18. Millie

18

MILLIE

I palm my neck and cringe.

Asshole!

I've been marked. I will forever have evidence of what he's done to me. Every time I look at myself in the mirror, Hayden will be there, tormenting me. A permanent reminder that I am his.

As soon as he closed the door, I wanted to scream in my pillow…because I just got tongue fucked by a vampire and loved every single second.

I won't let these confusing feelings hinder me from leaving him. I'll try again, and I will succeed. I must consider another approach and muster up a more calculated plan. There has to be a way to drain his abilities. There has to be a way to stun him for a hot minute, so it gives me another head start to run.

I heard everything he said while I slept. I knew he wasn't going to be able to resist his depraved urges to get what he wanted. I have a feeling that Hayden always gets what he wants, even if he has to take it.

When he threatened to keep me underneath his toxic shadows, it only sent me further into the dark hole he has me trapped in. A hole with walls that can't hide the reflection of what I feel. It's weird. I want to kill him. I want to escape him. But I want him inside me. He scares me, but the thrill of being chased by him…to be enjoyed by a man everyone fears does something to my soul, and I want to chase that feeling even more.

He fucked me with his tongue and then bit me all over while I was tied up, unable to fight him. The worst part is…I wanted it all, and I wanted more than his mouth.

I shift the blankets over me to examine the damage littered across my body. Bruises on my hips, bite marks that have already scabbed over; I jump out of bed and find a mirror that sits beside a dresser and the red stained glass.

I'm no longer in the blood-stained, dirty clothes. I'm desperate to rid myself of last night's evidence of a battle between two immortals with different eyes. I thought all vampire's eyes turn red when they shift into their authentic version. But I noticed that wasn't the case from their interaction in the club to the concert. It was a consistent detail. Every vampire that shares Hayden's trust has crimson eyes, deep and rich like blood. But the southern vampires had enriched cerulean blue, like a frozen ocean. Both were glowing and bright.

I wait for a few minutes before I head for the bath that's connected to my bedroom, naked and bloody.

When I open the door, I'm met with the familiar black walls, elegantly patterned. A brass-colored morphed mirror is nailed to the wall above the black sink.

A diamond chandelier made of red diamonds hangs in the center of the restroom, lit by candles that seem never to die out. The bathroom is also covered in red stained glass, which reflects vividly against the black bathtub.

This cathedral looked like a church on the outside, but what a Gothic daydream on the inside.

I touch the brass handle of the bathtub and turn it to get as warm as possible. I grip both sides of the tub as I lay my sore body in. I listen to the water run, staring at the water flowing and building, contemplating my next move.

When I get out of the bath, I see something odd. Another delicious breakfast tray sits on a silver tray. The scent of organic maple syrup captures my attention. One of the guards must have brought it in while I was showering.

Pancakes, eggs, beans, and orange juice…and another tape. It sits on my nightstand with a player.

Did it slip from his pockets? Or is this some trick-or-sick game to torture me?

Still in my towel and drenched waves, I hold onto it as I sprint over. Water from my wet hair sprays the floor, but I don't care. Even when I almost slip and fall.

I'm hit with a rush of adrenaline at the thought of hearing my family again.

I put the tape in and hit play.

Nash: " Look, sis, I don't know if you're going through some weird phase in your life, but this isn't fucking funny. You could at least give us a phone call and let us know you're okay, that you're alive, because you matter, Millie. Don't do anything stupid. You matter to us. We love you… you matter ."

Cole: " Millie. I need to hear your voice. I've never in my life been so desperate to hear someone say hello before…" he shuffles the phone against his shoulder before he continues. He inhales a breath, and it does that static thing against the speaker…he's nervous. " I miss you. I miss seeing you here at the coffee shop. I miss seeing how you bite your lip when rush hours come in, and you're stressed. I miss the way I would walk into the coffee shop happy. Not because I enjoy being the supervisor but because I know you'll be there around me. I miss it. I miss you. Please…come back. How am I supposed to survive these shifts with Hayes and Leah? They're a pain in the ass. Come save me… " He laughs, forcing a joke. But his laugh sounds different. There's a hint of a break, and it's painted with sorrow. "Save me from another day of missing you. I hope you're okay. And I hope that when you do come back because I do not doubt that you will" — he rushes out like a fact— "I would love to give us a second chance again. When you return, I want to take you out on a date, and I'm not taking no for an answer. If I have to sit on your doorstep with your favorite flowers and chocolates, which I know are peonies, then that's what I'll do. I'll always care about you, Millie. I'll always want you."

