Blood Bound Page 27

  Miria ran as fast as she could up the stairs, away from the vampires at the gate, away from Terra Nocturne. Her legs carried her forward in a blur, too fast for her to truly perceive her surroundings. Unnaturally fast, faster than she’d ever gone before.

  She moved with their speed.

  She stopped at the landing to stare at the pool of her own blood. Now dried and crusted, it stained the stone floor. The moonlight spilled in from the cave entrance, which had to be just around the corner. She hadn’t made it far enough to see it last time. Once Nero had showed up, she’d thought she never would.

  But now…

  She ran toward the exit. The moonlight from outside became brighter with every step. It pulled her forward, commanding her to come closer. The burning in her throat was forgotten for her sense of wonder at the pale light. She rounded the corner, and for the first time in twenty years, wind blew crisp, fresh air into her face. Her body trembled as she stepped out of the carved archway and onto the cliffside of a mountain.

  The world stretched before her, endless and huge. The full moon, surrounded by stars scattered across the night sky, shone down on the world below. At the base of the mountain, a forest stretched out past the horizon, and at the center of it, looming tall above the treetops in the distance, was Viridi.

  Home.

  Tears streamed down Miria’s face, though not the same as the kind she’d cried earlier. This time, her tears were for the incredible beauty of the world that stretched out before her. She would never take it for granted again.

  Her heart ached at the thought of Azalea. It wasn’t right that she was still trapped in there, if she was even alive at all. It wasn’t fair that Miria should be standing outside, staring out at the world beyond, when she was the one who got them trapped down there in the first place. If she’d never convinced Azalea to go out into the forest after dark that night, they’d both be living happily in Viridi, blissfully unaware of Terra Nocturne and the vampires within it. They’d both be free.

  The cool breeze swirled around Miria as she stared out at the forest below. The old string that tied her hair in a ponytail came undone, whipping her silver hair wildly around her face. The reds and yellows of the early fall leaves below were muted in the moonlight that illuminated them. Everything in Terra Nocturne stayed the same, never changing. How had she forgotten the brilliance of the fall leaves? The bright, vibrant colors of the world? Her time underground had dulled them in her memory.

  Now they were dulled by the moonlight—the only light by which she would ever see them.

  She ran her tongue along her fangs again, testing to see whether they were still there, or whether it had all been some sick dream. Gods, did her throat burn.

  She wiped away the single tear that rolled down her cheek and followed the rocky path down the side of the mountain. The bitter chill of the wind swirled around her, unrelenting until she reached the base of the mountain. But even with the flimsy, ruined dress she wore, leaving her shoulders and legs bare and exposed, the cold had no effect on her. She brushed aside the branches that obscured the mountain path and started into the woods.

  Branches cracked beneath her feet as she walked through the woods, not knowing exactly where she was heading. The sounds of scampering in the brush informed her that animals were scattering through the woods around her, though she saw none of them. She couldn’t remember animals hiding from her when she was a child. Elven folk had an affinity for gentle creatures of the forest. Did they avoid her now because they sensed what she was?

  When she reached a clearing in the woods, she stopped. Though it had been many years, time hadn’t touched the open clearing. The jagged rock still stood in the center of it, covered in tangled vines of ivy. She remembered her back pressing into that rock, cutting through the fabric of her flimsy shirt.

  She would have died if Nero hadn’t saved her from the wolf who attacked her that night.

  And now, she was in the same situation—alive only because Nero chose to save her. Back then, she’d been grateful. At least at first. This time, though…

  Her legs carried her farther into the clearing. She slumped down against the rock and stared up at the full moon. Where would she even go? Viridi seemed the obvious answer, but what would she do when she got there? She’d been chasing freedom so long, she didn’t know what to do with it now that she had it.

  In one way, she was free—free to leave Terra Nocturne and return to the world above. But in another, she would never be free again. Everyone she cared for was gone, and she’d been turned into the thing she hated more than anything.

  What, then, did she have to live for?

  The moon stared back down at her, cold and uncaring. It would never have the warmth and light of the sun.

  She could see it one last time, if she wanted. She could lie against this rock and wait for it to rise until the warmth on her skin turned her to ash and freed her from this fate worse than death.

  Miria closed her eyes…and waited.

  34

  Hooves thundered through the brush, growing louder and louder with a rider’s approach.

  Miria’s eyes snapped open. She cocked her head to the side and pushed herself forward into a crouch.

  The rider appeared at the edge of the clearing. His black cloak covered his face and billowed about him as he rode the ebony horse through the wood. He pulled the reins to a stop and dismounted, looking around the open clearing.

  Breath caught in her throat, Miria inched backward into the ivy that hung over the rock in an effort to disappear into the deep shadow cast by it. Though, if the rider were an elf, the shadows wouldn’t be of much use to her.

  His eyes locked onto hers, and his brows rose. “Who’s there?”

  The burning sensation from earlier tingled again in her throat at the sound of the man’s voice.

  “Go away,” she called back weakly.

