Troubled (The Binding Chronicles #4)

7. The Scent of Death

The Scent of Death

M arius’s arms ached from helping Vivienne drag bodies off the road. She’d volunteered to do it herself, but he hadn’t felt right about that. Not when they were on this journey because of him.

He’d Seen the attack but hadn’t been fast enough to warn them. Felix had already received the cut across his cheek when Marius left the carriage.

Shame was a cold pit in his stomach. This was his fault. What good was being a Fortune Elf if he couldn’t even use his magic to help protect his friends?

Felix had been gone for a half hour, and they were just now clearing the last body off the road. The moon shone above them, and a cool breeze blew through the forest.

Vivienne sighed, dropping the last body and rubbing her hands together. “That’s the last of them.”

Rolling his shoulders, Marius looked over the area.

Crimson stained the snow and mud, the signs of a scuffle apparent even from where they stood. If Vivienne hadn’t come out when she did, he and Felix would’ve died.

She’d saved them, pure and simple.

“Thank you for coming to our rescue,” he said, the words feeling painfully inadequate.

He wasn’t too proud to admit that he and Felix had been outnumbered. Death had been on the horizon. He would’ve died, and then his vision of Luna screaming with blood tears running down her cheeks would’ve come true.

Gods.

His heart clenched, and guilt soured his stomach.

Stupid .

He’d been so damned stupid.

“I was just doing my job.” Vivienne unhooked Azil’s reins from the nearby tree.

Felix had saddled the steed before leaving, the groom having thankfully brought saddles in the carriage’s storage compartment, just in case. He’d also come equipped with saddlebags, provisions, and two spare cloaks.

Felix had taken one, and the other was slung across Marius’s shoulders. The saddlebags were on Azil, and with careful rationing, Marius should have enough food to last up to a week.

“I appreciate it nonetheless.” Marius stepped towards the horse, his hand outstretched, intent on taking the reins.

“You do know how to ride, right, Prince?” Vivienne’s tone was teasing, but her words had a serious undertone.

He scoffed. “Of course I do.”

Luna was overprotective, but Marius had insisted on learning to ride a decade ago. Thank all the gods, the king had backed him up, saying that it would be a good skill for him to have. Luna had been nervous, but she’d eventually agreed.

She hadn’t had anything to worry about.

Marius had taken to horses like a natural, and his sister was forced to admit that riding was good for him.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Vivienne handed him the reins, and their pinky fingers brushed.

The touch was barely more than a whisper, but it reverberated through his entire body.

He sucked in a breath, and she froze. Marius’s heart thudded, and his muscles tensed. Warmth suffused him, starting at his hand and moving through him like fire.

Silver moonlight outlined their fingers, still gripping the reins. Hers were lithe, thinner than his, and as pale as snow. Callouses ran along his hands, decorating his flesh alongside the nicks and scars he’d received from training with the guards. Her skin was flawless.

And they were touching.

For one long moment that seemed to last a lifetime, neither of them moved.

Why did this feel so good? Why were jolts of awareness running through him? He didn’t know, nor did he care. Fire was warming him from the inside out. If this came from a touch, what would happen if he held her?

Before he could find out, the vampire inhaled sharply. Her fingers spasmed, and she released the reins.

“I’ll check the saddle,” she choked out. “After all, I need to make sure you’re safe. That’s my job.”

Because she was his bodyguard, and he was…

A fool .

He couldn’t hold her. Couldn’t kiss her. He wasn’t even supposed to touch her.

Even though Vivienne didn’t dance around him, careful of her every word and action because of his relation to the king and queen, barriers divided them. They couldn’t have anything else.

She wasn’t just some stunningly beautiful woman. She was the king’s employee. His bodyguard.

There needed to be space between them.

Marius knew that. It made sense.

So why did stepping back and creating more space between them hurt so much? Why did he desperately want to pull her against him? Why did he want to find out if the rest of her was as soft as her hand?

Whatever the reason, he’d have to address it later.

Vivienne tugged on the saddle and patted Azil’s flank affectionately. “It’s safe. You should mount; I don’t want to linger here.”

She glanced at the bodies nearby, grimacing. He felt the same way. Death remained in these woods, even now.

Grunting in agreement, Marius swung up into the saddle. He settled into his seat, the comfort of being back on a horse diffusing some of the tension he’d been carrying since walking the silver planes.

Once he was settled and holding the reins, he glanced at Vivienne. Her sword was strapped to her back, and she’d quickly braided her hair into a crown.

“What about you? Are you riding with me?”

