Page 48 of To Dwell in Shadows
“Y-you had a perfectly adequate life in Aurelia. Enough food to eat, shelter, and few enemies.” His voice rose with desperation. “And wasn’t it there that you found your beloved human? I did you a favor, taking you from this godforsaken place!”
“A favor?” Sam’s hand shot through the bars and closed around Zaybris’s throat. The vampire’s flesh squelched wetly beneath his grip, fragile and decayed. Sam had to remind himself not to squeeze too hard, not yet.
Just as he had practiced in the Sanctum, he gathered all the pain inside of him into a pulsating ball of energy. He didn’t need to dig deep to access it—it was always there, just beneath the surface. But as it surged out of him and into Zaybris, something strange happened.
His suffering poured out as flashes of searing color.
Black for fear. The fear I felt when I woke up to see Zaybris looming over my bed. For the terror that consumed me when he grabbed me, then plunged me into the abyss of darkness. Black for the horror of beingabandoned in an unknown realm, not knowing where I was or how to get home. Black for every moment of blinding panic I ever felt in Aurelia, even after I had escaped the blood wagons.
Blue for loneliness. Icy, bleak, bitter loneliness. The loneliness of being the only one of my kind. The loneliness I felt when Aurelians would look at me and quake with fear. For all the times I watched everyone around me dance and fall in love at Queen Thema’s balls. Blue for the nights I spent alone in my chambers, comforting myself with texts describing acts of love I was certain I’d never experience. Blue for the pain of being ripped away from my mother’s affection and denied my father’s guidance.
Red for anger. Blistering, throbbing, vivid anger. Red for the volatile emotions I still struggle to control. For the trauma and sheer injustice of what was done to me as an innocent boy. Red for how my demonic instincts are a burden in Aurelia — a defect I was expected to overcome in exchange for grudging acceptance.
White for hopelessness. The absence of color, light, or meaning. White for the day I accepted that I would never reclaim what was taken from me. For all the nights I shivered in the wagon next to Eldridge, unable to imagine a life that wasn’t filled with misery. White for the many years I lived without joy, comfort, and peace because of one vampire’s selfishness.
Sam’s body trembled, every muscle quivering under the strain of channeling so much heartache. Yet his grip on the vampire’s throat never wavered.
At first, Zaybris had screamed. Long, guttural wails of agony that rang through the dark halls. The other souls began to wail too, echoing the suffering of both Zaybris and Sam. But as the tide of Sam’s memories and emotions crashed over him, the vampire’s screams faltered. They fractured into gasps, choked sobs, and eventually, silence.
Finally, Zaybris just stared, lips parted, eyes wide with something closer to understanding than fear. When Sam felt the last reserves of his power flicker and fade, he released his grip. Zaybris crumpled to the stone floor, thudding against the cold ground.
Sam looked down at him, chest still heaving. He braced himselffor the rush of satisfaction he had dreamed of—the thrill of justice fulfilled, the victory of vengeance complete.
But it never came.
There was no triumph. No relief.
Just emptiness.
All Sam could feel now was a cold, aching void.
He rested his forehead against the bars, struggling to reconcile the emotions he’d anticipated with the stark weight of reality. He stayed there for a long time. Then, when he couldn’t bear to be in the vaults a moment longer, he called out, “Vanthee?”
Within seconds, she appeared from around the corner, rushing toward him. Her expression was awed. “Oh, Samael, that was absolutely magnificent. I’ve never seen such?—”
“Were you watching?”
“I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see you in your full power!”
“I said I wanted to be alone.”
“I know, but… what’s done is done, and I don’t regret a second of it.” Boldly, she placed a hand on his chest and stepped closer. “Let me take you to my chambers to unwind. I have wine, or perhaps you’d like me to bathe you?”
Sam ripped her hand away. He was tired of being polite, especially to someone who didn’t respect his wishes during such a private moment. “Stop! Selene is my mate and the only one I want to be with!”
The enticement in Vanthee’s gaze shifted to fury. “She can’t love you as I would!”
Sam backed away irritably. He felt too drained to argue with her, especially when he knew a long stair-climb back up awaited them. “Just take me back to my chambers. I need to see Selene.”
“Of course,” she said in a clipped tone. “But at this hour, she’s probably working in the library.”
“What do you mean, working?” Sam snapped. “Did someone dare to assign the princess consortchores?”
“No, it was her choice. When I took her on a tour of the palace,she was shocked by the library’s poor conditions, so she took on its revitalization as a project. She visits the hounds most mornings and works in the library throughout the afternoon.”
Sam gave a terse nod. Realizing he had no idea how Selene had been spending her time for the past two weeks made his gut churn with shame. What kind of a mate was he for not making an effort to connect with Selene every day?
“Take me to her.”
