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Chapter 38

OCTAVIA

X avier, Amelia, and I speed our way under the city, carrying Red between us. We're ultimately faster than the carriages, because we can dart in and out of traffic, and take it in turns to carry her.

I want to get her out of Castle St Clair's grounds and back to the sanctuary of mine before anyone notices there was something wrong with her.

Which is how we came to be here, with Red unconscious on her bed in my castle. Amelia, Xavier, and I all stood around her.

We're reaching the crunch point with what her mortal system can take, and I fear that if she doesn't heed our warnings, she won't make it to the trial tomorrow, let alone through the last and to the boundary.

But if she drinks, or at least if she drains someone, she'll transform.

"We're agreed then?" Xavier says.

Amelia nods. "We beg her to drink without draining for now. There's no way she's going to agree to kill an innocent, so all we can do is get her to agree to stay alive."

"And if she doesn't agree, I'll compel her?" Xavier says, as if that wouldn't be a complete betrayal of everything she believes and all the trust I've worked for.

Amelia gives me the side eye.

"No. We can't. If we compel her now, she'll never choose to drain someone when the time comes. And we need her to choose to transition," I say.

Xavier huffs. But it's the right decision.

"You're going to have to pull the sister card, and pull it hard," I say to Amelia.

Her lips pinch, but she nods. "I feel bad, but I want her alive more than I care about causing a guilt trip."

Xavier bends to examine her. I bristle. "What is it?"

"Her breathing is shallow. We may have to take the decision out of her hands," he says.

But I shake my head. I've done enough controlling of her free will. It's time I gave her the space and freedom to make her own mind up. I hate that it's now that I choose to do this.

"Amelia, go find Wendell and ask him to bring a bag of warm, fresh human blood. Perhaps the scent would be enough to rouse her from sleep," I say.

Xavier claps his hands. "Good thinking."

I roll my eyes. "I'm not just a set of pretty eyes."

He smiles and comes to my side, lifting my knuckles to his lips. "The most beautiful in all the city." He kisses my hand, but I yank it back.

"Oh, piss off, Xavier, you have to say that. I'm your favourite."

He folds his arms, looking affronted. "I have to say nothing of the sort. I've told you on more than one occasion when you're being a giant cunt."

I bark a laugh, but he continues.

"Besides, you don't see what Red and I see. And one day, when you do, you really will make the best queen for this city."

I huff at him, but Amelia returns with Wendell in tow.

He rushes to Red's side and uncaps the blood bag, wafting it under her nose.

She sits bolt upright, gripping his wrist where he holds the bag. Her eyes glare like suns at him.

I step forward, ready to protect him if necessary. None of us understands what this transition is doing to her physiology, let alone to her mental state.

"Red."

Her gaze snaps up to me. Her breathing is ragged. "That's not your blood," she says and then has to wipe her chin, as if she's about to drool.

"No, it's not," I say.

"Then why is it in front of me, Octavia?" she snarls. I have to give her credit. Her body is literally decaying in front of us, and still, she comes out swinging.

Wendell glances at me with skittish movements. I can tell he's uncomfortable. I nod at Amelia to take over his position. She relieves him, and he races from the room.

"Amelia," Red says and then tilts her head at her sister.

Xavier leans against the wall, an amused expression on his face. But he won't be laughing when I make him have a go at convincing her without compulsion next. I pray for his sake that Amelia can convince her sister. Because while I want Red to choose to do this for herself, I find a piece of myself wanting her to stay alive more. And I wonder whether I really am above compulsion and making her drink it, or if I meant what I said to Xavier.

"What's going on?" Red says.

Amelia sits on the bed and strokes the back of Red's hand, her eyes flitting between the blood bag and Red's grey pallor.

"You passed out at the Castle St Clair casino night. You'd gone outside, none of us know why. Especially as Octavia asked you to stay put."

"I..." she says, but her words fade.

There's a flicker of hesitation.

"Don't remember," she finishes.

The hesitation was enough. She's lying. She remembers, but she's choosing not to tell us. Oh Red, why must you continue to disobey me?

She pushes Amelia's hand away. "I don't want it."

"I know you don't. But the strengths trial starts after dusk, and if you don't drink, I'm not sure you're going to survive the trip, let alone be able to take part."

That same hesitation I saw wrapping around a lie washes through her expression again. She's wavering. Thank gods, keep going, Amelia.

"Of course I can compete. I can get there fine," she says, but as Amelia glances at me and then Xavier, it's clear none of us believe her. This is bravado in the face of the decision she's been avoiding.