Despite his earlier thoughts, he couldn’t help but hope she would share the horse with him. They would be forced to sit close and touch, and even though his mind remembered that she was his bodyguard and they needed to keep things platonic between them, his body didn’t seem to be getting the message. He could imagine her weight pressed against his front, her cooler body sitting rigidly in the saddle until she relaxed into his arms.

A smile tugged on his lips at the thought.

Instead of answering, Vivienne rolled her shoulders. She stretched out her arms and cracked her neck to the left, then the right. Her black eyes twinkled as she straightened and flashed him the first genuine smile he’d ever seen her give.

It was a beautiful sight, and he had to remind himself that these were inappropriate thoughts he could never act on.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, Prince.” She waggled her brows. “You ride. I’ll keep up.”

The promise in her voice intrigued him. He couldn’t wait to find out what she was planning.

Casting one final curious glance at the vampire, Marius dipped his head, whispered a command to Azil, and squeezed his thighs.

The horse took off, breaking into a gallop. Azil’s hooves pounded against the snow as though she’d been born to run through forests, and pulling carriages had just been something she did to pass the time.

The forest was a green, white, and brown blur.

It was beautiful.

A laugh bubbled up inside Marius as the cool breeze caressed his cheeks. He leaned back in the saddle, tipping his head to the sky. Snow danced from the clouds, and the moon glowed in approval.

This was freedom.

It was cold and moonlit and tasted like new experiences.

He wanted more. He wanted it all.

Then he looked to his right.

Vivienne was running next to Azil like she was one with the wind. She glided alongside the steed, her movements graceful and dancelike. Power infused her every action, and she glanced up at him, grinning .

She was a beautiful creature of the night, fully in her element.

Minutes passed. He rode, and she ran.

A fallen log covered the road ahead. Had they still been in the carriage, it would have been problematic.

Marius clicked his tongue, and Azil jumped over the log as though it was nothing.

A carefree, tinkling laugh came from beside him. Vivienne sailed over the obstacle, her graceful movements uninterrupted as she landed smoothly on the other side.

The vampire raced ahead, her feet pounding the snow-covered road, before she called over her shoulder, “Come on then, Prince. Is that all you’ve got?”

The joy infusing her voice would have warmed even the coldest man on the darkest nights.

“Is that a challenge?” he asked.

His bodyguard winked. “Absolutely.”

Laughing, Marius bent over Azil’s neck and whispered words of encouragement. The horse nickered, Marius squeezed his thighs, and they set off even faster than before.

This.

This was the independence he had so desperately sought, the freedom he’d been denied for so long.

As the wind kissed Marius’s cheeks and laughter filled the air, he grinned.

Freedom tasted better than he’d ever imagined.

The light, airy warmth in Marius’s heart remained for several hours. The moon was still high, and the snow was picking up when, suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

The air abruptly chilled as though he’d been dunked in the Black Sea.

Birds halted their serenades mid-stanza. Wolves ceased howling. Owls cut off mid-hoot. Even the wind, which had been tickling Marius’s cheeks and whispering in his ears, suddenly fell silent.

Marius squeezed his thighs, signaling for Azil to slow, and he looked around for the source of the disturbance. They were still in the middle of the forest, the road little more than packed dirt and snow, but something was different.

His heart pounded, and the reins slipped in his hands. Azil stopped, her nostrils flaring as white clouds billowed in the night air.

Seconds later, Vivienne skidded to a stop in front of him. Her sword sang as she unsheathed it, drawing it over her head in an arc as enormous midnight bat wings unfurled from her back.

She widened her stance, an aura of protective violence radiating off her. Gone was the joyful creature of darkness racing through the night.

Now, she was a bringer of death, through and through. His bodyguard, first and foremost.

She looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes wide. “Do you smell that?”

He drew in a deep breath, but he instantly regretted it. Before, the air had smelled bad. Now, it stank of death and decay, as though a hundred rotting corpses surrounded them.

But there were no bodies that would produce that kind of stench.

“I do.” He wrinkled his nose, trying not to breathe. His efforts were largely useless. Now that he noticed the stench, it was getting worse with every passing moment.

Vivienne’s black eyes hardened. “I go first, Prince.”

Not a question. A command.

For once, Marius had no problem listening to orders. Growing up in a castle with vampires, he was especially skilled at recognizing danger. Right now, death was in the air. With every inhalation, every passing second, it drew nearer.

He dipped his chin and dismounted with ease. Holding the reins in his left hand, he withdrew his dagger with his right.

Vivienne snapped her wings together, her shoulders tense as she led him into the forest. She was a silent wraith moving through the woods, her sword clearing a path and her feet barely touching the snow.