  The man didn’t listen, instead taking several cautious steps toward her. “It’s not safe to be out here alone at night.”

  A gust of wind blew through the clearing, carrying with it a sweetly enticing scent of honey and cinnamon, and all the sweets she remembered from childhood. The burning intensified, clawing through her dry, parched throat.

  “Go away!” she shrieked, shrinking back farther into the rock.

  The horse whinnied and stomped its feet as it backed away.

  Its rider didn’t have the same sense. “My name is Rydin. Who are you? Why are you out here alone in the middle of the night?”

  “Miria,” she said, voice hoarse. “And I could ask the same of you.”

  He chuckled. “Midnight rides are the only way I can get away from the palace.”

  Palace? The details clicked into place. “Rydin? Prince Rydin Viridian?” She hadn’t thought about the royal family in years. Even though Azalea’s parents had been among the courtiers, she’d long given up hope that any of the Court of Viridi would ever find them. To find the crown prince in the woods, alone and unattended, was unthinkable.

  As he came closer, he pulled back the hood of his cloak, revealing otherworldly beauty—sleek blond hair, high, pointed cheekbones, and pale, blue eyes that glowed in the moonlight. His kind, gentle smile at the mention of his name was as gorgeous as the rest of him.

  “Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold.”

  “I won’t,” she said, then rushed to add, “but don’t come any closer.”

  He laughed again, a soft, musical sound that seemed to settle his horse. “And why not? Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine. I’d just…like to be alone.” She barely managed the words through the hunger that crowded her thoughts.

  “You must be freezing, dressed like that.” When he was only a few feet from her, he held out a hand.

  Reluctantly, she accepted, placing her hand in his and letting him pull her to her
feet. The strong, delicious scent of honey and cinnamon emanated from his skin, only inches away from her. Gods curse her, but he smelled incredible. Horrified at the thought, she pulled away. He resisted her movement, bringing her in close to his chest instead.

  “Let me take you home. It’s not safe out here at night.”

  As he pulled her in close, her lips brushed against the warm skin of his neck. A humming buzzed in her head, growing louder and more intense.

  Blood.

  She needed blood.

  His veins, now just inches from her mouth, were full of it.

  And she was so, so thirsty.

  He thought she was a maiden in need of saving, but she was now the reason it wasn’t safe at night.

  “Are you okay?” Prince Rydin’s voice was so far away now.

  Perhaps just a taste… She didn’t have to kill him. Plenty of vampires back in Terra Nocturne fed from elves without killing them. She could run afterward, run far away…

  Before she could finish the thought, her fangs were in his throat. His blood was flowing, gulp after gulp, into her mouth.

  Prince Rydin’s gasp was followed by a pleasant sigh as he crumpled to the ground without a fight. She straddled him, legs on either side of his chest, bent down over his throat.

  Somewhere beyond, his horse whinnied.

  With every draw from his vein, strength flowed through her core, out into her limbs. Somewhere in her mind, a voice pleaded with her to stop.

  She ignored it.

  He would be fine. He tasted so good; how could she stop?

  The gentle movements of his chest beneath her slowed, and she pulled away with a gasp. His face, once glowing in the moonlight, had turned to a sickly grey pallor.

  Blood leaked out of the wound at his throat. She covered it with her hand, as though by pressing against it she could return what she took and stop the flow of what little was left. The night carried on around them as the moon re-positioned itself in the sky.

  She took a final lick at his vein, lapping her tongue against the opening.

  She’d murdered him, drunk him dry, but the expression on his face was serene. She’d killed him, and he’d enjoyed every moment of it.

  She backed away from his ruined husk. All he’d done was try to help a young woman during a midnight ride. He’d done nothing to deserve this horrible death.

  She stood still as the trees that surrounded her, hair blowing in the wind like the leaves. A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature came over her, a calm, cool resolve.

  No one in this world got what they deserved. Not the elves who lived in captivity and servitude at the vampires’ hands as nothing more than disposable livestock. Not Zephyr, who’d been mercilessly killed by their captors. Not Azalea, who, if she still lived, was the captive puppet of a sadistic vampire lord.

  And certainly not Miria, who’d been turned into the very thing she hated most.

  None of them deserved their fates, but she was the only one living who still possessed any freedom. She had power and strength she’d never known before. She was the only one who could right the wrongs of that twisted city.

  As she stared at the towering city of Viridi in the distance, she knew what she had left to live for. No matter the cost, she would return to Terra Nocturne to free Azalea and burn the cursed city to the ground.

  She would give Nero Cineris exactly the end he deserved.

  Thank you for reading!

  Miria and Azalea’s story will continue in Blood Debt.

  http://beccablakebooks.com/reign-of-blood/

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  About the Author

  Becca Blake writes dark and deadly fantasy stories. Despite being happily married herself, she doesn’t believe in happy endings. If you ask her about her hobbies, she’ll tell you she likes to spend her time seeking vengeance against her enemies, but in reality she spends her free time curled up on the couch watching Netflix with her cat. She currently lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania with her husband and their two kids.

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