Chapter 2

They pinned Caelan against the pillar in the center of the courtyard.

The pillar was carved from marble, usually used to tether the nightmare steed. Today, it was used to bind a man instead.

Lucian's guards ripped off Caelan's shirt, baring his back.

It was a knight's back. Old scars marked his shoulders, and a long scar ran along his waist. His skin was sun-darkened to a honeyed tone. I had never noticed his back before.

I stood on the second-floor balcony, escorted here by two guards who made sure I didn't leave.

Lucian held a whip in his hand.

It was black, and its tip was dripping with saltwater.

"Isolde," Lucian looked up at me, his smile soft. "Every time you give me a negative answer, I'll strike him once."

I didn't say a word.

"First question," Lucian said, raising the whip. "Can you admit you need me?"

I simply looked at him.

Caelan, tied to the pillar, gave a quiet chuckle when he heard that.

But Lucian still caught it.

Lucian's expression turned cold, and he brought the whip down hard.

A fresh gash tore across Caelan's back, blood beading instantly. The saltwater seared the wound, making his whole body tense.

He stayed silent.

I dug my fingers into the marble balustrade so hard that a crack formed beneath them.

"Second question," Lucian said, raising the whip again. "Beg me to stop."

I spoke up. "Lucian."

"Yes?" His eyes lit up.

"Your whip work is really pathetic."

Lucian was caught off guard for a moment.

The whip struck again.

Caelan's shoulder jerked, blood running down his waist and seeping into his waistband. He bit his lip, stifling a groan.

The burning sensation in my throat intensified.

My bloodlust surged, and of all times, it chose the worst possible moment.

Watching Caelan bleed, that fresh, warm scent of blood flooded my nose, and my fangs started to grow, totally out of control.

I pressed my tongue against them, trying to push them back in.

"Isolde," Lucian called, stepping directly beneath me and looking up. "Look at you, so pathetic."

"Craving blood? Maybe I should have someone bring you a cup of sewer water instead. How would that be?"

A few elven nobles on the second floor laughed quietly.

They kept their laughter restrained, but every sound felt like a jab to my ears.

Suddenly, I remembered what happened three years ago.

That was the first time I met Lucian. He had found one of my maids bleeding out near the forest border and saved her. He looked at me and said, "Queen Isolde, it should not be this difficult for your kind to survive.

"If you need blood, take mine."

Back then, his smile was so genuine.

Suddenly, Lucian brought the whip down a third time.

Caelan's knees almost gave out. He was bound to the pillar, so he didn't fall. He lifted his head and looked at me through sweat-dampened hair, then let out a faint smile.

That smile was telling me: "I'm okay, Your Majesty."

I closed my eyes for a moment.

When I opened them, I met Lucian's gaze and said, "Let me know when you're satisfied."

Lucian's face turned stormy.

He tossed the whip to the ground.

"Take her back to her room," he ordered. "Lock her up."

"And this man..." He kicked Caelan's dangling foot and continued, "Throw him back to his quarters. Let him lick his own wounds."

The guards marched me away.

As we passed through the courtyard, I whispered something to Caelan. It was so quiet that only he could hear it. "Wait for me."

Caelan glanced up at me, giving a small nod.

The door to my bedchamber was locked from the outside.

I lay on the bed, every bone in my body felt as though it was being pulled apart one by one, crushed under something heavy, then forced back into place.

The first three hours of bloodlust were pure torture.

Cold sweat soaked the blanket, and my nails ripped several gashes into the sheets. I was desperate to sink my teeth into anything alive. Even a rat would have satisfied me.

Music floated in from outside.

The elves were having a party.

They were celebrating Lucian finally "getting rid of" the vampire queen, me.

Their bright, cheerful songs rose up from the garden, a stark contrast to the searing pain tearing through my organs. I even found the moment strangely absurd.

I rolled off the bed and sprawled out on the carpet.

My stomach cramped up in agony.

Just then, the balcony curtains shifted.

I snapped my head up, my fangs bared.

"It's me," Caelan said. He slipped in from the balcony and dropped to one knee in front of me.

He was wearing a black cloak now, but blood was still seeping through the clothes underneath. He braced one hand on the floor and pulled a leather pouch from inside his cloak. "Deer blood. Still warm."

I didn't take it.

I couldn't take my eyes off the two bite marks on his neck and the faint traces of blood on his chest. "How did you get in?"

"I scaled the wall," Caelan replied. "Drink it now."