Thanking all the gods that the breathtaking, powerful vampire was on his side, Marius followed her lead.

The scent of death grew stronger until it was the only thing he could smell. The stench was made worse by the strange silence blanketing the forest.

Marius’s other senses screamed that something was wrong.

The horse seemed to feel it, too. Azil’s steps slowed and then, eventually, stopped. She whinnied and shook her head, refusing to move even when Marius spoke to her softly, as he’d seen Felix do.

Not wanting to spook Azil further, Marius looped the reins over a branch.

“We’ll be right back,” he told the steed.

She stared back at him, brown eyes wide as if saying, Maybe you won’t .

Or maybe that was in Marius’s head.

Either way, he tightened his grip on his dagger and trailed a few steps behind his bodyguard through the too-silent forest. His breath formed clouds in front of him, the temperature dropping drastically.

Not far from where he left Azil, the trees thinned. The scent of death worsened, and his heart thundered in his chest .

Old magic hung in the air. It was a heavy weight pushing down on his chest. A warning. Leave before they saw what was hiding behind the thinning trees.

They didn’t heed the warning, walking on.

The air chilled impossibly further.

Each step felt like wading through sand—at first, it wasn’t difficult, but it grew more strenuous with each passing moment.

Goosebumps pebbled his flesh.

Snow fell in a silent flurry, and seeing more than a few feet in front of him was difficult.

And then, the trees fell away.

Vivienne’s arm shot out to the side, blocking him from going ahead of her. The action was unnecessary. He desired adventure, but he still had common sense and a will to live. Both screamed at him to be careful in this place where death so clearly reigned.

Hoarfrost Hollow.

It was as unwelcoming as the name made it seem.

Marius had Seen glimpses of the fabled location when he walked the silver planes, but they hadn’t come close to the terrifying reality in front of him.

Darkness resided here. It was everywhere—in the empty clearing, in the air, and in the snowy ground beneath their feet.

The earth seemed to thrum with an ancient, dark magic that made the hair on his arms stand on end.

The forest stood sentinel behind them. Even though the trees’ long, looming shadows fell over the moonlit clearing, none grew within the perimeter of Hoarfrost Hollow. There were no plants at all.

Shivers crawled over Marius’s arms.

It was here, in Hoarfrost Hollow, that his sister and her husband had defeated the evil queen and taken her place as the rulers of Eleyta. He’d heard the story many times, but he’d never quite been able to picture the scene. Until now.

It made sense that Queen Marguerite and her Blood Ruby had met their demises here.

Evil resided in this empty place.

On the night Luna and Sebastian defeated the old queen, crimson roses had spread across the land, originating in Hoarfrost Hollow.

Any signs of those flowers were long gone.

It was like an invisible line divided Hoarfrost Hollow from the rest of the world.

On one side, trees, plants, and life itself existed.

And on the other side, there was nothing but death.

Death and tombs.

Marius shivered, stepping closer to his bodyguard.

There were twelve stone coffins in total. Each stood at least ten feet tall, and they were equally spaced within the clearing, forming a rough circle. They were spread apart, roughly two dozen feet between each one. The stones were so white that they were almost blinding. Thick layers of translucent ice coated each tomb, except…

“Isvana help us all,” Vivienne breathed.

Marius echoed her sentiment. This was far worse than what he’d expected.

Holding her sword in front of her, Vivienne stepped into the circle of death. Marius followed close behind.

At this moment, he was grateful for his sister’s overprotectiveness. He couldn’t imagine being here alone.

They reached the middle of the circle and faced the twelfth tomb.

A jagged fissure ran through the surface, leaving a gap large enough for a body, and inside …

“It’s empty,” he breathed, hardly able to believe what was right in front of him.

He blinked, but the sight remained the same.

Knowing that a First had escaped their tomb was one thing, but seeing it in person was another entirely.

His stomach twisted in knots.

Oh, gods.

He wasn’t sure how long they stood staring at the empty tomb. It could have been minutes or hours. Time warped in this strange, unnatural place.

Vivienne turned around. Her jaw feathered, and her wings twitched. “We should leave.”

Marius’s brows furrowed. “Leave? We just got here.”

This place was dark and unnatural, and strange magic was present, but they still needed to find the First.

She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“Danger resides in this place,” she hissed.

Obviously. That was like pointing out that the moon was silver or that the waters of the Black Sea were inky.

“I know.” He gestured to the tombs. “But this is exactly what we came for.”

Skirting around his bodyguard, he approached the shattered tomb. The sensation of wading through sand returned, and his skin crawled with old magic.