"We're not judging you," Xavier says from the wall. "We just want you alive and healthy."

Red cocks her head at him as if trying to examine whether that's the truth.

It is. I can tell when Xavier is lying, and he isn't.

"You really think I'll die if I don't?" Red asks, her voice quiet.

"Yeah, Red, we really do," Amelia says and strokes her hand.

"I must look shit," Red tries to laugh, but it comes out more of a stifled sniffle.

Amelia holds the bag up again. "Please? I can't bear it if you were to..." She looks away, her eyes filling with unshed tears.

Fuck, Amelia, you are a master manipulator. This performance is golden.

"I can't…" Red says, her voice high and whiny.

"Tell her, Amelia," I say.

"Tell me what?" she asks.

Amelia sighs. "The research I've been doing… this whole time… Your addiction was never your fault. It was always in you. It's the transition calling because drinking blood is part of you and who you are… who you're meant to be…"

Red bites her lip, worry lines crease her forehead. We're close to convincing her, but it's her expression that makes bile claw up my throat. Are we any better than the Chief? We're all stood here, manipulating her to drink blood when she doesn't want to. But is it still manipulation if she'll die if we don't convince her?

"Red, please, you're all I have left… Don't leave me alone," Amelia finishes.

It's the tipper for Red. Her expression softens, and she clasps Amelia's hand. Knowing she's going to drink and survive another day doesn't wipe the tang of guilt off the back of my tongue.

"Fuck," Red says. She pulls her hands over her face, trying to hide the frustration.

She snatches the bag from Amelia. "I'm not fucking killing anyone, do you hear me? I will take a sip. But if it's my life or an innocent's, we all know who I choose."

My lips press together. We will see about that. But I figure now is not the time to contradict her when she's willing to try the blood, at least. This is a perilous game that the three of us are desperate to win. And Red hates losing.

Her eyes meet mine from across the room, her brow wrinkles, and I hate how much she doesn't want to do this. How much she's desperate to not be like me, to not become anything like me.

Then I remind myself this isn't about me. This is about her, and it's not a reflection of how she feels about me or a judgement on my monstrousness. This is about Red and her need to come to terms with herself.

She needs to embrace this side of herself or risk losing herself entirely.

Red keeps her eyes on me the entire time as she brings the blood bag to her lips.

Her hand trembles where she grips the plastic. She tips it and a drizzle of blood touches her tongue.

I'm instantly wet watching her consume blood. Gods, how would I feel watching her drink from the source? Possession and ownership are funny things. I don't want anyone touching what's mine. But watching her drink? Or using her power and embracing herself to guzzle blood from the still-living body of a human?

That sight alone might make me come undone.

Red's eyes light up as the first drops hit her tongue. She drinks more, then a little more. Then puts the bag down, the light winking out entirely.

"Nothing is different," she says.

Amelia and Xavier glance at each other. Something passes between them.

"What is it?" I ask.

Xavier kicks off the wall and heads to the door. "We suspected that blood from a bag wouldn't cut it. At least not at the moment. Not while she's still in human form. The transition has weakened her too much. We think she needs a far more pure, more beautiful source of blood."

Amelia stands up, taking the bag off Red. She glances at me before turning to her sister. "You need to drink from the source."

"What? No. I'm not a fucking vampire. I agreed to the bag, not to hurting a human," she snaps, crashing back against her headboard.

"I think you'll find your teeth are amply sharp enough not to hurt them." I say, and that makes her cheeks heat.

"Xavier," I command, and he doesn't need to be prompted. He flies from the room at vampire speed.

"I'm not drinking from a fucking human, Octavia. Forget it. What would they think? I'm clearly not a vampire. They're going to know that I'm the dhampir, or about to be it. If that got out...?"

"We can compel them," Amelia says. "Don't put boundaries in your way. You need to do this. And if drinking from a bag won't work, then you have to try from the source. It's no different."

Red's fists ball, her jaw clenches. "It's very fucking different."

I need to get a handle on this before we lose her. "I know it's not fair. But do we ever ask for the hand we're dealt? Life is about how you handle what you have. Do you lie down and quit? Or do you stand and fight?"

"Fuck you, Octavia," she says, but there's no bite in her tone.

Xavier returns, a rather flustered man in his grip. Red glances from Xavier to the man and swings her legs out of the bed. She wobbles as she stands, and Amelia grabs her.

Red approaches him as Xavier forces him onto his knees.

"Look at me," she says. "Do you consent to be a donor?"

"I do," he says and nods.

"I really don't like this," Red says and fidgets with her hands.

"Leave," I say suddenly, surprising myself too.

