Chapter 32

RED

I t's Wendell who breaks up our discussions. As dawn crests the horizon, little embers of light streak the bar. I get up from our seating area and close the curtains before either Amelia, Octavia or Xavier get crispy.

Wendell makes his way into the bar with a selection of envelopes in his hand. He offers them out to each of us and then takes his leave.

Amelia pushes the plate of food I barely touched towards me. I pick at it, hating that I'm the only one who actually needs to eat. Obviously, none of them touch it, though there are three empty goblets of blood left on the coffee table. But I mostly shove the food around the plate, none of it appealing or tasting the way food used to.

Octavia glances at her envelope and then sighs. "We've been invited to a casino night. Hardly appropriate, given the riots the other day."

"I do love a casino night, though," Xavier says.

Octavia glares at him. "No, you love the hot, half naked people running around serving shots of Sanguis Cupa and bending over the card tables."

"Or is it the unnecessary violence from the fights they usually allow… oh," Xavier's voice trails off.

He glances at Octavia, who inhales and sighs again, deeper this time. Her nostrils flare. "They're going to pit us against each other, aren't they?" She kneads her temples, wiping a hand along her brow. "Fuck."

Xavier leans back on the sofa. "Listen, I didn't fight for the amulet, I'm not about to mess up this exquisite face fighting for Mother's entertainment. Not when I have a sister made of savagery to do it for me."

"Plus, she's going to give you a job after this is over, anyway," Amelia says, grinning and swiping her finger around the dregs of blood at the bottom of her goblet.

My nose wrinkles at her movement, my stomach turning at the prospect of her enjoying blood. It only makes the resolve in my gut harden. I have to win. We have to win so I can pull her back from the brink. I have to get the cure for her.

But what if Cordelia's prophecy is right? What if there is no other way to open that door without me becoming the dhampir and half the thing I hate so much?

"What do we do about everything we've discovered?" Xavier asks.

"Which is a good point. You never did tell us what you discovered in the trial." I say.

He sighs dramatically. "Nothing useful. At least not for the trials. The Mother of Blood gave me closure. Something I've needed to know for a long time about someone I lost… It was needed. But it's not useful for us."

I slump. I was hoping there would be more intel we could use.

Octavia pipes up. "In which case, we do nothing. We keep everything we know under wraps. Tell absolutely no one. Trust no one. This is our safety circle. And we absolutely do not confront my mother or the Chief before the time is right. It will be hard, but for now, we play their game, bide our time until we can stack the deck in our favour."

"Okay, so we should reconvene after the next trial, then?" Amelia asks.

Octavia shakes her head. "That's too far away. Maybe after the casino night tomorrow? Let's see if we can dig anything up. Keep your ears to the ground. Xavier, do your compulsion thing, go wild. Amelia, keep researching and I will monitor Mother."

"We should rest," Amelia says, looking at me, her brows knitted as she scans my face. "You okay?" she mouths.

And suddenly I'm not. I'm a little faint. The last few hours, the revelations, they're all catching up with me. I've had more of Octavia's blood, albeit rationed. But I am still starving. The bloodied steaks on the plate in front of me aren't cutting it.

"Octavia," Amelia says.

She snaps to attention, her eyes flitting from Amelia to me. Her lips press shut, and she stands.

"We're done," she says, "Let's convene before the casino night." Then she's lifting me by the arm and dragging me out of the bar.

"Where are we going?" I say, yanking my arm out of her grip.

"To my private wing."

She marches faster. A speckling of grey spatters my vision, and I stumble. She halts, speeds back to me, and grabs my arm again.

"You're going to let me help you, or I swear on the Mother of Blood, I will spank your arse until it bleeds."

I grumble at her but relent, and she leads me through the castle and to her private wing.

The noise drops to nothing as we enter her section of the castle. No one comes down here save for Wendell. She leads me past my room, past her room and to the room I've only been in once.

"Why?" I ask.

No answer. She opens the door, pushes me inside, and then locks it shut behind us and pushes me against the door, the soft velvet caressing my back.

She places her hands on either side of my head. "When did you last feed exactly?"

I shrug. "I took the entire flask you gave Wendell as soon as I woke."

"The whole thing?" Octavia says, her eyes wide. "Fuck."

"And then you gave me a mouthful about ninety minutes ago."

"Then why is your skin grey? Why are you sweating? Why do you look like you're on the brink of death? Do you need to fuck because you've drunk so much?"

"You make it sound so appealing," I say, pushing her arm away so I can escape.

"Your blood is no longer working. I'm not sure what's wrong, but it's not satisfying me the way it was. I need more. More I fear than you can give me. But I don't think that's what we need to talk about, is it?"

"No," Octavia says and turns away from me, leaning against the chest of drawers and shelving unit filled with toys. "You don't trust me."

She paces back and forth, and I stay quiet because I know I fucked up here and hurt her. I went to the Chief instead of to Octavia when the Chief was the one scheming against me. I placed my trust in the wrong woman. She rests her hands against the drawers again, her head tilted down, her hair covering her face.

"I didn't, trust you then," I offer. "But you understand why I made the choice I did, right?"

She nods, even though I can't see her expression. "Because I took your memories."

"You see my problem. You're telling me I asked you to take them. But I'm asking for them back too. All I knew is that you were trying to control me."

