Page 19 of House of Darkness
ESTRELLA
The first sensation that pierced through my consciousness was an unbearable itching—a searing burn slicing across my body, especially in my palms. I tried to clench my fists to relieve the discomfort, but something blocked the movement, stubbornly refusing to allow my fingers to close.
A gentle touch curled around my hands. “Don’t do that.”
I snapped my eyes open.
I was back in my room. Everything remained as I had left it: the gray light of an overcast day streamed through the open curtains, the blanket lay folded on the floor by my favorite window, and the chamberstick rested in its usual spot on my nightstand. The only new addition was the man sitting beside me.
Seeing Roman in daylight felt surreal. He always looked out of place, but now the light seemed to bend away from him, as if his very essence demanded the shadows.
His eyes were fixed on my hands, which he held in his. He had just removed the bandages, revealing a patchwork of scabs, hardened and crusted. My movements had caused some of them to crack, and trails of blood trickled through the valleys of my palms. Memories surged into my mind, stealing my breath in a ragged gasp. I could feelthe monster’s claws tearing at my flesh, the futile struggle I had made. It had been a helpless feeling, familiar yet tinged with a new shade of despair. The flicker of hope I had clung to had been extinguished. I was prey in a world of predators. The only reason I was alive was because of Roman.
“You saved me,” I whispered.
He glanced at me briefly before returning his gaze to my hand. He picked up a jar of cream with a strong, earthy scent from the floor and smeared a dollop onto my cracked skin. “Of course.”
“I didn’t know vampires would attack me. I thought it was illegal to hunt humans.”
“It is,” he said, “but that town is a haven for banished vampires. There’s no system for vampires outside the Houses, so they struggle to survive. And a starving vampire cares little for legalities.” He began wrapping my hand with fresh gauze, the soft fabric sticking to the salve now covering my palm.
“Oh.” I winced as he unpeeled the bandage from my other hand, the fresh air stinging my raw injuries. “He said he wanted to sell me at market.”
Roman made a disgusted sound in his throat, though his tone remained cold and monotone. “Black market acolyte sales. Many vampires can’t afford the high prices of acolyte families, so they target kidnapped girls sold at a discount. True acolytes like you go for a premium—not what’s paid at auction, but enough for a destitute vampire to live comfortably for a while.”
A lump formed in my throat, and I struggled to keep my eyes from blurring. I would never be free. There was no such thing for someone like me. Despite my efforts, a soft sob escaped my lips just as Roman applied the salve.
His hands froze. “Did that hurt?”
His concern for my well-being made me want to laugh, but I choked it back. It didn’t make sense for him to be so kind. Men caused injuries; they didn’t treat them.
“Why are you being so kind to me? I was an unspeakable burden last night.”
“You’re human, Estrella. Not a burden. There’s a difference.”
“But you had to fight that vampire, and I stabbed you, and then the river...” I trailed off. “Are you going to send me back?”
I hated the vulnerability in my voice, how it trembled and slowed, ensuring he heard it. His gaze met mine, scanning me as if he could read my innermost thoughts from my face. Not in the way that other men stripped me with their eyes, but as if he could peel away my flesh and see the soul beneath.
“You’ll find I’m quite durable, doll. I can handle fights, frozen rivers, and stabbing.” He chuckled, a small, sad smile curling his lips. “As for your choices, I think you’ve paid for them. Don’t you?”
“So you aren’t going to send me back?”
“I would never send you back there, doll.” He finished tending to my hands and stood. “Turn around; I need to check your back.”
I did my best to comply, but every movement was a challenge. Pain shot through my body like white-hot fire, and I gritted my teeth to keep from crying out.
“Stop, I’ll help.” Roman’s tone was soft, unlike anything I had heard from him before. I didn’t like it.
He lifted me gently, turning me around so my back faced him. I caught my first glimpse of myself as the blanket fell away. I wore a white linen button-up far too large for me, and it was on backward.
As if he could read my confusion, Roman explained, “Bells thought one of my button-ups would be best for monitoring your back while keeping you clothed. She dressed you; I promise I didn’tsee anything.”
I brushed my stiff fingertips over the thick shirt cuff. The fabric was softer than anything I had ever owned, and it felt nice against my battered skin. “Why does it matter what you see? You own me; you’re entitled to every inch of my body.”
He finished unbuttoning my back and began peeling away the first bandage. I winced as the crisp air burned my raw wound. “Do you honestly think so little of me that you’d believe I would take advantage of you?”
His comment made me pause. It wasn’t really about him; he was kind, but there was only one reason acolytes were purchased—to be used. “That’s my purpose, Your Highness.”