"But," Amelia starts.

Xavier glances at me. My expression remains stoic. "She's not joking, Amelia. Come on, I've got someone I want you to meet."

The pair of them leave, and the man stays kneeling before Red, his hands trembling.

"We won't hurt you," I say. But he can't bring himself to look at me. It frustrates me. I can't console him, despite wanting this to be a painless experience for us all.

"I promise I'm going to make this as easy as I can for you. Honestly, I don't really want to do it," Red says.

"Then why are you? Who are you? You look human to me," he says, staring at her.

"I am."

"Then why—Oh." His eyes widen.

"While you consent to donating, you will have your memory of this evening wiped. I'm sure you understand the significance of the information you've heard, and the severity of punishment should it leak."

He opens his mouth but closes it again and nods. "I consent."

"Good boy," I say and despite the fact he's a fully grown man, that phrase alone makes the trembling cease.

See? Why can't all humans submit? They want it, really. Deep down, they covet the release of absolute vulnerability. The inevitability of their demise, their mortality. If they could learn to bend the knee a little earlier in life, there would be a lot less conflict.

I run my hand along the side of his head until I brush under his jawline.

"Red, come here."

She does.

"You need to bite harder on human flesh than you do mine. It's tougher and more rigid than vampire flesh. Because we heal, we don't need to have as thick a layer of skin as humans."

Her skin turns green. But I continue because time is running out, we're already past midnight and I want her ready to fight by dusk.

"Lean yourself over his neck, like this." I demonstrate everything twice and continue.

"Tilt your head to angle your teeth with the sharpest points over his carotid. You stand the best chance of penetrating if you do a sharp jerk of your head as you bite down. Okay?"

She nods. And steps into position. "I'm sorry," she says to him and opens her mouth.

Her whole body quakes. But every inch she moves closer, I find my panties growing wetter.

"Good," I say. "Now lean forward. That's it."

I guide her jaw. "And jerk."

She takes the instruction like an eager student and sinks her teeth into his neck. He sucks in a sharp breath and stiffens. Blood spills out from between her lips as it flows into her mouth. Ah yes, I forgot to mention that it pumps out considerably faster than vampire blood—what with humans and their beating hearts.

She detaches, leans to the side and retches, throwing up everything she drank.

But she also nicked his carotid. If she doesn't have vampire venom yet, then she won't make his platelets rapidly heal. Blood gushes out in rhythmic spurts. It sprays her face and neck as she rights herself and wipes her mouth. He screams and grabs his neck.

"Red. Drink," I say, and grab her by the scruff of the collar and push her head back onto his neck. At least this way we can salvage the blood he's losing rather than go through multiple donors and have to spend half the day wiping their memories.

She slides her mouth over the wound, blood now coating her face and clothes. Her fingers find the back of his head and curl over his shoulder as she guzzles and this time swallows. The bob of her throat is rhythmic, and it makes my clit pulse.

Watching her take his life source. Consume blood like she was a vampire, too. I could watch her do this all night. I've never fancied myself a voyeur. But this? I'd give the next thousand years to watch her drain a human dry.

The air in the room heats like static and molten sunshine. Goosebumps rise over her arms, over mine and finally his, too. What is going on? Is this magic? Is this part of her transition? Or perhaps this is what it would be like if she drained him.

The magic or power or whatever it is surges around the room and grazes my skin, setting my body alight, and I am now aware of how much potential she truly wields. She is power incarnate. She will change the face of this city, and I want to be at her feet when she does.

"Stop drinking now, Red."

She doesn't listen, she's in a fervour, lost in the pleasure of consumption.

"Red," I shout. This time, I grip her jaw and pull her from his throat.

She rears back, a growl or a scream or more like a little of both roars from her chest.

The man falls backwards.

"Lennox," I shout.

He's at the door in a millisecond. He takes one look at the man, who is pale as snow, and nods.

"Wipe his memory. I don't want him having any recollection of this night," I say.

He inclines his head, bowing slightly as he swings an arm around the man and carries him out of the room.

Red is still panting, her shoulders heaving up and down. I take her in, staring in awe at the sight of her smothered in fresh blood, her fangs, which I swear are a little longer, still descended. My pussy twitches.

"You don't realise the power you have over me, Verity. In a thousand years of life, I've never fallen to my knees for anyone. But for you, I'd be willing to fall hard enough to bleed."

She glances at me as I step in front of her and slowly, inch by inch, lower myself to the ground in front of her.

"You are magnificent. You are everything I have ever dreamed of, and I don't think I can run this city without you."

