Troubled (The Binding Chronicles #4)

20. Ravenwood Dungeon

Ravenwood Dungeon

B eing imprisoned not once but twice in the span of a month had been extraordinarily low on Vivienne's list of things she envisioned for herself when she accepted the position as the prince's bodyguard.

In fact, she might argue that this was the worst possible outcome that could’ve happened to her, save death itself. And while she was grateful King Sebastian had spared her life, she was all too aware that he could order her killed at any moment.

The stones of Ravenwood Dungeon were at her back, frost crept along the floor, and the air was cold, even for a vampire. Her cell was windowless, and the faint glimmer of violet light from down the corridor was the only source of illumination in this dark place.

She wasn’t sure how long had passed since she’d first been thrown in here. Other than the guards who sporadically made their rounds through the prison, no one spoke or looked at her. They’d left the prohiberis collar around her neck, and it matched the bars of her cell.

Resting her head against the stone wall, she stared at her cold fingers through hooded eyes. Her nails were broken, and her fingertips were turning blue. She didn’t even know that could happen to vampires.

A mouse scurried over Vivienne’s feet, the small brown rodent darting into a hole in the nearby wall.

She didn’t bother screaming. What was the point? She was alone.

Instead, she sighed, letting the prison’s morbid symphony wash over her. Moans rose through the air, intermingling with screams and cries.

Vivienne didn’t join in.

She was in too much pain.

Her fangs were burning flames in her gums, and her stomach was a hollow pit. At first, it had cramped and gurgled, begging for even a drop of blood, but now it had fallen into a heavy silence that was louder than any sound could’ve been.

Some vampires could survive weeks or months without food, but Vivienne was still relatively young and needed blood.

That incessant need to satiate the dark monster in her soul was worsening by the hour. It was all she could think about, all she could feel.

She probably should’ve been worried about other things, like her dwindling odds of survival or the feral vampire that had escaped Hoarfrost Hollow, but they all paled when compared to her desire for blood.

Vivienne would do or say anything for a single crimson drop. Even when she’d been a Fledgling, her hunger hadn’t been so all-consuming.

Her eyes slipped shut, and she drifted between waking and sleeping. Time passed, but she didn’t bother keeping track of it. What good were minutes or hours when her hunger was worsening?

She couldn’t help but think about the Firsts entombed in their stone coffins. Was this how they felt, slowly starving as the centuries dragged on? She couldn’t imagine living for an eternity with this kind of crippling pain. Death would surely be better.

Vivienne was dreaming of sinking her fangs into a neck—any neck, at this point, she wasn’t picky—when footsteps whispered on the stone floor outside her cell.

It was probably a guard.

She kept her eyes closed, content to remain in this dark place that was her mind. The guards would move on. They always did. Hunger was her only constant companion.

“Viv,” someone whispered outside her cell.

That voice.

Was she losing her mind? Maybe she was so hungry that she’d started hallucinating. It made sense that she would eventually lose the ability to think straight, although she’d hoped she would last longer than this.

But maybe not.

Maybe this was the end.

“Viv,” the voice said, louder this time.

It sounded real. Could it be real?

She opened her eyes slowly, unsure what she’d find. Her vision adjusted to the darkness, and she gasped.

Marius stood in front of her cell, gripping the bars. Much like he had on the night of the ball, he wore a black tunic and trousers. Unlike the last time she’d seen him, he looked well-rested. His brown hair was swept across his brow, and there was no sign of a cough in his voice. He seemed healthy.

Vivienne couldn’t relate.

Not only was health a distant memory but so were hygienic practices. She was covered in dirt, and she hadn’t seen a bar of soap since before the ball. Her hair was matted, and she was certain her odor was less than pleasant.

She supposed it didn’t matter since she’d be dead soon enough.

Was Marius here to carry out her death sentence? It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. He was the prince of the realm, after all. That thought hurt her more than it should, though, and pain lanced through her chest.

Suddenly remembering her manners, Vivienne fell into a deep bow. Her forehead touched the frosty ground, and she mumbled, “Your Highness.”

Keys jingled, but she didn’t dare look up. Iron hinges creaked, and then, a hand touched her chin. His touch was gentle. Why was he being gentle if he was here to kill her?

Her brows furrowed as he lifted her chin. She looked up, eyes widening as she took in the prince’s crouching form. A violet orb hung suspended in a lantern dangling from his fingertips. His brown gaze was sorrowful, and she could’ve sworn silver lined the bottom of his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Viv.” The prince reached out as though to touch the collar around her neck, but he stopped, his fingers curling into a fist.

He drew in a long, shuddering breath and slammed his hand into the stone wall. Cursing, he shook out his hand as his nostrils flared.

“I should’ve fought harder to get you out sooner,” he said. “I was sick, but that doesn’t excuse anything. I failed you.”

He was wrong. She was the one who had fallen short of expectations. But she didn’t have the energy to argue with him. It took everything she had to stay with her back pressed against the wall, fighting the urge to sink her fangs into his neck.