I expect to hear more messages, but it stops paying. I hold it with my palms as the water drips down my naked chest, contemplating all that I've been through.

Even if I found a phone to let them know that I was still alive, what would I say? How could I put any of this into words?

Hey Dad, sorry I disappeared. A stupid, hot billionaire vampire has kidnapped me ?

Hey Cole, I would love to give us another shot, except I'm not sure my heart would truly ever forget about the vampire I willingly kissed, even though he's kidnapped me against my will .

Hey Leah, I would love to catch up with you and tell you everything, but I'm scared I'll be putting you at risk .

Hey mom, I ?—

What would I say?

At the end of the day, I don't think those details would matter. Because if I were in their shoes, I would just be happy to know my loved one is safe and alive.

Would they think I lost my marbles? Check.

Would I risk their lives by letting them into my own snow globe of chaos and then return to Texas without protection? Check.

I glance around the room. There's an eerie silence like there is every morning when I wake up alone, and I refuse to do this over and over again until Hayden takes from me and no longer has any use for my body.

I demand an explanation. Everyone keeps saying Valkyrie this and Valkyrie that. Why am I so important? Why does every vampire look like they want to bite me?

Maybe there's a way to give them what they want, and I can still be in one piece and be able to go back and live an everyday life. Maybe a normal life with human friends and a human boyfriend...maybe with Cole.

His recording sent me back down memory lane and reminded me of how sweet, warm, and kind he always was with me. Patient and never demanding. The exact opposite of a certain atrocious vampire that has kidnapped and eaten me out like I was his last meal.

Footsteps walk down the hall with loud clinks stealing me from my reminiscence. A shadow flickers underneath the doors, signaling someone is walking by. I get up from the bed and place the recorder on the nightstand. I don't know what I'm doing, but I refuse to spend another day in the room alone with re-runs of baking and comedy shows.

Don't get me wrong, I love those things, but I'm going stir-crazy after the repetitive routine over the past few days.

I run to the closet and grab the first thing I lay my tired eyes on. It's a wooden closet full of laced black and red dresses, skirts, and tops. Red and black, no other options of color.

I slip on the first long black laced dress with a flower pattern on the long sleeves that meet my wrists and chest. It's gorgeous and hugs all my curves once I put it on.

I run to the door and bang on it with one tightened fist just as I turn the door knob with my other. I'm about to pound and scream, prepared for my throat to bleed with my ruthless begging like I did before.

But to my surprise, the door rolls forward slowly.

It's open .

I blink, taken aback by the massive oversight on Hayden's part unless it was one of the guards when they dropped off breakfast. Hayden wouldn't make a mistake like this.

Whoever it was, I'm thanking them. I take advantage and swing it open, ready to try and escape once more. Hayden should be resting. It's daytime; I assume every vampire is asleep except the guards.

I walk down the dark halls, holding the long dress just a few inches above my ankles to avoid tripping over it as I jog barefoot to the same exit as last time.

I walk stealthily down the same stairs and see the familiar big French doors.

This time, I know Hayden is asleep. I have this feeling…this weird connection to him, and I know he's far away from me, which makes me more secure to walk faster.

My salvation calls my name just as my heartbeat thunders in my ears and neck.

This time, the sound of a woman crying behind me halts me faster than I can process my movements. I stand there frozen on the black stairs and turn my head slowly to the woman's soft sobs.