She brings her fingers to her lips, smearing the blood. Her eyes fall away from me.

"Do not carry the shame for what you have done. The man lives. And you are stronger now. You will fight tomorrow because of his sacrifice."

She turns away from me, leaving me on my knees waiting for her.

"No one should have to die in order for me to take my power. A power I don't even want. I don't want to be the one who opens the door. The one that unleashes magic. Why can't we do it together? Why does that decision have to rest in my hands? It shouldn't be any one person."

I sigh. "Because that is the way life works. You misunderstand power."

"How?" she says. And then she turns to kneel with me, as my equal.

She runs her hands up my body to my shirt buttons and unhooks the first. Then the second and continues as I speak.

"Weakness and power are misnomers. There aren't such things. Each of us is powerful beyond our comprehension," I say.

"Then why are there so many weak people in the world? Think of all the victims and awful leaders doing awful things?"

I purse my lips. "Everyone is powerful beyond their comprehension. But here..." I press a finger to her heart. "Is where their power lies. And not everyone is strong enough to use their power or wield it like a shield. Not everyone is brave enough to wear the armour their soul already possesses."

I let my words sink in. I can tell she's hearing me, that my words are finally taking root. So I answer her other question.

"And then there are those who are more than brave enough. Those who choose to wield their power not as a shield but as a weapon."

She moves forward, her fingers curling around my throat.

"You speak of power like it's meaningless. Like me stood here with my hand around your throat isn't a threat. As if I wield no power over you, and yet a slip of my fingers, and I could choke you."

That does something to me. A tingle of energy shoots from the press of her fingers down to my pussy.

"And yet, it is I who wield the power in this situation because with the snap of my hand, I could have you on the floor, bent over begging for me to let you come."

She smiles like it's a lie, and I grin like it's the truth.

We both know we're playing games.

"The blood is in your system. Your colour is back. There's an energy throbbing through you I want to consume."

"Then consume me, Octavia."

I don't need to be asked twice. My hands slide to her shirt, placing one on either side of the fabric, and I rip it apart, shredding it. I tear through her sports bra, and I leave her there, topless.

"Fuck, you are the most magnificent thing I have ever seen."

And in this moment, she truly is. Her skin glows golden. Not the pale wasteland from earlier. Her eyes glimmer with a hunger for the world. For me, and I hope eventually for the power that clearly pulses in her body.

I pull at her trousers next and unbutton them and let her slide them off as I rush to the toy drawer in my room. I'm back in a second and she's only just taken them off.

I slide into the harness, a grind pad in the bottom for me, and then I tug her by the arm, pushing her to the bed.

"Bend over," I say.

She looks like she's going to put up a fight. I narrow my eyes at her. "Red… don't be a brat. You won't like what happens if you misbehave."

She stays put. I sigh. But it's not real. I like the fight. I want her to fight because it gives me the hope that she won't give up. That maybe she will finally embrace who she is and choose to fight alongside me for the city. Fight her way to the door and unleash magic so that she can become who she is meant to be.

"Make me," she hisses.

I lunge for her, but she's faster than I expect and lurches out of the way, bouncing on her toes.

"Interesting," I say. Realising that the blood must have done more than pull her from the brink of death.

But she's not transitioned yet. And until she can truly embrace who she is, she won't be a match for me. I leap at her, grabbing her arm and twisting it behind her back. She jerks, trying to free her arm, but I've got her pinned in place. I use my height against her and push her on her tippy toes to the edge of the bed and bend her over the edge until her arse is plump and rounded and ready for smacking.

"What's your safe word?"

"Elysium."

"Good, mine is villain," I say and then I pull my hand back and smack her arse. She lurches forward with the pressure from the smack and groans against me.

I reach back for one of the other toys I brought with me, a flogger, and then I yank that back and slap it over her arse too.

"The first was for disobeying. That was because I felt like it. Now, are you going to do as you're told?"

"Not as long as I breathe," she says, and it lights another flicker of fire in my belly. There she is. Embrace it, Red. Fuel yourself, grab hold of that inner power.

I take the end of the cock and bring it to her entrance.

"Are you sure about that?" I ask.

To my surprise, she shunts back against me, making the dildo penetrate her pussy.

My eyes widen in surprise. I wasn't expecting that. The brat in her is strong today. It was a threat, not a promise. The blood truly has gone to her head. I like it. Want more of it. I want her to dig deep and find the pieces of her that only she can reach.

I pull the cock out, but she drives back again.

"Make me forget," she says.

The words cut through me. Carve right to the heart of the night I turned Amelia.