“Why…” Her voice rasped after so many days of disuse, and she tried again. “Why are you here?”

If the time for her death had come, she would prefer if they didn’t drag it out.

Marius’s lips slanted up for the first time since he’d entered her cell. What did he have to smile about? The dungeon was a place of death.

“I came to ask if you wanted to stop the First with me. For real, this time. ”

She stared at the prince for a long moment, wondering if her ears were malfunctioning. After all, hunting the First was why she was in this horrible position.

He didn’t seem to be joking, though.

Silence filled the cell as he stared at her, waiting.

She licked her lips, her fingers digging into the cold stone as she avoided looking at the prince’s neck. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Marius dipped his head. “There have been some developments while you’ve been... here.”

He seemed reluctant to put a label on this place of destruction and death, but she had no such problems.

“In prison,” she said flatly.

“Yes. In prison.” He shifted uncomfortably, raking a hand through his hair. “The long story short is that the First isn’t an ordinary vampire.”

“I gathered as much when we couldn’t kill it,” she said as visions of the feral vampire’s grey skin and black blood flashed through her mind. “What did you find out?”

Still crouched in front of her, the prince launched into an outlandish story about a curse. All she could do was stare at him. This was a turn she never expected her day to take.

He ended with, “That’s why I’m going. I’m not a vampire, so I can kill the First.”

Vivienne was all too aware of the prince’s mortality. It was all she could think about right now. The pulse beating in his neck. His deep scent of maple and amber. The very male spark in his eyes that had been present when she straddled him in the snow.

Stop! she internally screamed.

That wasn’t a healthy train of thought. The hunger was making it more difficult to remember her boundaries than before. Not that it had been particularly easy at any point in time .

Gods.

Shoving those thoughts aside, she angled her head. “So… you aren’t going to kill me? And neither is the king?”

She couldn’t keep the disbelief from her voice. When the guards had thrown her in this prison, she was sure this was the end.

The prince nodded. “No one is going to kill you.”

Well, that was news to her.

“Even if I don’t come with you?” To be honest, Vivienne wasn’t entirely sure she could manage going on another one of the prince’s adventures. Not in her current state.

“Yes.”

She stared at him, studying his gaze. There was no sign that he was lying.

As if he knew where her mind had gone, he added, “No matter what you decide, Sebastian has agreed to free you. I explained everything, from how I encouraged you to come with me?—”

“Forced me,” she interrupted. “I had no choice.”

He sighed, his eyes filling with something that looked remarkably similar to regret. “That’s true. I didn’t give you a choice then, and I’m sorry about that. But I’m giving you a choice now.”

Reaching out, he took her grimy hand. There was something comforting about his touch, which was entirely at odds with everything she should have been feeling. Obviously, the lack of blood was getting to her.

Vivienne tried to remember all the reasons why she should pull away from him, but she couldn’t remember a single one.

“I’m going to need you to spell things out for me, please.” With her current mental state, she needed to make sure she was hearing things correctly.

“Of course.” Marius squeezed her fingers, and his lips worked up into the ghost of a smile. “I’m asking if you’d like to come with me, Viv. The circumstances are different this time. The royals know of and have agreed to this plan.” He paused and added, “I would really enjoy your company.”

Gods damn it.

The answer should’ve been easy. She should’ve just refused his ridiculous offer the moment he opened his mouth. Of course, she wouldn’t join him on this expedition. The first one had nearly gotten her killed, and it had resulted in two imprisonments. It would be foolish to agree to accompany him, wouldn’t it?

Vivienne had long considered herself an intelligent woman, but as she sat in that prison cell and considered the prince’s offer, she realized that she might’ve been a fool.

Actually, that was incorrect.

She was a fool twice over.

First, for not stopping Marius during his initial escape. Second, and perhaps more importantly, for her actions right now.

Her mouth opened, and before she could stop herself, she whispered, “Yes.”

The moment the word left her lips, her eyes widened. The prince’s brown gaze mimicked hers.

“Yes?” he said, almost incredulously. “You’ll come?”

Well, she was in it now.

Drawing in a deep breath and digging the fingers of her free hand into the frozen stones beneath her, Vivienne repeated more loudly, “Yes. I’ll come with you.”

Perhaps she truly did have a death wish. That was the only thing that made sense because even though she was surprised by her agreement, she didn’t regret it.

Maybe it was the memory of the prince’s joy as he rode Azil across those snow-covered roads, or maybe it was just the way he was holding her hand, but either way, she felt sure about her decision.

And he’d let her make a choice.

That, more than anything else, meant something. The fact that he wasn’t forcing her along this time made it so much easier for her to agree.

“Oh, thank Kydona.” Marius exhaled, relief flashing through his eyes. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure what you would say. You know, you’re a much better travel companion than Rupert and Damian,” he said, naming his other two bodyguards.

A chuckle slipped from Vivienne’s lips. The sound was broken and out of place in the dungeon, but it warmed something within her. “I can’t imagine either of them agreeing to this.”