"Except I wasn't."

"No. It was the Chief. Fuck. Eleanor. Gods, what I'm supposed to call her now? It's all a lie. It was stupid."

"You're hurting," she says.

I nod, trying to keep control. "Everything hurts. It's like my body is wasting away. My heart hurts for you, it hurts because of you, too. The Chief. I want it all to go away."

Finally, she turns to face me. Something has shifted in her expression. "Do you truly trust me now?"

My mouth falls open. Hurt lines her expression. And yet, she still holds my memories from me. Even though I'm asking for them back. I want to believe her that I was the one who asked her to keep them from me no matter what. But what could I have done that was so bad I'd ask her to take them away?

"You still don't," she says, her voice cracking.

Fuck. Fuck.

"Octavia..."

"No. Don't lie to me. I can tell you feel for me. But this... these fucking memories are always going to be between us. It doesn't matter what happens. I'm never going to get to keep you, am I?"

Her words drop to a whisper. Her eyes are glassy. It's like she's pulling back, fading away from me. Like I've pushed her too hard for too long, and she can't take it anymore. And I hate that it's come to this.

"I'm here right now, aren't I?"

"Your body is, your heart is stuck somewhere else. Wanting memories you gave to me."

I shake my head. "I want them back."

Octavia's eyes drop to the floor. "You have no idea what you're asking for. And even if I did give them back to you, what does that make me? Either I'm a liar to your past self, or I break the current you by giving them back. Either way, I lose you and my integrity."

She finally looks up at me, and I realise how I can make her understand that, even though I'm hurting, even though everything is fucked up, I am still here. Still fighting for her. She turns around and leans her hands against a dresser.

I unbutton my shirt. Tug it off my arms and let it drop to the floor. Next, I yank off my sports bra and throw that to the ground. Last, I pull my trousers and underwear off until I'm standing there naked.

"Octavia." She doesn't respond. But I'm not giving up. Not least because I need this. I am hurting alongside her.

I grit my teeth. "Please..."

She looks at me, and I drop to my knees for her.

She sucks in a breath, her nostrils flaring. This is what I wanted. I plead silently that she will take me. Make me hers.

I keep my eyes on her the whole time as I lower myself onto my calves. Spreading my knees. I rest my hands, palms up, on my knees. I tear my gaze away from her face, lowering my head in submission.

"I can't," Octavia says.

But I'm not giving up. I refuse to when I recognise that she needs this, too. She needs me to submit, to prove I am still here despite putting my trust in the wrong person.

And I need her to punish me, hurt me, and make me feel anything but the agony in my heart right now.

"You need to feed," she says. But I stay where I am, keep my palms up and my head lowered. Until I hear her switch into the dom she needs to be right now, I won't get up. I won't move.

We both need this.

"Don't..." she says, the energy in the room shifting. My skin tingles with it.

"Fuck, Verity."

It's coming. I'm pushing her hard enough her tone is changing. She paces the room fast. Her fist slams down on the chest of drawers. I don't flinch. I don't raise my head.

My heart rate climbs, slamming against my ribs as I wait patiently for her to come around.

"You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" she purrs.

There it is.

"Hello, Mistress Beaumont," I say, careful to keep my eyes lowered.

"Did I tell you to speak?"

I shut my mouth. Blood rushes around my system, heat pooling between my legs, and the first pulse of pleasure washes through my clit.

"Safe word," she says.

"Elysium," I respond instantly.

"Good. You're going to feed, as will I..." she lets the words hang in the air. "I think you need to be reminded of who you belong to, Verity."

She rummages in a drawer and returns with a rope. Kneels and lifts my hands off my knees to loop the rope around both my wrists and knot it. She gives it a tug to check the pressure and hauls me up by the rope until I'm standing.

"We're going to feed from each other because I don't think you have much time left. I'm hoping the bond will help stave off the real need here, which is for you to... transform."

She avoids saying the truth of it, which is that I need to feed from a human, and instead leads me across the room to a chain hanging from the ceiling. On the end of it is a hook.

"I am tired of you not trusting me. Tired of doing the right thing and constantly being hurt. I want you to desire me the way I desire you."

"I do," I say without thinking.

Her hand rears back and smacks me on my naked arse.

"I am speaking. You will talk only when I give you permission."

My skin tingles with the imprint of her hand. I can sense the shadow of every finger that touched my cheek. She lifts my hands and drops the rope over the hook. I'm short, which means I am more or less on my tiptoes.

Octavia steps back, admiring her work. She nods and painfully, slowly, she unbuttons her top. Each button pop, pop, popping as if to tease me.

She takes her time, making me watch every movement, every flick of her fingers.

I lick my lips, knowing exactly what those fingers can do, especially pressed against my skin, thrust inside me.

She knows it too, as her ruby-red eyes glimmer. Her shirt falls to the floor, discarded, followed by her trousers and her underwear. She's as naked as I am. Only I am hanging from the ceiling and unable to touch her.

She steps up to me. I wriggle as I pull away. But that only makes her smile deepen. She runs a finger from my chin down my throat, between my breasts and all the way to the tip of my pussy.

I jerk back as her finger brushes my clit. It makes her smile wider and I know I'm in a world of trouble tonight.