Page 64 of Crown of Storm and Silence
The ancient doors don't stop me—they simply cease to exist where I choose to enter, iron and oak vaporizing under the weight of my fury. Stone walls crack, mortar crumbles, and the very foundations of the tower groan as my power washes over them.
I follow the scent down stone steps that spiral into darkness, each step bringing me closer to the source of my torment. The basement opens before me, and what I see there completes my transformation from shadow lord to creature of absolute annihilation.
Nesilhan lies chained to the stone floor in the center of the chamber, her naked body bearing wounds that speak of systematic torture and feeding. Bite marks cover her throat, her wrists, her shoulders—anywhere veins run close to the surface. Blood streams from dozens of punctures, pooling beneath her on the cold stone.
Her head lolls to one side, dark hair matted with blood and sweat, consciousness flickering in and out as they've kept her on the edge of death for maximum feeding potential.
Banu lies motionless on the floor nearby, her delicate wings crumpled at unnatural angles, golden blood streaking down her small form. She's unconscious, perhaps dying, but breathing.
But it's the creature kneeling between my wife's spread legs that finally snaps whatever remained of my sanity.
An ancientObur,his serpentine tongue extended to its full obscene length, probing at her most intimate places while she hangs helplessly in her bonds. His pale hands grip her thighs, holding her open for his violation.
The other vampires watch with obvious arousal, some stroking themselves as they observe their leader's defilement of my wife. Their faces carry expressions of perverse satisfaction, feeding not just on blood but on the destruction of innocence itself.
The roar that erupts from my throat makes the ancient stones scream, carrying harmonics that crack reality itself. Before any of them can react, I'm moving—crossing the space between us faster than thought.
Elçin flows past me like liquid death, her blade singing through the air as she takes down two of the watching vampires before they can even register the threat. Her movements are poetry written in steel—each strike precise, lethal, beautiful. Storm-gray eyes burn with cold fury as she cuts through theOburwith the skill of someone who's done this before.
Emir rushes past me toward Banu's motionless form as I reach the feedingObur.
My hand closes around the feedingObur's skull, and I tear him away from my wife with such violence that his serpentine tongue rips partially free, blood spraying across the stone floor. He flies backward, crashing into the far wall with enough force to crack ancient stone.
I'm on him before he can recover, shadows erupting from my skin as I pin him against the wall. My hand shoots down to grip what hangs between his legs, and his eyes widen in belated understanding just as my fingers close around his manhood.
"You fed from my wife," I snarl, my grip tightening until my nails dig deep into sensitive flesh.
My fingers dig deeper, nails slicing through tender flesh like razors through silk. TheObur's eyes bulge with dawning horror as I twist my grip, feeling sinew tear and cartilage pop beneath my touch. His screams turn to gurgling shrieks as blood fills his throat.
The flesh gives way with a wet, tearing sound that sends savage satisfaction coursing through my veins. Muscle fibers snap like overstretched rope, blood vessels rupture in crimson geysers that spray across the ancient stones, and the organcomes free in my hand with a final, meaty rip that echoes off the chamber walls.
Hot blood pours between my fingers as he collapses, his hands scrabbling uselessly at the gaping wound between his legs. The copper scent fills my nostrils, feeds the darkness in my soul until I'm drunk on the violence, on the perfect justice of his agony.
"Now you get to eat, too," I growl, my voice carrying harmonics that make the stones themselves shudder.
My shadow-wrapped fingers pry his jaw apart with enough force to crack bone. His teeth scrape against my darkness as I force his mouth wide, wide enough to accommodate his own flesh. The raw organ slides past his lips with obscene ease, warm blood coating his tongue as his eyes roll back in revulsion.
He tries to spit it out, but my shadows clamp his jaw shut with the finality of a tomb. His throat works frantically, gagging, choking, desperate to expel what I've forced into him. But there's nowhere for it to go except down.
I feel every swallow through my shadows, feel his body convulse as he's forced to consume his own cock. The taste of his own blood fills his mouth, metallic and warm, while fragments of torn flesh catch in his throat and make him retch.
"Delicious, isn't it?" I whisper, my face inches from his bulging eyes. "You seemed so eager to taste what wasn't yours."
The satisfaction that floods through me is intoxicating, better than any drug, any shadow essence I've ever consumed. This is justice. This is what happens to creatures who dare touch what belongs to me.
My hand closes around his skull like a vise, fingers finding purchase in the thin bone of his temples. His eyes meet mine one final time—wide, terrified, full of the understanding that death has come for him.
The skull collapses inward with a wet crunch that reverberates through my bones. Brain matter explodes between my fingers in gray-pink chunks that splatter the walls in abstract patterns of gore. Blood and cerebrospinal fluid cascade down the stone in rivulets that catch the torchlight like liquid rubies.
His body drops like a broken marionette, twitching once before going still in the spreading pool of his own blood.
The remaining vampires scatter, fleeing up the stairs toward whatever exits they can find. I let them go. They don't matter now. Only she matters.
I drop to my knees beside Nesilhan, tearing away the chains that bind her with desperate urgency. Her blood has soaked the stone beneath her, forming dark pools that speak of life slipping away. Her breathing is so shallow it barely registers, her pulse fluttering against my fingertips like a dying bird.
"She's barely alive," Mikail says grimly, appearing beside me. "She needs healers quickly, or you'll lose them both."
"Askim," I whisper, gathering her broken form into my arms. "Beni duyuyor musun?"