She's dressed in all black, her hair just as black as her dress, and black streaks are down her face. I only get her profile because it looks like she's so concentrated on a male portrait from Victorian times that's mounted above the fireplace. A man with long dark black hair, blue eyes, and a mustache that sits above his pink lips stands next to a beautiful woman with cinnamon-red curly hair. She's tall, just like him, with freckles over her nose and glowing skin. She wears a bright yellow corset and a bright emerald heart-shaped jewel in the center of her neck. It's blinding…even in the painted portrait, the artist did an elaborative job of capturing little details of the encapsulating jewelry and features of the couple whose love is so visible that it's almost palpable.

A powerful tug of my bicep sends me off balance, and I almost fall the last two steps on the stairs. I turn to see a guard in a suit, with a long black beard and red eyes.

He hisses a creature-like sound through his pointed fangs.

"Queen Drago, it seems to me that Prince Hayden Drago's pet has gotten out of her cage again. I made sure to lock it after I dropped off her breakfast. This isn't my fault, I prom—" He trembles as I try to fight his overpowering hold.

The woman turns around, wiping her black tears away with the back of her hand. Her red eyes slowly change to brown, and she clears her throat to cut him off.

"Mr. Charles, it's okay. I believe you. I'm sure it was a mere oversight…" He still looks guarded, like he's trying to hide the fact he's pissing his pants because he might get fired and or killed.

"I'm not my husband, and I'm definitely not my son. You can go. I won't have you executed for a genuine mistake." She dismisses him with a gentle wave of her hand that has a massive rock on her ring finger. Her voice is serene, just like her smile. She looks like she has a gentle charisma about her, something warm in the way she talks with a British accent. She has a heart-shaped face. Her beauty is out of this world.

"Leave the girl," she commands gently.

Charles stops midway, loosening his grip, and I free myself from him.

I turn to the guard as his brown eyes jump back and forth between Queen Drago and me with a confused flattening of his pursed lips.

"Queen Drago. Are you sure? You need to rest. The sun is out. Let me escort Ms. Flores back to her room," he insists.

"Oh, Charles, it's the anniversary of my brother's death. I cannot sleep on this day, so I think this will give me a small chance to get to know the woman who changed my son's outlook on his ascension."

I furrow my brows, wanting to ask her questions, but I bite my tongue instead. I'm too scared to speak to these strangers, let alone breathe.

"She'll be fine with me," she reassures Charles as she lifts a perfect dark brow at me, "Right, Ms. Flores?"

I look to Charles and then back at the ‘queen.'

"I-I," I stutter, unsure of what to do, but I think the best thing for me is not to disagree with Hayden's mother. I grab my elbows for some type of emotional support to speak, rubbing the laced fabric, and swallow nervously as I stand amongst vampire royalty. "Yes, you're right."

I look away from the vampires and fidget with my fingers instead, pinching at my laced black dress, hoping it'll calm my nerves.

"Good," she chirps happily, satisfied with my answer even though it wasn't as convincing. Because deep down, I do want to try and escape again. At the end of the day, I'm still human, a fragile, different kind of creature they can toy with and break so easily if they choose to.

The ends of her red lips tilt, and her white teeth make their presence known. Charles stays but keeps his distance behind me, watching like a hawk ready to whisk me away if the Queen gives him the word.

"I want to get to know you. My son tells me you like peonies." She drives her forearm between mine just as my heart skips a beat, and it palpitates so hard I almost choke on my saliva.

How does he know these big and little things about my life?

Her skin is cold but soft at the same time. She leads me down a large hallway on the first floor. We pass by more portraits from different eras the further we walk. Some have children in them, and various people I don't recognize. We pass by a portrait that says 1955 in small cursive handwriting in the right-hand corner.

There sits Kallum and Hayden.

Both handsome as ever, and yet still, Hayden's cruel, entrapping, handsome smirk glimmers back at me, and a cloud of bliss rings through my veins.

How does a picture of him manage to do that to me?

I clear my throat after Queen Drago catches my vision lingering on her sons.

"I do like peonies. They're my favorite flowers." I try to distract myself from getting caught.