Make me forget, Octavia. Please, make me forget.

Those words laced in pain, in regret, and the ache of knowing that whatever decision I made that night, I was going to lose her eventually.

"What?" I say.

"I don't want to remember what I did to that man tonight. Fuck me until I forget."

And here is the same old Red. I sigh silently, the cool heat of frustration simmering in my chest. If I had her potential, I would change the face of the city. I'd make it a better place, more accepting and fair. But then I wonder whether that's really the problem—I want the power, and she doesn't. Perhaps that would make her better at wielding power than me.

I thrust deep and she moans. The grind pad between my legs brushes my clit with every thrust and glides over folds, making the motion of fucking her just as pleasurable as the motion inside her.

I drive deeper, harder.

"More," she says, and her words choke and crack, the emotion of what's happened tonight finally getting to her.

"Please, Octavia? Harder."

And I can only oblige. I drive into her over and over and over until sweat drips down my brow. But her body doesn't tighten, her shoulders don't stiffen the way they would if she were going to climax. So I pull out despite the tingle on my own pussy from the grind pad, unstrap the harness, and I let it drop to the floor.

I pull her legs toward me and flip her onto her back, chucking her around like a rag doll. She grins at me. I cock an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, you like it when I treat you like my fuck toy, do you?"

"Maybe."

I sigh again. "Maybe isn't yes or no, Red. If you behave like a brat, I'm going to edge you until you're begging for release."

"Fine. Yes. I like being your dirty little blood slut. I like being your fuck toy, and I like it when you call me a filthy whore. So, Octavia, do I get to come now?"

I grin and climb on the bed. "Oh, you get more than that. You get to eat me while you come."

Her face brightens as I scoot down her body and turn myself over so my belly presses against her torso. I slide my head between her legs as my pussy rests on her mouth.

And there I go to work. I lap at her clit like the starved woman I am. I want to devour her, consume every drop of excitement and pleasure that I can. I want to spend the rest of my days wringing pleasure out of her until she begs for me to stop, and then maybe one more lick, one more orgasm.

Her pussy is mine, and mine alone.

Her clit hardens beneath my tongue, and I know this is what her body wanted. I wrap my arm over the top of her thigh so I can slide a finger inside her.

I don't know how long we spend like this. We fuck until the birds begin to sing. We fuck long enough that Red gets up and pulls the curtains shut.

We fuck until we're spent and crash into sleep, only to wake again and slide ourselves between each other's legs, lapping and licking and drawing out orgasm after orgasm.

I find myself between her legs, mouth on her clit, two fingers buried deep in her pussy when there's a quiet cough. A clearing of the throat.

I glance up, crane my eyes to the door, but I don't stop fucking her, I don't stop the drive and thrust of my fingers.

In fact, I curl them around until I find her G-spot and then I look at Xavier, who folds his arms.

"Oh, am I interrupting?"

"No. Do go on. What can I do to help?" I say as Red gasps, realising that we now have an actual audience. Her eyes flit from me to Xavier and back again, her body now utterly frozen.

I thrust again and the tiniest of whimpers escapes her mouth.

"You were saying, Xavier?"

"Right. Yes. Well," he waves his hand at me, brushing off the fact I am clearly still fucking Red in front of him.

I lean down and lick her clit; it's even sweeter now, the arousal of her being so aggressively watched must be pushing her close to orgasm. I lick again. And again.

When I feel her pussy clamp my fingers, I stop.

"Xavier, you were saying?"

I drive a particularly vicious thrust into her pussy, rubbing against her G-spot to see if I can tip her over into bliss in front of Xavier. To see how far her need to be watched really goes.

"Yes, sorry. Rather distracting and all that." Xavier says. "Anyhoo. Mother has sent word that they're ready for us in the Blood Woods, so she's ex?—"

Red moans, her back arching while I pump harder and continue my relentless lapping of her clit. Her pussy is throbbing against my fingers. Her hands scruff the bed sheets. She's going to blow.

It makes me smirk against her clit.

"Fuck," Red says. "Oh gods."

"Mother of Blood," Xavier exclaims, pulling a hand over his face. "I'm leaving. Please, for the love of gods, put Red out of her misery, get yourselves cleaned up and then get to the carriage. We'll be w?—"

Red lifts off the bed, her pussy clamping like a vice around my fingers as she comes apart, ejaculating sweet come on my tongue. It's almost enough to make me come, but I hold on, not wanting to cross that boundary with Xavier in the room.

She lays flat on the bed, panting.

"Well, now that's done with, do you think you could hurry up?" Xavier says and promptly speeds out of the room.

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