Troubled (The Binding Chronicles #4)

21. This was Her Purpose

This was Her Purpose

T hick snowflakes fell from the heavens, covering the forest around Therese in a silver-white blanket. Perhaps once, she might’ve thought it was beautiful, but she no longer cared about trivial matters like beauty.

The vampire raced through the forests, shadows rippling around her like a cape as she followed a scent that had caught her attention not long ago. Her belly still ached, her wounds still oozed black, and her fangs still burned for blood, but all was not lost.

Her memories were slowly returning.

She knew who she was, and perhaps more importantly, she knew that this place— Eleyta— had changed drastically since the last time she’d hunted in these woods.

She had learned the name a few days ago. A human woman had been out for a walk in the woods, which had been the end of her pathetic, mortal life.

Therese had pounced on her, but she’d been in a playful mood. After all, half the enjoyment of hunting was having a little fun with her food. And this woman had provided exactly what she’d been looking for. The mortal had begged and pleaded for her life, crying out for the king and queen to save her from this monster. She’d spoken of laws and rules, as if she had rights .

A human.

The idea was laughable.

Therese obviously hadn’t let the woman live. She’d finished playing with her and drained her of blood before leaving her body in the woods.

Her hunt had continued. With every silent stride Therese took, her mind whirled.

King Sebastian and Queen Luna .

Vampires.

The blubbering woman told her about them before she died. They were powerful, at least according to the weak human, and they ruled this land.

What a ridiculous notion. There had been no royals during Therese’s time. No castles or laws.

The Twelve had ruled these lands, as was their gods-given right.

As far as Therese was concerned, the so-called king and queen were imposters. After all, Ithiar had given this land to the Firsts. It was theirs . The others were still locked up, bound by that damned witch’s curse, but Therese was back, and vengeance would be hers. A flame burned deep in her chest, urging her to reclaim what she’d once had.

It wasn’t a want.

It was a need .

This was her purpose. Why else would she have awoken now?

She would destroy the fake royals, and when she was done, she would find a way to wake the others. She would break the binds placed upon them, and together, they would rule the land with crimson fists. They would be stricter than before, and this time, no one would dare rise against them.

But before that, she had to regain every ounce of strength she’d lost.

And so, she continued her hunt. She ran through the woods, following the scent of life, until she found its source.

It was a gift from Ithiar himself.

Therese slowed, her mouth twisting into a smile as she gazed upon the village. Log buildings of varying sizes sat in a clearing, surrounded by snowy pines. Misty tendrils of smoke rose from chimneys, and the powerful aroma of life was nearly overwhelming.

The broken vampire who’d emerged from her tomb was long gone. Therese was as silent as the night itself as she crept forward with gods-blessed grace and swiftness.

Following her nose, she slinked through the snow towards the largest structure. Lanterns flickered in the windows, and merry strands of string music filtered through the snowy night, mingling with laughter and conversation.

Therese crept around the side of the building and stared through a frosted pane.

Ithiar had blessed her, indeed.

All in their second and third decades of life, two dozen humans laughed and danced their cares away. Therese smiled, her tongue flicking the tip of a fang, as two young men in dapper black suits shared a passionate kiss mid-dance.

Some part of Therese recognized this mortal custom as one that she’d once enjoyed. Perhaps at one point, she would’ve joined in their revelries.

She was no longer that woman.

The god of blood had sent her here for a reason, and she’d be a fool to pass up his gift. She wasn’t sure how much time went by before one of the dancers turned towards the window .

Sky blue eyes framed by a head of blonde curls met the vampire’s gaze. Cherry-red lips opened in a scream. A finger rose, pointing to her hiding spot.

Showtime.

Therese stood and dusted off the snow that had fallen on her as she studied her prey. She strode confidently to the door, sending her shadows around to block the other exit, and walked inside.

The music abruptly stopped. Dancers froze mid-waltz. Dozens of eyes swung to the door. Someone gasped. Another screamed. A few hands traveled to weapons.

Therese smirked in amusement. As if they would be strong enough to stop her.

“Hello, lovelies,” she crooned, shadows blocking the door behind her and trapping the humans inside. “Don’t you look delectable?”

The mortals fought back.

They screamed and shouted and tried to use their pathetic blades against her.

The way they held onto their insignificant lives so dearly was amusing. As if they had something to live for. As if they weren’t weak and only existed on this planet to serve creatures of the night.

Ridiculous.

They struggled and wept, and she grinned. Their screams were a melodic symphony as she drained them of their blood, leaving their bodies in a growing pile in the middle of the floor.

She didn’t stop.

She would never stop.

In the end, Therese was the last one standing. Red coated the floors, and where music had been playing, now there was only heavy silence.

As she called back her shadows and exited the hall, licking blood from her fangs, there was a bounce in her step .

This was how things were always meant to be. This was the terror her kind was always meant to instill upon the mortals that called this land their own.

A kingdom?

No.

This was, and always would be, the land ruled by the Twelve.