Wrong, wrong, wrong .

His Fortune Elf side urged him to leave, but he refused to heed its call. He wouldn’t run away after everything he’d gone through to get here.

“Prince,” Vivienne whisper-yelled, grabbing his arm .

He twisted out of her grasp, and she cursed.

“I just need to see it,” he explained.

The scent of death grew stronger with every step, as if it originated from the twelve tombs.

“We need to get out of here!”

He nodded absentmindedly. “We will.”

Once he had a better look.

He twisted his dagger, moving slowly in case an enchantment surrounded the tomb.

“Oh, gods. King Sebastian will surely have my head for this,” Vivienne bemoaned as she trailed him.

“Just a minute longer,” Marius mumbled, standing before the vacant tomb.

He was tall, and the stone was broken in such a way that he could see to the bottom of the coffin by craning his neck.

If the air around Hoarfrost Hollow smelled like death, the inside of the tomb stank of hell itself.

His first instinct was to turn and run, but he forced himself to remain in place and study the broken stone. The interior was a thing of nightmares, covered in long, thin, rusty stripes that ran down the smooth shale.

Claw marks, he realized with a shudder.

The First must have fought back when it was entombed. Had the vampire screamed when it was bound and thrown in here?

Marius knew about the Firsts, of course. Blessed by Isvana and Ithiar, the goddess of the moon and the god of blood, the Twelve were the original vampires. They had lived for thousands of years before they all lost control one fateful night. No one knew how it started, but they murdered hundreds of humans and painted the entire country crimson.

Thank the gods, the Firsts were stopped. Brave witches entrapped them, cutting their murderous rampages short and throwing them into the tombs. Ancient, powerful threads of magic were woven around the stones, locking the Twelve in place and sentencing them to spend the remainder of their eternal lives in the enchanted coffins.

They were awake, but not. Alert, but bound.

They knew what was happening to them, that time was passing, but they had no blood.

What kind of existence had the Firsts lived since their imprisonment, going century after century without sustenance?

If the gouges in the stone were any sign, an unpleasant one at best.

Shuddering, Marius stepped back.

The First was gone. Footprints, half-buried in snow, led away from the circle of tombs.

“Good, you’re done.” Vivienne stood right behind him, gripping her sword as she glared at him. “We can leave now, right? We need to return to Castle Sanguis and report this to the king and queen.”

“No, we have to find the First.” He’d already been planning on it, but now that he’d seen the empty tomb, he was certain this was the right move.

“Gods above. I was afraid you’d say that.” Vivienne sheathed her sword and groaned, pressing a fist to her temple. She inhaled sharply before pinning him with her black glare. “You do realize the Firsts were entombed here because they went mad, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. But it’s not like there’s an entire hoard of them to catch.” He gestured to the other closed tombs. “There’s only one. How bad could it be?”

He wasn’t a child, still suffering from the Wasting Illness. He was strong, and he could take on a single vampire and survive.

“How bad?” Vivienne choked, her eyes bulging out of her head. “How. Bad? ”

“I know how to deal with vampires,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I’ve trained for this.”

There were many ways to kill a vampire. Decapitation, a stake to the heart, fire, silver. He knew them all.

Vivienne’s lips curled into a snarl, and a dangerous glint entered her obsidian eyes. “Oh, the prince thinks he knows how to deal with vampires, does he?”

His hackles rose. How dare she use that tone with him? He wasn’t some helpless child to be mocked.

“I do know how to deal with them.”

Why were they arguing about this? They needed to leave Hoarfrost Hollow and search for the First.

A long moment passed, the air growing heavy, before Vivienne raised a brow. “We’ll see about that.”

Faster than Marius’s halfling eyes could track, she charged towards him. She slammed into him, the force of impact sending them both to the ground.

He tried to shove his bodyguard off, but before he could, her arm pressed across his jugular. Her black eyes shone in the moonlight as she constricted his airways, choking him.

He tried to roll away, but she straddled him, ripping his dagger from him and throwing it away. It clattered against a tomb.

Cursing, he slammed his arm against her back. “Let me go!”

A vicious snarl tore from his bodyguard’s chest.

Predatory.

Dark.

Dangerous.

One moment, she was choking him.

The next, her hips were pressed against him, and her fangs brushed his throat .

They both froze. Marius’s heart raced in his chest, his body screaming in warning that this might be his final moment on the planet.

“You’re dead, halfling,” his vampire bodyguard breathed against his neck, her razor-sharp fangs poised to rip out his throat. “One bite, that’s all it would take.”