair over my shoulder. Straightening, I swallowed the bitterness staining the back of my tongue.
I had to lie.
This was a good lie. If that were possible.
My father said the lie I’d been telling my whole life was a good lie. But my father wasn’t a good man.
I had to either lie to get in front of the king, or risk him attacking me. If I didn’t manage to compel him first, I didn’t stand a chance.
It was always lie or die.
My pulse thudded faster and faster.Fuck.This wasn’t the time to spiral. I squeezed my eyes shut and felt every aching beat.
Don’t think about it.
Except I couldn’t stop. King Drakkar already knew the truth.You sure like to lie, Silver. Want to share your real name?
I was Silver. This Call from Freya and Odin proved it. Gold and silver, pure metals were weapons against the undead. I was a weapon.
I am Silver.
I am his betrothed.
I want to marry King Drakkar.
The lies stacked in my mind like cuts of wood ready to be incinerated in a fireplace. King Drakkar sighed again. Thegoblet clinked against the bronze throne as he picked it up again. From my angle, I saw only his hand as it swiped the cup.
This was for Ragna, for my mother, for the witches and all Exiles. I straightened and forced myself to round the throne.
He sat low in the chair with his legs spread wide. His eyes sliced to me and he said nothing as I took light steps to stand before him. The flat line of his mouth ticked up ever so slightly.
Since I wasn’t running and hiding away from him, he likely assumed I was here to accept his hand.
I dropped into a faint curtsy, not low enough to dislodge the stake from my thigh. Dipping my head, I offered feigned respect.
“Silver.” His voice pulsed around me. “I knew you’d come back. Can I finally call you my wife without you biting back at me?”
The lying started now. My blood turned to ice.
I straightened and met his eyes, as cold as my chilled veins. Swallowing, I lifted my chin. “Yes.”
For a second, he didn’t move, didn’t blink. He didn’t meet my acceptance with an arrogant smile as expected.
In another breath, he bolted forward. I gasped when he was already upon me, his hand at my throat, cutting off the air I grasped for.