Both vampires were burly soldiers who rarely cracked smiles, let alone laughed.

“Now, I won’t have to find out.” Marius studied her for a long moment, his smile slowly falling. “I really am sorry, Vivienne. I never meant for any of this to happen, and I’m going to make it up to you. I swear.”

Sincerity laced his words, and for a few moments, she forgot about her hunger and focused on him.

“You don’t have to,” she said.

He’d fought for her and saved her from the king’s wrath. That was enough.

“I do,” he insisted. Strength was woven within his words, and something flickered in his eyes as he traced the collar around her neck, shuddering in disgust. “I hate that they did this to you, hate that you’ve been down here. It isn’t humane.”

She wouldn’t argue with him about that. She hated the collar almost as much as she hated this prison .

Marius pulled his hand from hers. “I know I can’t erase what’s been done to you, but I hope this will help.”

Her brows furrowed as he stood and exited the cell. He was only gone for a few seconds before he returned bearing a large glass chalice. He cradled it between both hands, the crimson liquid it bore swaying gently from side to side as he walked back to her.

Vivienne’s stomach rumbled at the sight, and her fangs became daggers in her gums when the scent of copper filled her nose. Her hunger returned, and it was worse than ever. It took every ounce of strength she had not to growl and lunge for the prince.

“I brought this for you.” Unaware of her internal battles, Marius kneeled in front of her, extending the cup. “I was going to give it to you either way.”

He inched towards her, and she shook her head, pressing her back against the cold wall. Control was a minuscule thread, and she was gripping it with all her might.

“Don’t come closer, Your Highness.” She dug her fingers into the stones. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Fool that he was, the prince inched even closer.

“It’s from a stag,” he said, almost apologetically, as he picked up her hand and curled her trembling fingers around the stem.

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t from a human Source. She was so malnourished that any blood would help her. It wouldn’t appease her hunger, not entirely, but this was better than nothing.

Vivienne’s heart thudded as she lifted the cup to her lips and sipped. The blood slid down her throat, soothing an ache deep inside her.

Blood had never tasted so good. It was the richest of nectars and exactly what she needed. She moaned, and the sound seemed to echo through her cell.

They both froze .

His brown eyes widened, and he inhaled sharply.

“I’ll, uh… be outside.” He rose to his feet and stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers.

Vivienne was so hungry, but she didn’t lift the chalice back to her lips. Was he leaving? She thought… maybe she’d heard him wrong. Would he come back for her, or…

As if he could hear her thoughts, he smiled gently.

“I’m not leaving, Viv.” There was a softness in the prince’s voice that she’d never heard before, even when he’d been speaking with the injured woman after fighting the First. “I’m just going to let the guards know you’ll be coming with me. I’ll be right back.”

He slipped out the cell door, leaving it open behind him.

True to his word, he didn’t go far. The murmurs of conversation filtered through the cell as she emptied the chalice, drinking every drop.

By the time Marius returned, Vivienne had clambered to her feet. The empty chalice dangled between her fingers, and she’d dusted herself off as best she could. She still needed more blood, but for the first time since she’d woken up in the well, she felt like herself. She’d even raked her fingers through her hair and thrown it into a half-decent braid.

The prince strode into the cell, a key hanging from his fingers. “Turn around, please, Viv.”

Perhaps she should’ve asked what he planned on doing, but it surprised her to discover that she trusted the prince. She did as he asked, her movements steady as she turned to face the stone wall.

“I’m so sorry they left this on,” he murmured, his fingers brushing the back of her neck and lifting her braid.

“Me too.” She never wanted to touch prohiberis again. It was awful.

“I’m going to remove it. Hold still?”

She lowered her head, and he held her neck in place while the other jiggled a key against the collar. A click echoed through the space, and the cold metal was lifted.

Vivienne’s lungs expanded, and the darkness within her sang. It was like she could breathe for the first time in ages. She could feel her wings waiting for her once more.

Thank Isvana.

She exhaled a sigh of relief, her shoulders loosening. It meant something that Marius had remembered she was wearing the collar, just as it meant something that he’d brought her blood.

She turned back around, her lips sliding into a smile as she thanked him.

The prince’s eyes were wide and regretful, and he shook his head. “There’s no need to thank me. You never should’ve had it on.”

“On that, we’re agreed.” She squeezed his hand. “But it’s off now.”

Because of him.

“It is, and if I have anything to say about it, you’ll never wear anything like that again.” His thumb brushed hers. The contact was small, but for the first time in days, she felt something other than cold. “Are you ready to get out of here?”

Considering that, an hour ago, she thought she would die down here, she was more than ready. “Absolutely.”

The prince offered her his arm as though she were a lady and not his bodyguard, and she took it. They walked down the hallway, the macabre symphony of the dungeon rendered silent as the other prisoners watched in shock.

It wasn’t until they were climbing the stairs to return to Castle Sanguis that Vivienne asked, “So Marius, what’s the plan?”