I'm not sure how she's justifying this entire situation for herself. Her son kidnapped me! I want to shout out to her to do the right thing and let me go, but I'm sure once I do, Charles over here will whisk me away to my room for the rest of the day. I have to pretend that everything is fine.

"I want to show you my garden." She pulls against my arm harder. "Sorry, I just get so excited sometimes. I've never had a daughter or a little girl of my own to share my hobbies with, like gardening. My sons aren't interested in this."

I'm not her daughter, and I'm thrown off that she's so callous and dismissive towards my situation. I'm only here because they took me, and I'm being held against my will.

A minute or two passes, and I'm staring at acres of land through the red stained glass. The sun is out, and I still can't wrap my head around the fact that she isn't burning, in excruciating pain, or even getting lit on fire like in the movies when the red rays shine against her skin.

"Who was the man and woman in the portrait, Queen Drago?" I pry, my curiosity getting the best of me. The aura surrounding her makes me feel welcomed, and the words fall out so easily. I've always been good at reading people.

"Oh, please call me Cordelia," she corrects me delicately, palming my hand with her cold one.

"Sorry, Cordelia." We stare at her enormous garden behind the glass, acres of land with tall trees, other mountain terrain, and a giant lake in the far distance. It's beautiful up here.

"That was my brother, Amos, and his fiancé, whom he never got to marry." Her mood shifts, and her once warm voice turns cold with despair. She crosses her arms and looks into my eyes. Her light brown eyes turn glossy, and a black tear falls out. She wipes it away, and I refrain from comforting her. Whenever I see someone cry, I yearn to wrap them in an embrace so they'll know they're not alone. It's a reflex.

"He was executed at the Inferno for falling in love with a Valkyrie. It's a law. A law created out of fear that the living would be exposed to the underworld they live above. Everyone was afraid of Valkyrie's exposing our kind. That they would create a mass of destruction and start a massive problem for Immortals and humans, which would lead to the extinction of our kind."

"What's the Inferno?"

"A place where we hold our justice system. If you're found guilty, you get executed by being burnt alive until your body turns to ash in front of council members and all Immortal Kings."

Damn, that's brutal.

"So kidnapping a human against her will isn't illegal?" My candor spills out before I can stop it. Cordelia stiffens momentarily but regains her posture.

"You are safer here. You have a chance to live longer if you stay here in this Cathedral. If any other immortal finds you, they'll kill you and take you for themselves, you?—"

"Wife, will you come back to bed? Let Charles escort Ms. Flores back to her room." A man roars behind us like he's scolding her for sharing an insight into their lives. I jump involuntarily, and my stomach flips at his unexpected interruption. I palm my mouth to stop my shrieking. I'll always be on edge in this damn Gothic Cathedral.

"Arthur…" Cordelia pivots on her black heels and observes what looks like Hayden's father. He's tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed, and has a short beard covering his chiseled jaw. He wears all black. Black top with black sweats, and black socks.

"I was just showing Millie my garden. I want her to take care of it for me during the day when I can't." She smiles at him, and his face contorts into a frigid expression. His eyes beam black at us…and then he fixates on me. He leans his shoulder against the wall, unimpressed, and his hand bows forward, searching for Cordelia's.

I tense my legs up and change glances.

"Plant peonies for me. I want to spice it up from the usual red roses. Charles will help you get set up with that." She winks at me as she takes his hand, holds up her dress, and walks effortlessly and beautifully to her husband, who still stands furiously.

What have I done to him to receive this prejudiced, vicious treatment? If looks could kill, I would be six feet under the ground with the way Arthur keeps his deathly stare on me…and on my neck.

He sees what his son has done to me. I know he does.

His gaze is sharp and venomous, glaring disappointment into the branding of his son's teeth on his captive's living flesh like he's connecting the dots to a puzzle he doesn't want to decipher. I can't hold his sharpened gaze, so I palm my neck and let Charles guide me back to my room, passing by a sympathetic Cordelia and a glacial Arthur.