He began to suck. Unhurriedly, and savouring each mouthful, he drew drop after drop of blood from my failing body. My vision was wavering, darkening to the gloom of the forest. My voice refused to work and my lungs burnt as they were starved of oxygen. My heart spluttered, fighting to pump the decreasing amount of blood around to my vital organs.
As quickly as he had started, he stopped. But my legs went weak and if it were not for the constant pressure of Ilta leaning into me, I would have collapsed to the ground. I sighed in relief, the tiniest, most frugal sigh imaginable, but Ilta still picked up on it.
‘No, my sweet. Do not think I am done with you. I am far from done. I just want you to be conscious and alive for this.’ He trailed off and cupped a hand around my breast. He traced the neckline of my dress with his nails, before allowing his fingertips to slip underneath the material. His intention was clear.
‘No,’ I pleaded, shaking my head and body, trying to release his grip. ‘No, please!’
‘When you are alive to feel the shame, Violet Lee, to feel yourself violated, it makes it far more fun, you see …’ His head bent down to my ear and he took my lobe between his fang and lower lip, tugging it. ‘But do not worry, I will keep going once you are dead.’
‘You’re sick,’ I said in no more than a whisper.
‘I know,’ he replied and yanked a nail down the material, slashing the dress and my bra. I shrieked again as his nails ran deep into my flesh and he laughed like someone had told a good joke. ‘I thank you for telling me, Violet. I do get rather bored of being told how good-natured I am.’
He raised both his hands, baring his nails. He placed them on my collarbone and slowly ran them down the length of my torso, tearing my skin and the dress. Ten long lacerations ran deep over my br**sts and each left a streaky trail of blood behind. I gritted my teeth, refusing to wince.
He took a finger and thumb to one of my br**sts, fondling them, squeezing the cuts so more blood oozed out, running his tongue across my sore skin. I recoiled from him, but he placed a hand behind my back, tearing the laced corset too.
‘Your blood does taste most sweet. Has anyone ever told you that?’ he mocked, smiling up at me. I couldn’t answer.
All of a sudden, he drew back for a moment. I held my breath against my will, waiting for his next move. He reached out a hand, grabbed my skirt and bunched it up. There was a ripping sound, as he tore that too. He pressed himself into me once more and I felt something hard against my abdomen. Pulling me up straight, he paused to look right into my eyes. All I saw was lust. Burning, flaming lust. Reaching a hand underneath my dress, he ran it up and down my inner thigh until he traced the outline of my knickers. He slowly pulled them aside, and I felt his other hand reaching for the fly of his trousers.
‘Get off her!’
Abruptly, his body was ripped away from mine and I crumpled to the ground.
‘You will pay for this, Ilta Crimson! You’ll burn at the stake, you f**king bastard!’
‘On what grounds, Kaspar?’ Ilta’s voice mocked. ‘I am sorry to correct you, but she is a human! I am perfectly within my rights to do with her what I will.’
Kaspar?
‘You forget something. She is under the King and Crown’s Protection. And on those grounds, drinking her blood without consent is punishable by execution. You should read your law books, Crimson.’
‘You lie,’ Ilta hissed back.
My eyelids were stitched together, but I forced myself to open them to catch a glimpse of two outlines for a second. But the effort made my heart falter, forgetting to beat for a second.
‘Do you want to test that?’ I heard Kaspar reply. I heard no more sound, but felt breath on my cheeks and fingers pressed to the vein on my wrist. Beneath them, I could feel my faint pulse. ‘You’ve lost too much blood,’ he muttered, and again, I forced my eyes open, catching a peek of his eyes, passing straight through green, dropping to a clear, colourless shade. They ran up and down my form, almost naked, examining my torn flesh. He shrugged his jacket off and placed it around me, before gently lifting me from the ground. Only then did I notice the true pain I was in. A rasping breath scratched my throat and my eyes snapped shut. I shuddered, both from the agony in my arm and the freezing air.
I felt a gentle pressure on my uninjured hand. ‘Hold on, Violet. Don’t give in.’ I could hear his panic. It added to my own.
Cold air assaulted my skin when he sped up; but within a few minutes, he stopped again. Even with my eyes jammed closed, I could tell where we were. The darkness glowed orange and I felt warmth engulf me, the clatter of footsteps below my back. The light became even more intense.
Die, child. Die before it is too late.
The echo of my voice’s earlier words resounded in my chest and my heart caught and spluttered. I thought about breathing, but the effort was too much.
‘Don’t you dare, Girly. You’ve come too far. Stay with me, Violet …’
With the thud of the doors, my heart constricted again, but it was pitiful and trying to force my ribs up and out was too much.
‘Open your eyes, Girly! I’m the bloody Prince and I’m telling you, you can’t let go!’
My eyelids twitched and I saw a thousand vampiric eyes staring at me, as I lay in the Prince’s arms, fading into blackness.
But not before I heard one last colossal roar, as a single word echoed around the mansion from the mouth of the vampire clutching me.
‘Father!’
TWENTY-SIX
Kaspar
Thousands of vampires stared at Violet as she lay limp in my arms. Immediately, my father’s tall, dark figure emerged from the thousands of utterly silent, motionless onlookers, all staring at Violet’s desecrated, limp form.
‘Get her inside,’ he ordered, as soon as his eyes fell on her. I jerked forward and the crowd parted to reveal Galen, the family physician. He jerked his head, motioning for me to place her on the floor as he bunched his jacket up to form a pillow for her head. Seeing her, torn and caked with blood, the expressions of my family became horror-struck. Lyla let out a dry sob.
Galen’s amber eyes bore into mine, as though he thought I had done this to her. ‘What happened?’ he asked in a brusque tone.
‘She was attacked,’ I growled. A collective snarl washed across the room, and eye after eye turned jet black.
‘Who?’ Ashton spat, loosening his cummerbund and shrugging his tailcoat off.
‘Ilta Crimson. He was going to rape her.’